#bb aftermath

[ashintheairlikesnow]

ash beloved, as a prince of woe and misfortune (a fibromyalgia haver) can i request some jameson on a bad pain day

the current vibe is 'i need to pee but my legs are fucking screaming and i havent even moved them yet and my shoes feel too tight because all my peripheral joints are getting inflamed' and i feel Terrible bc i used to be able to just ,, do stuff and now i cannot because of the evil 'You Have Pain And Doctors Don't Know Why' Disorder™

i am not sure whether i want to revel in shared misery or schadenfreude but i am sure i want to see a guy in pain

Anon, my gift to you and my sympathies for your Whole Body:

CW: Chronic pain, self-harm (brief, self-hitting), self-loathing, aftermath of whump, recovering whumpee

-

"You pushed yourself too hard, that's all." Nat tries for soothing, but when she puts a hand out to touch his shoulder, Jameson shoots her a furious glare and she carefully shifts it back again. "Right. Okay. You have to take things slow, honey, your legs-"

"-are goddamn fucking useless, yeah, I get it. I got it." Jameson's rasping voice is thinned to little more than a whisper as he hunches over himself, sitting sideways on the couch with his legs out on the cushions bent at the knees, refusing to straighten. He slams a fist down on his thigh just to feel a bloom of new pain that's is brighter and new compared to the eternal goddamn throbbing of the old. It's... nice. He tries it again on the other side.

Jesus, how fucked up is this? That this is what helps?

"Hey, hey now," Nat says, and before he can do it again she takes his wrist in her cool hands and holds his arm steady. "Not your best idea. I didn't call any part of you useless, that isn't what I said, honey."

"I wanted to walk to the goddamn gas station." Jameson glares at her hands, but he holds still under her deft, gentle touch. He doesn't pull away, or hit anything, he just... sits here, his knees shifting and muscles twitching in a pointless attempt to escape what's inside of them, what's as much a part of him as his own breath in his lungs now. "It's less than two miles. Less than two! I used to-... to run, on the treadmills in training, for fucking five miles, ten miles, no fucking sweat. My handlers told me I had a record for going so fast. I could run for fucking days on end, if I had to! Now..."

He groans, dropping back against the arm of the couch, even angrier when hot tears burn against his eyelids, trying to force their way out.

"Jameson-"

"Now... I can't even fucking walk."

"You do have the crutches, and the chair you can use, I know the sidewalk runs all the way past the gas station-"

"I wanted to fucking walk, Nat! I felt really good this morning! This shit didn't start up until I was putting on my fucking clothes! I shouldn't have fucking needed the goddamn fucking crutches or the stupid fucking chair!"

He grabs almost sightlessly for the crutch leaning against the couch, has it in his hand, and pulls his arm back to throw it.

"I hate this fucking shit!"

Nat's hand closes back around his wrist, and this time her grip is like iron, and Jameson feels his rage wither when he meets her steady hazel eyes.

"Jameson. You are not going to throw that."

Nat rarely uses this voice. Not with him. But now she does, firm and even stern, brooking no appeal. If she wasn't Nat, that voice would be an impossible turn-on. He'd be on his knees, not that he could do that without screaming any longer. He'd be begging her for... anything.

If she was Nanda...

No one's ever going to be Nanda. Not ever again. He pushes down the sharp, if finally slightly faded, spike of pain.

Nat refuses to let him look away this time. "Listen to me. That crutch is a tool, not a weapon. It was a gift, and it is a gift for you. It lets you go places you could not go before. Just like the chair. So if you break it, it's broken, and you lose that tool. Please, honey, don't cost yourself something that helps by getting angry at it for being needed."

"I didn't need it, before," He whispers, and she takes the crutch away from him, laying it down on the floor. He lets her do it. "Even when I was on the run. I didn't need this shit until I started getting better, and it feels like I'm just getting worse."

She nods, and holds his hands in her own. The ache in his fingers fades a little when they warm to each other. "Your body is incredible," She says, voice low. When he scoffs, she shakes her head, smiling. "Come on, let me finish. You survived two people who tried to kill you."

"Technically five people have tried to kill me."

"Five?" Nat looks, briefly, so baffled that Jameson nearly laughs. "You've only mention the two-"

"Those were the two where I killed them first," He says, voice low. "I don't even feel bad about it."

"I know. And I'm not asking you to feel bad. I've done some things in my life I'm not proud of, too, but it kept this safehouse together and I don't regret it for a second."

"What... what did you do?"

"We're not talking about me. I'm saying that you lived when other people died. You have survived more than any other runaway I've ever met. Your body carried you through it. It kept you alive. It kept you moving, kept carrying your weight when it wanted to give out because you hadn't given up fighting. Now, it doesn't have to carry you so far anymore. Your body knows you're safe, that you have people here who care about you, so it's hurting like hell because it hasn't allowed itself to hurt as much as it needed to for a long, long time. Your body carried every bad thing that ever happened to you, and I for one am grateful for it, because it got you here to us. Look at you."

Jameson shifts, trying to move his legs so he can face her. They protest with a scream that he has to grind his teeth against, but he manages to get both feet flat on the floor. "Look at me?"

"Yeah. Look at you. You're alive, honey." She smiles, hands on either side of his face, and he finds himself - reluctantly - smiling back. "You're alive and you wake up every day and sometimes the days are good, and sometimes they're not-"

"Like today. Today sucks."

She laughs, short and soft, and he loves her so much it is physically painful, the way that you love a mother, or a sister. "Yeah, okay. I'll give you that. But today is just one day, and you've got more comin'. Maybe tomorrow you can walk to the store, or maybe you'll need the crutches or the chair, but you know what? You'll still get there, if you want to, because you are the most stubborn son of a gun on earth and if you want those awful taquitos, I know you'll find a way."

Jameson's smile shifts. Incredulous, he asks, "Did... you just say 'son of a gun'?"

"Oh, shut up. I grew up in a family where that was just about the worst thing any of us could say without serious punishment. Sometimes that stuff still comes out." She pokes him in the nose, watching him wrinkle it in response.

There's a pause.

Then he clears his throat.

"It wasn't, uh, it wasn't taquitos." He discovers he's mumbling, flushing a little.

"Oh. Doughnuts, then?"

"No, not those, either, just... it's stupid. But Vince, uh, the other day he made this stupid fucking joke about Red Bull, so..."

"So..." She blinks, eyebrows furrowing. "You were... going to buy him a Red Bull?"

"I was... gonna buy about fifty and put them in his bed."

Nat just stares at him, blinking, as seconds stretch slowly out. "You were... you were going to-"

"Buy like... fifty Red Bulls and put them in his bed, uh, cover them in his fucking blankets and like arrange them like a person, and then... you know... It, uh, makes better sense in context."

"How could it possibly? You know what, doesn't matter. Here's what we'll do. You get those crutches on your arms, and i'll drive you to the gas station, and we will... we will get you your... fifteen Red Bulls."

"Fifty."

"Oh, my God. Where do you even get that much money?"

"... Vince gave me money."

"You're using his own money to prank him?"

"It's not like he fucking needs it!"

"You know what? I'm going to stop asking questions when the answers only give me new questions to ask." She pats his arm, and he takes the opportunity to brusquely throw an arm around her and crush her tightly to him in a hug. "Jameson-"

"Thanks," He mutters, then pushes her back and away so he can clumsily get on his feet. His knees nearly buckle, but when he throws his hand out Nat is holding the crutch, and he slots his arm into the cuff that fits just below his elbow. Nat has to hand him the other one, and help him with his shoes, and the whole time his legs ache like someone is slowly sawing them off with a nail file, but he stays standing.

He wants to play this stupid fucking prank on Vincent fucking Shield, and he can already tell it's the only thing he'll be able to do today and even that's only with Nat's help.

By the time they get back from one single errand he'll need more painkillers and a nap just to recover enough to finish putting the energy drinks into Vince's bed. Then maybe another nap after that.

But it's what he wants to do.

Fuck it.

If he only gets one thing to work on this shitty day, it might as well be the most bafflingly confusing thing he's ever done.

Plus, Nat always plays Jameson's playlist when she drives him in her car. So that's one good thing.

-

#jameson bb #whump #chronic pain tw #aftermath of whump #recovering whumpee #escaped whumpee #caretaker and whumpee #self-harm tw #brief but still worth the tag I think #bbu #box boy universe #box boy #box boy whump #writing

[bonefall]

was going thru the gray wing tag and i was wondering how on earth (if at all) does he make it up to bumble for not doing anything while she was exiled? like youd think that the godfather of your kits would do something and im sure she mustvd been pissed off at least a little

I'm not sure where they even begin, but the honest truth is probably that there was no way Gray Wing could ever really make up for it. They led reinforcements to Thunder's side to rescue Bumble, and eventually helped to retrieve their kittens from Shadow's Clan, but that's never enough.

I can't see Bumble holding a grudge, though, and bottom line is that both of them are pivotal to early ThunderClan's success. They're cordial, but I see it as the sort of thing that never has a satisfying conclusion. Gray Wing insulted the memory of Turtle Heart that day, forever traumatized Sparrow and Pebble by allowing them to be separated from their other mother, and realized that the old love for Clear Sky had fermented into a poison in their heart.

Gray Wing failed as a godfather and as a friend. Bumble isn't the sort of person who 'holds him to account.' There's important matters to attend to. It's something they can't unpack until a long time later.

#better bones au #BB!DOTC #During the aftermath of the First Battle it probably feels particularly small and far away #It's hard to hold onto it when so many people you love are dead or dying #After all the work you did trying to make a better future for them #But in any case BB!Bumble will never have to fucking apologize for doing nothing wrong god fuck that scene #Gray was in the wrong here #And that's the point

[rocksass]

WHO was gonna tell me Terra’s VA (Jason Dohring) is in SCIENTOLOGY????!?!?!!

Leah Remini and Mike Rinder I need you to do the lord’s work once again

^ literally us in our living room when I found out

#I found this out by chance on Wikipedia #I wish I hadn’t #kingdom hearts #kh #birth by sleep #BBS #Jason Dohring #Terra #scientology #Leah Remini: Scientology and the Aftermath

[i-am-still-bb]

Whumptober 2022 - Alt. No. 13 - Crutches

Fili/Kili, G

Dead Batteries AU (Tumblr / Ao3)

--

Kili did not remember much of what happened in the hospital. The doctor checked him for bruising from the seatbelt. And he got x-rays.

He was sent home from the hospital with an aircast, crutches, and hospital pants.

“Do you want to go home?”

Kili shook his head. He had to be helped into the back seat of Dis’ mini van. The crutches were set between the two captain seats in the middle. His dad had come to the hospital, and when it was clear that Kili was going to be okay then he went back to work.

“Do either of you need lunch?” Dis asked once the van was one and A/C turned to max.

Kili shook his head.

“Can we just go home, Mom?” Fili asked. He buckled himself in.

“Of course.”

When she pulled out onto the street Kili reached for Fili’s hand, but Fili pulled his hand away and tucked them in his lap. He kept his gaze firmly fixed on the window.

#whumptober2022 #no. 28 #alt. no. 13 #crutches #the hobbit #fic #aftermath of a car accident #bb writes #fili/kili #fiki

[healersadjust]

Kissing away tears (;

i said they wouldn’t be sad, but… i mean… perhaps ONE sad one wouldn’t hurt too much…

jokes aside, you have me the inspiration to actually flesh out the immediate aftermath of that one. painful level 83 quest. thank you so much for the request!!!!!!!

spoilers for endwalker level 83

Finally being into her own skin once more, Aki didn’t hesitate to excuse herself. She couldn’t hear her companions calling for her- all she could focus on was getting away, away.

Seeing her marks glowing red as she stared down some of the people that mattered most to her, weapon in hand, ready to tear them apart… She was brought back to her childhood fears.

She didn’t pay attention to where she went. She just walked. She needed to get somewhere isolated and preferably warm enough to banish the chill from her bones.

She pushed her way through the camp, looking for the nearest empty building she could find. She settled on a little closet inside one of them, shutting the rickety door behind her.

It all was too much. She had seen herself become the monster she always feared becoming- the monster her father was convinced she was.

Perhaps her father was right. Perhaps she truly was a curse, destined to destroy everything she came across.

She scooted herself into a more comfortable position against the far wall, her chest heaving as she let a few tears escape. Those few tears turned into sobs as she held herself tightly, her tail wrapping around herself. Her marks let off a deep blue glow.

She didn’t hear the door open.

“Oh, my star,” G’raha’s voice interrupted her momentarily. She looked up to see his painfully sad expression and broke down even further.

G’raha knelt next to her, keeping a healthy distance. He knew better by now than to get too close when she was like this- patience was key.

G’raha didn’t need much patience that day, however. Aki lunged forward, closing the door once more with an outstretched arm as she fell into his arms. He caught her readily, pulling her as close to himself as he could.

“Let it out,” he whispered as he brought his chin to rest on her head. She buried her face into his chest, letting go of herself for just a few moments. She grabbed onto the back of his coat, squeezing as tightly as she could.

Eventually, she began to slow down. And then, there were no more tears to shed. She pulled away enough to sit face to face with him, still staying as close as she could. He was warm, and she was so incredibly cold still.

“Tell me about it?” G’raha asked as she brought her head up.

“Zenos,” she whispered. “He made me become a monster. I-” She hiccuped. “Father was right!” She dissolved once more into a fit of tears. She brought her hands down to her sides, clenching her fists. She felt her nails stab into her skin- they had grown so much since they arrived in Garlemald.

G’raha resumed rubbing her back until she relaxed enough once more. He kissed the corners of her eyes, banishing any remaining tears before leaning his forehead against hers.

“You are not a monster. You saved Alisaie and myself,” his crimson eyes stared into her blue ones. “What Zenos did in your body does nothing to reflect on your own character. Had it not been for your incredible timing, I don’t think I would be drawing breath right now.”

She wanted to protest. Her mind did, after all. She was just too exhausted to bring those words to the surface.

“Would you like to see if we can find you somewhere to rest?”

“Here is fine,” she croaked out. G’raha pushed himself up against the door to block it. Aki crawled back over to him, leaning up against his chest once more. He rubbed circles on her back, humming softly.

“Thank you,” she muttered, craning her neck to kiss his jaw.

“Of course, dear star.”

And like that, she was out within seconds. They would be pulled back out soon enough, but the respite was long overdue.

#ffxiv #v time bb #final fantasy xiv #aki mitsuo #endwalker spoilers #in from the cold #this did a number on aki… the immediate aftermath dosent even scratch the surface #thank you so much for requesting!!!! sorry it was another sad one

[paybackraid]

AO3 decided to be annoying about it so I’m hyping it here.

What if the movie didn’t end so lucky? After all... driving down? Why would that work?

#my writing #creative aces #bob's burgers #the bob's burgers movie #bb fanfic #chapter 1 #probably will not promote the rest of the chapters but who knows #character deaths #aftermath #alternating pov #probably only 5-6 chapters

[apocalyp-tech-a]

Remember in Season 1, Episode 1 Aftermath, Tech says "I am merely stating a theoretical hypothesis based on factual data?" Well, that's what I did, I made a "logical conclusion." From Lama Su coming back when we thought he was dead to the infamous "domicile," it was all factual evidence that was meant to push us in a direction of hoping that Tech would return and that CX-2 could be the way he does it. I'm not stupid, and neither are you. There's an underlying reason that I love Tech not based on just his handsome looks. I don't claim to have an exceptional mind like him and I don't intend to convince anyone that CX-2 was Tech, but I do want to explain how it could be construed through the way that character was presented that he could have been and none of us were wrong or "losers" to think so as well as the possibility of Tech's return in general.

45 69 Reasons and more well on the way, lol...

General reasons: *Tech is never seen actually dying. *Hemlock being untrustworthy source of death certificate. *The return of many thought to be dead characters in past Star Wars from Darth Maul who was sliced in half to Lama Su - the door closed on him and we thought he was getting shot by troopers only to show up alive later and this happened in The Bad Batch itself. *CX-2 is shown walking toward the 'light' after dropping off Omega, symbolically toward a future redemption. @astrovoidy *Height change on starwars.com *The word 'dead' danced around on official sites and by BB employees *the similarities to Winter soldier @on-a-quest *the cryptic tweets that showcased reborn characters like Gandalf *The official poster of CX-2 shows him in 'good' light. @eriexplosion *other people in professional settings like New Rock Stars on youtube thought the same exact thing *the large focus on CX-2, over multiple episodes *misleading title of last episode "The Cavalry Has Arrived" *Tech being smart enough to find a solution *If Season 2 could be compared to Empire Strikes Back, Tech was taken from us the way Han Solo was, but Han Solo was returned so surely Tech would be as well *no one expected a main ensemble character permadeath *the fight with Crosshair music had hints of "The Sacrifice" in it *Tech’s whole big conversation with Romar was about culture and memory, and he helped Romar restoring a data repository. Between the implication that Tech would have lost his memories and Phee saying, “Tech’s brain was the databank, not mine,” you could easily see that as foreshadowing for Tech getting his memories back. @heyclickadee *All the little one line reminders and goggles shots up through episode twelve only serve to make the audience want Tech back. They aren’t closure, they’re reminders of his absence. [Tech never being quite mourned.] @heyclickadee *The goggles are lit, or look like they’re lit, in every scene they’re in except the last one, which sure makes all those earlier shots deliberate. @heyclickadee

Physical and character similarities: *the shrimp posture *the kick in the fight similar to droid kick in S1E1 *the similar hand to hand combat style *the shooting accuracy- ipsium cave/ plan 99 *the elegant deliberate movement especially of hands and fingers *the animated head and body when speaking *the helmet – even has his hairline @jorolle *the viewfinder similar to Tech's and utilized just as often *the pouches(!!!) *the limberness and agility *the confident capability *the crouching/getting on one knee - Tech is an infamous croucher! *the deviant nature – ignoring orders *the technology know how *the flying – some say the turn on Teth was a Tech Turn *the extraness of tool/weapon twirl *armpad like Tech's datapad @wolveria *CX-2's ship has similarities to the Marauder @wolveria *Tech CC-9902 / CX-2 - both end in 2 @wolveria *We are reminded this season that Tech was especially good at decryption. What do we see CX-2 doing on Phee’s ship? Yeah. @heyclickadee *Season two went out of its way to establish that Tech has a high pain tolerance, is a good close range fighter (he won a life-or-death fight with a guy when he had that broken femur), quick processing speed, and is an excellent shot. All skills we see CX-2 exhibit. @heyclickadee

The 'British' accent, speech inflection, pronunciation. and vocabulary (this alone is enough to onvince anyone...): 'You better get back HERE." - "I know the girl is HERE." "The fifth IS Omega." - "The girl IS alive." "Who are you?" - "Who are you?" "Naveecomputah." - "Neveecomputah." "DOMICILE." - "DOMICLE."

Cinematic framing similarities: *the limping *the coming out of the water @lilacjunimo *hooking the rappel hook rappelling down was like dangling off the rail car *the boulder moving *helmet viewpoint from CX-2 in finale, only BB members ever had that

Conjectural situations of suspicion: *the beef with Crosshair *the constant surviving *the pausing when choking Crosshair *the pausing to look at Phee *The implications that Crosshair seems to know something about CX-2 (he wants to get out of dodge when he knows CX-2 is coming), and the intense lingering guilt Crosshair feels—and which is never dealt with! It’s still there through the finale—implying he knows or suspects it’s Tech. @heyclickadee *“Whatever they did to you, whatever you’ve done, you’re still one of us,” offered by Rex towards the CXs @heyclickadee *Crosshair’s character arc this season being partly about realizing that anyone can change and that no one is really beyond saving, which would have continued going somewhere if he thought CX-2 was Tech and considered him beyond saving, but then changed his mind and realized he needed to try. Notice that he does not engage CX-2 in 11 like he did in 7, and that this comes after his revelation about giving people a chance in 9. @heyclickadee *CX-2 is even more Tech like in 11 than he was in 6 and 7. This implies that he could be starting to wake up, and that almost killing Crosshair triggered that. He doesn’t kill anyone except one of his own guys on Pabu (or Phee) even though it would make his job much easier. He even has Hunter and Wrecker in his sights and moves his aim to not shoot them directly. @heyclickadee *Crosshair has no way to know that the CX’d clones come out different and that their identities are erased unless it happened to someone we know. In fact, there’s not reason for the CX plot to exist unless that horrific thing happens to someone we know. @heyclickadee *The first episode of the show starts out with Hunter covering for someone who supposedly died in a fall. In fact, there are direct parallels in the lines: “Where’s the Jedi?” “I stunned him when he jumped. He didn’t make it.” vs “Where’s Tech?” “Omega…Tech didn’t make it.” I’m not saying Hunter was covering for Tech; I am saying that is the only place in the script where we see those phrases matched up. @heyclickadee *Tech being CX-2 would have fit in perfectly with each member of the batch experiencing a traumatic loss (and regaining) of agency that correlated directly to who and how they are as people. @heyclickadee Foreshadowing lines: *More machine than man, percentage wise at least. *Better late than dead. *See you around, Brown Eyes. *Tech's not gone. *The operative's gone rogue. *Romar saying he's a survivor and Tech's look at him. *Don't go running off with any pirates or smugglers. @heyclickadee

Abandoned storyline reasons: *The romance with Phee, surely it wouldn't be abandoned!? 🙄😡 *CX-2's death being anticlimactic *The finale seeming rushed and incomplete *Actors saying there were script changes *CX-2's accent in the finale was not only like Tech's as it was in previous episodes, it wasn't even a clone accent (wtf was that) signaling a script change

@wolveria made a great analysis here with her Tech-Genda ! @heyclickadee gave great evidence, more in comments!

Having said that, here are some reasons it may not have been him: *Too many characters coming back from the dead. *The way he says 'clones' in Infiltration was more reg accent. *Tech's line in the cave to Omega which "was a big one to me” in retrospect: "I am aware that you miss him, but we have to adapt and move on." As for the intentions of the writers to either have been forced to change the script, but can't admit it due to NDAs or if they truly meant for CX-2 to be Crosshair's foil which to me was unnecessary and unclear, especially with all of the evidence above, at least they could have made him talk and move like a reg. Making him talk and walk like Tech was, to be frank, cruel on top of a cruel we already experienced in Plan 99. I think this is the last time I'll personally address Season 3 or the finale unless to support other commentators/creators and for my own fix-it and art and writing. And I look forward to seeing everyone else's works as well and hope no one gives up this beautiful Batch or fandom as I almost did. Canon seems done with him, he belongs to us now. 💜 And if anyone has anything I missed (I'm sure I'll think of more myself), feel free to comment or reblog with that addition or a link to your own post and/or I can edit the OP to include. Also, don't feel like you can't make your own post about this subject! But I do hope this maybe helped anyone still dealing with the 'aftermath' like me, to know you're not alone, and you did not read too much into it. (In retrospect, I can't believe they killed him though, lol. What the kriff were they thinking!?! #too handsome to die #too awesome to die)

#tbb spoilers #the bad batch spoilers #star wars #the bad batch #cx-2 #tech the bad batch #tech tbb #tbb #analysis #the bad batch season 3 #TECH LIVES! #DOMICILE y'all!!! what the kriff...

[marvel-starwarsfangirl]

Why Crosshair Will Live

(aka an essay by a Crosshair girlie who loves her clone husband too much)

So, I've been thinking long and hard about the final season and how it could end. Obviously, it's gonna be an emotional rollercoaster and all that. However, there's always going to be discourse about who's gonna bite it, especially since our main characters don't have plot armor and this show is allowed to go way darker than Rebels. Crosshair is my favorite character and I don't hide that at all. He's all over my page. But looking at his character, there's a part of me that believes he actually might make it out in one piece. Let's get started!

"Redemption Equals Death"- Out of all the tropes, this is the one Crosshair embodies the most. He was the villain for a season, but now he's changing his ways. In past seasons, I would've said this is how his story ends. His brothers find him and Omega on Tantiss and he goes out protecting them, proving he deep down he still loved them. But after season 3, I don't think that's the case anymore. I think he's passed the point. Crosshair in season 3 is actively redeeming himself through his actions and words with his family and the other clones. We don't need to see him go out in some big self-sacrifice because we already see the person he truly is inside. More importantly, his family sees the person he's become. He's already proven it in so many ways. Crosshair openly admitted his mistakes, saved Hunter from the wyrm, is very protective of Omega, and saved his brothers, Omega, and Rex + Howzer from CX-2. At this point, Crosshair has passed the "redemption equals death" marker. His redemption is playing out and the people around him are seeing the changes.

His Character Arc- Crosshair's character arc has always been about loyalty and identity. Go all the way back to season 1 with the infamous "this is who I am" line and his whole spiel about the Batch not being loyal to him. "Aftermath" shows us this poor man already beginning to struggle. In season 2, Crosshair is going through every hurt no comfort fic trope in the book. This man was pushed to the brink, with every sense of his being questioned. And he almost didn't make it. Crosshair in "The Outpost" was so close to dying after trekking through the blizzard and shooting Nolan. He's suffered through so much already from being severely burnt to freezing, and now almost drowning. Pretty much half way through season 3 and Crosshair's trials aren't over. His hand is still bothering him and he's still trying to find himself.

Although Crosshair has made peace with his family, I believe he still needs to make peace with himself. He's been humbled sure, but there's more to go. Who is he if he isn't a soldier or sharpshooter? Crosshair's arc will probably finish with him realizing being a soldier isn't entirely who he is. His hand tremor still could be related to his internal conflict, we don't know. So far, he's doing a great job. We've seen Crosshair begin to find peace on Pabu and comfort with Omega. It would be so satisfying to see him make it out of this mess alive. My best BB ending would be him (and his brothers) alongside Omega retired somewhere. They have each other and that is enough.

His Poster and Theme- Crosshair is the only character as of right now in the Batch who has a separate poster for season 3. Not even Omega has a separate one (although I can see her getting one later). In fact, Omega shares her with Crosshair. Both are wearing their prison outfits, showing their shared situation and stand against a white/grey backdrop. We also see Cross gripping his right hand, referring to the issue he's having with it. However, he also has one of himself in the same golden lighting as his brothers. Crosshair stares at his helmet with a calm look on his face and appears to be contemplating. That has to mean something. From my POV, I get the sense he's wondering about who he is. Wouldn't it be a great ending if Cross finds himself and lives to see that self be happy?

He is also the only member of the Batch (Omega aside) to have his own theme/leitmotif. He has two actually: his Imperial one and his heroic one. His heroic theme aka the "Mayday" theme is stunning and highlights his struggle perfectly. You can actually hear it in season 1 fun fact but it's faint. The fact that he does have a separate poster and theme from the others does give me hope that he will make it. Not to say that the others aren't important, but something about Crosshair and his journey is very meaningful to have warranted this. You can argue that he shares the title of "heart of the show" to some degree because his arc is the most dynamic of all the Batch. His struggles and fight back towards the light truly raise this show to greatness.

Crosshair is also season 3's "Batcher of Year" award and so far, they're doing everything we wanted and more. For two whole seasons, his character has been building and building towards this season. And they better give us a great payoff. Crosshair's character going to continue to soar as the season progresses. I can definitely see him making it through to the end because of the focus on him.

Omega- how can we forget about the kid who never gave up on our grumpy sniper? Omega (and we can argue Cross to a lesser degree) is the heart of the show. She gives the Batch a new outlook on life and it is through her that they grow and change. Omega brings out the paternal and softer side in each of her brothers. Crosshair, however, takes a bit longer to get there. He's the only character whose main development happens away from Omega. When he finally gets home, he becomes Crossdad. But Omega is still a kid, despite her capabilities. If the other Batchers die, who will take care of her? Omega being on her own just doesn't feel right. We also know going off with Rex wouldn't feel satisfying either even though he would take really good care of her.

Now that Crosshair is back, it feels like the show is propping him up to take over Hunter's role. Hunter parented for 2 whole seasons. As the mentor figure, he might bite it. But wait! Crosshair is still here. There is no way the writers would just let Omega finish alone or get killed off. She will have someone with her. Crosshair, having spent the majority of the show away, will probably be the best candidate narratively speaking. As mentioned above, he gets two posters showing just how integral he is this season. He's also been getting a lot of screen time with Omega. So, I can definitely see the show ending with just the two of them left. It would be bittersweet, but still satisfying.

Disney- let's ask the question: would Disney kill off an entire family aside from their child? My best guess is no (this isn't a Disney movie with a prince to save the day). Tying into my last point, I can't see this family-friendly company letting a literal child lose her entire family and end up all alone in the end. We all saw Rogue One and we know that this is a plausible option. However, I'm beginning to think that they aren't gonna do that because again, Omega is a child. She's gonna hopefully have one, if not all, her brothers alongside her. And I swear, if they give her to someone else not named Crosshair, Hunter, Wrecker, or Echo, I will blow a gasket. She needs her family. Disney and Star Wars is all about hope and it's not very hopeful to me if all of the BB but Omega dies.

Rebuttal- let's get this out of the way: if Cross dies, it will be with his brothers, protecting Omega, and defeating Hemlock. There is literally no other way he could go out that would be satisfying. He's redeemed and fought the Ghost of Crosshair's Future (aka CX-2). Backpedaling on his character arc would suck. If he dies, it will be as a Bad Batcher, a loving brother, and the best sniper the galaxy has ever seen.

But I don't think that will happen. I do genuinely think Crosshair has a chance to survive. But what do you guys think? Obviously, I'll still be nervous about the whole thing, but I'm trying here.

#star wars #the bad batch #tbb crosshair #please guys just let me have this #crosshair will live #im manifesting this right now #he will be ok #he and omega will be together #and all will be well #jennifer do you hear me #let's get our prayer circle and hold hands #tbb omega #tbb meta #tbb analysis

[ratedfleur]

ganda x hao links? 🥹

also please don’t rush! i just wanted 2 send this so you could answer when you’re available hehe <3 hope you’re doing well bb!

- 🎻

nsfw x links | ganda and pogi edition

🚫: links below contain 18+ content.

📝: the first link is just g&p coded like that is exactly how i imagine how pogi fucks you 🫠 i hope you’re doing well too babes! 🩷

[link] you acting like a brat meant making you cry and whimper as hao fucked you into ecstasy, he always liked to shut you up by fucking you dumb.

[link] the types of pretty nudes that you take to entice hao into coming home faster, indeed it does work like a charm.

[link] your fingering videos get a little creative when it comes to sending them to hao who keeps them safe in his gallery.

[link] most of the time, hao likes to lick and situate himself by your tits, liking how it feels to have you in your mouth just to relax.

[link] mirror sex with hao means his cock is in you whilst both hands are busy tweaking at your nipple and your swollen clit.

[link] when you once riled hao up when you were both running errands, he knew he had to pull you into the nearest changing area just to finger you.

[link] even if you whined and cried for hao to stop, he knew that those words meant nothing so he fucks you even harder and switches positions.

[link] [link] hao’s racy valentine invitation to you and only you.

[link] your suggestive valentine hint at hao.

[link] and the aftermath of each other’s invitations led to passionate sex by the window, touching and pleasing each other.

© RATEDFLEUR — ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.

#mikha’s asks. #mikha’s [🎻] anon #— ganda & pogi #zb1 #zerobaseone #zb1 zhanghao #zb1 zhang hao #zb1 smut #kpop smut #kpop hard hours #zb1 hard hours #zb1 imagines #zb1 x reader #zb1 scenarios #zhanghao headcannons #zhanghao drabbles #zhanghao scenarios #zhanghao hard hours #zhanghao x reader #zhanghao smut

[illdowhatiwantthanks]

Masterlist & Request Guidelines

I'm in a hardcore fanfic-writing fixation rn so please, please feel free to request anything. Masterlist and Request Guidelines below.

MASTERLIST

Olivia Benson (Law & Order: SVU)

Can You Stay?

Alex Cabot (Law & Order: SVU)

Alex Cabot x Reader Headcanons

After General Anesthesia

Alex Cabot x Casey Novak x Reader SFW Headcanons

What You Give

Carol Danvers (Marvel)

N/A

Rosa Diaz (Brooklyn Nine-Nine)

N/A

Jennifer Jareau (Criminal Minds)

N/A

Casey Novak (Law & Order: SVU)

Clueless

Someone Will See

First Time (18+)

Sunday Mornings

She Likes You Anyway

Empty House (18+)

You're Safe Now

Home for the Holidays

Take Me Out to the Ball Game (18+)

I Need You To

Your Brother's Wedding

Casey Novak x Reader Headcanons

After General Anesthesia

Panic! At the DA's Office

Alex Cabot x Casey Novak x Reader SFW Headcanons

Maggie Pierce (Grey's Anatomy)

N/A

Emily Prentiss (Criminal Minds)

Coming Out

Let Me Keep You Safe (18+)

Emily Prentiss x Reader Headcanons

Shelter from the Storm

Don't Lie to Me

The Surprise (Part 1)

The Lentil & The Blueberry (The Surprise, Part 2) (18+)

The Kidney Bean & The Grape (The Surprise, Part 3)

The Kumquat (The Surprise, Part 4)

The Fig & The Lime (The Surprise, Part 5)

The Peapod (The Surprise, Part 6)

Burning (18+)

The Lemon & The Apple (The Surprise, Part 7)

Arizona Robbins (Grey's Anatomy)

N/A

Natasha Romanoff (Marvel)

N/A

Amelia Shepherd (Grey's Anatomy)

Sick Call

Aces

Tea for Two

Strap Up (18+)

Postpartum (18+)

Playing It Safe (18+)

Callie Torres (Grey's Anatomy)

N/A

Cristina Yang (Grey's Anatomy)

N/A

REQUEST GUIDELINES

If you have requests for characters outside of the above, please feel free to send them on anyway! The above are just characters I've written for before. If I'm familiar with the character/source material and the request meets my parameters, I'll be happy to give it a shot!

PARAMETERS:

I only write x reader. I don't really enjoy writing about already-existing relationships or character ships.

I only write for people with v*lvas. I absolutely welcome non-binary/gender non-conforming characters/readers. Just be aware that, where smut is concerned, I only feel confident writing about humans with v*ginas.

I don't feel comfortable writing dark!characters or smut that's degrading. Kinks and other smut-related requests I take on a case-by-case basis. But I absolutely will not write anything that even gets close to the line of non-consensual. No shade to you if the above are things you enjoy reading/writing, they're just personally not for me.

Autistic readers are so welcome! I love reading and writing x autistic!reader fics!

I do feel comfortable writing about the aftermath of trauma (sexual or otherwise), most mental illnesses, etc. I enjoy a good hurt/comfort fic and, as someone who's dealt with both of the above, I know it can be very comforting to read something that makes you feel like you're cared for and safe.

I also really enjoy writing headcanons, so feel free to request those as well! The same rules apply for headcanons that apply for fics.

Send those requests on, bbs!

#fanfic #fanfic writers #fanfic requests #x reader #x reader fics #x autistic reader #autistic writers #law and order svu #svu #criminal minds #grey's anatomy

[wrdn-tabris]

BATMAN BEYOND/TERRY McGINNIS; a reading list

So, you're interested in the Batman of the future! A series which takes place in the far off year of... 2039? Listen, the original show came out in the nineties, you gotta give it some slack.

Hopefully here I've compiled a nice list of the comics, as well as any extra appearances of Terry, Batman of Neo-Gotham.

Who is Terry McGinnis?

Terry McGinnis is our seventeen year old protagonist. He meets Bruce Wayne after the old man helps him in beating back a gang who take after the late Joker, and in helping Bruce into his manor discovers that he was formerly Batman. After his father's murder, Terry steals the hi-tech batsuit in order to hunt down the people responsible for his death. In doing so he sees Gotham for how corrupt it really is, and becomes the Tomorrow Knight and Batman of the future.

Where to start?

The best place to start is with the 1999 animated series of the same name. It takes place firmly in the DCAU, alongside Batman: The Animated Series and The Adventure continues, Superman TAS, Justice League and Justice League Unlimited.

The show goes over three seasons, with cameos in a spin off called The Zeta Files (which only ran for a season) Static Shock (ep, Future Shock) and Justice League Unlimited (The Once and Future Thing; part 2, Epilogue) and a movie, Batman Beyond: Return of the Joker.

While the cameos are more optional, you don't really need to watch them, though Epilogue is treated as the 'end' of both JLU and Batman Beyond. ROTJ also has two different versions, a censored and uncensored one.

You can watch it on WatchCartoonsOnline, though I'd be a little careful with using that site. If you also have MAX, it should be available for streaming on there.

Comics wise, I apologize for not putting individual issues. I've also included links to readcomicsonline for each comic.

DCAU Tie-In Comics

These tie in directly with the show, and as far as I know, were released at the same time.

Batman Beyond I

Batman Beyond II

Superman Adventures #64

Unlimited and 2.0

The unlimited and 2.0 comics take place post show, and are in the same universe as the DCAU so I personally consider it canon to the series.

Batman Beyond: Hush Beyond (2010)

Batman Beyond: Industrial Revolution (2011)

Batman Beyond: 10,000 Clowns (2012)

Batman Beyond Unlimited

Batman Beyond 2.0

Justice League Beyond

Justice League Beyond 2.0

(and optional, the Superman Beyond comics. I think Terry only has some cameos, but it's always fun to hang out in the world a little bit with different characters)

Superman Beyond 2011

Superman Beyond 2012

N52 Futures End and Rebirth

Futures end is... personally, I'm not a fan. While Terry isn't Batman for the entirety of 2015, 2015 takes place in the aftermath of futures end, while Rebirth is the aftermath of 2015, only a few months later.

N52 Futures End #1-17 #18-30 #31-48

Batman Beyond (2015)

Batman Beyond Rebirth

Neo-Year

A reboot of BB, Urban Legends #7 and Neo-Year set off as Terry's own personal sort of 'year one' as Batman, one without Bruce. I'm personally highly enjoying it so far, and I feel like it does treat his character very well. Neo-Gothic is currently on-going.

Urban Legends #7

Batman Beyond: Neo-Year

Batman Beyond: Neo Gothic

Optional Individuals and Cameos

Batman #700

Superman/Batman 2010 Annual #4

Milestones 30th Anniversary A story with Static and Terry

Batman 2016 #135

Countdown #21 (Just a brief cameo)

Justice League vs The Legion of Superheroes #3

Batman: Beyond the White Knight

This is as comprehensive of a list as I can get, including almost every appearance of Terry's that I can think of. I hope that this helps anyone who is interested about Terry, he's personally one of my favorite characters and I think he's really fun and compelling.

#batman beyond #terry mcginnis #dc comics #dc reading list #cara speaks #dcau

[ashintheairlikesnow]

Hurt

(Vee asked for a continuation of this piece I had requested of Taron helping homeless AU! Jameson after he was badly injured)

-

CW: Description of wounds, runaway whumpee, reluctant caretaker, defiant/angry whumpee, some pet whump references

He'd made it to the alley near the guy's restaurant, figuring he could ask for some bandages or something - there's a good first aid kit, there. The guy's helped patch him up before.

But sometime before he could knock on the back door, he'd stopped being able to get back up when he fell down. The cold of the gravel and broken pavement in the alley had felt good against overheated skin, and he'd stopped trying to stand.

Then there had been a touch, and some sound, but Jameson hadn't been able to track it. He slipped in and out, bright flashes of pain, the sting of something over his stomach that made him flinch, murmured curses or apologies. In and out, dark and light. At some point he coughed and the pain was so bad he stopped remembering how to breathe.

There'd been some water sipped through a straw, he thinks now. There's a light somewhere above him, shining through his closed eyelids. A warm blanket.

And voices.

"Well, he's stitched up," He hears one voice say. A woman. He can't find the energy to open his eyes to see who it is. "I'll give Dr. Masood a ride back home. He'll live, Taron, but I can't take him."

"You can't?"

"No, and I'm so sorry. I know you're attached to this one, but I'm just not able to right now."

"Nat, I really need-... you're sure you can't, at least for a while? I don't know what to do. I can't keep him."

Jameson doesn't dare move even enough that they might realize he's awake. The disappointment in the man's voice, how he sounds genuinely depressed that whoever this woman is won't just take the inconveniently hurt little runaway off his hands... that... that hurts. Jameson didn't realize he could still be hurt that way, by someone not wanting him.

Huh.

That's... that fucking sucks. That hurts in a way he doesn't have a ready defense for. He'd thought the guy maybe kind of got along with him, a little.

"Nat, please. Please."

Jesus, he's begging someone to take Jameson off his hands? Tough strong scarred motherfucker so tired of dealing with Jameson's shit that he'll beg someone just to cart him away?

Jameson's teeth grind together. His side aches, where the knife had slid in when they took his warm coat, when he fought them trying to keep it.

His eyes burn.

Don't cry, he thinks. You don't cry anymore. You won't cry ever again. This is what people are like. Shouldn't have ever kept coming here. What, you think a runaway pet gets to make a fucking friend? Stupid piece of shit cotton-brained motherfucker, dry the fucking waterworks and get up off the fucking cot.

But his body won't move.

"I... Look. I just. I'll ask around and see who can maybe take him on. Do you have any idea who he was before? Designation?"

There's a pause. "Does that matter? For what you-... what you do?"

"Not for me, but... some of the others only take certain types. It's... it's a fight I'll never stop having. But if you have any idea, that might help?"

"No, I don't-... that's. No, I don't know. He just needs somewhere to go... and it just. It can't keep being here."

Don't cry don't cry don't cry don't cry don't cry-

They walk away, out of earshot. Jameson lays there, breathing as carefully and evenly as he can. Eventually, he finds his legs answer him when he wants them to move. He can still hear their voices, but farther away. They're not between him and that back door back into the alley.

Clinking of ceramic tells him someone's drinking coffee. It gives him cover to swing his legs over to the side and slowly force himself to sit up. Fuck, it hurts like hell. His side is a line of bright fire burning over the stitched-up wound. There's a shirt, one of the guy's. It's way too big but Jameson pulls it on anyway, drowning in the fabric. LIke wearing Nanda's old shirts sometimes, just so he could smell him when his master was away.

No.

He won't go down that road. Not now.

Getting pants on is harder, but he manages it. His own pants, stiff with dried blood, but fuck it. Fuck it all the fuck to hell. If Taron wants to get rid of him so badly, he'll make it easy for everyone involved and fuck right off on his own two feet.

Granted, his feet don't want to hold him. He has to balance against the wall, while his knees buckle and the world swims and the pains takes his breath so far away his lungs are screaming before he can inhale again.

But it's just one step after another. One hand on the wall, one foot maybe dragging a little, but he's been in pain since Brute, and he can keep being in pain forever if he has to. He was made to take the pain, after all, right from the start. Not pain like this, but... but he can handle it. He can take it.

And maybe this time he'll fucking learn his lesson. No one wants a scarred-up piece of shit runaway slut around. He's been bumming shit off this guy for too long already. This is just his sign that he's worn out his welcome.

He has to learn to stop wanting to be... wanted.

It's the hardest bit of his training to lose.

Everyone's just a different kind of shit, in the end. Everyone will hurt you, unless you learn how to stop being hurt. Stop being anything but a wall so thick that nothing can break through it, no one can break it down.

Pain rolling up his side, nauseating and throbbing, he turns the doorknob as quietly as he can. And still he hears the guy's voice say, "Wait a second-"

He tells himself not to pause.

But he does.

"If you don't want me around," He says without looking at him, voice rougher than usual and thready-thin from the pain, "Just fucking tell me, man. No hard feelings, yeah? See you around."

"What-"

Jameson nearly falls right down the steps, but somehow keeps himself balanced until he's walking as fast as he can with a limp down the alley, wondering how far he can get before his legs give out beneath him.

He grinds his teeth so hard his jaw aches.

“Wait!”

Just keep walking.

Don't look back.

Don't let it hurt.

Don't you dare fucking cry.

Not this time.

Not again.

#jameson bb #jameson au #homeless whumpee #runaway whumpee #stabbed #stab wounds #wounded whumpee #bbu #natalie yoder: here to help the rescues #broken trust #angry whumpee #scarred whumpee #jameson kind of made me cry a little with this one #defiant whumpee #aftermath of stabbing #angst #all hurt no comf

[bonefall]

is there any death in the rewrite that you consider to be really graphic? where do you draw the line in the violence of a character's death?

Hmmm... Probably Tigerstar honestly! The cats wrote a song about his organs falling out.

I think when it comes to the "line" of a character's death, it's very subjective. Me and every other kid who read WC pogged out when Tigerstar had a really drawn out, horrific death on-screen, but I'm still haunted by Sootfur with his broken leg, falling down towards a badger while Squilf couldn't save him and seeing the aftermath of his "sightless eyes" when the animal moved off him.

One of those was objectively less graphic, but imo a LOT more harrowing. I think emotions are a lot more important in how deaths are received by an audience than the actual blood and guts, which I think gives you a decent idea of what you're gonna get here.

I think Leopardstar's rock concert is the "ceiling" of how intensely I describe deaths. I think that one's pretty graphic, but it's for a reason. The point is that it's a brutal killing that haunts Mistystar, you get me? And I try to write "around" the gore, describing sounds, the rest of the body, etc.

There is also cosmic/body horror with the Ancestor Rats, and more importantly, BB!Cats do food processing. They skin dead animals and separate the organs and such. When I get around to doing an entry on animal fat, I would also like to show WHERE in the body the fat is stored on certain animals. It's a lot more important to nutrition than you think it is.

BUT whenever I feel like I'm "around" Leopardstar's Boulder Appointment or an Ancestor Rat, I always always tag that. Less "violent" things like the song about the organs (Tiger's In A Heap) and more gentle food processing (like an offhanded mention of removing entrails or skinning) isn't tagged.

If I ever end up including a "diagram" of where fat is stored in the body or "how to properly skin a small rodent" It will be tagged as gore and I'd try to stay tasteful to begin with, I would ABSOLUTELY never drop something like that on anyone untagged and unwarned.

#I have what I consider a high benchmark for gore (medical + mortuary science education + did some butchery for hunters) #So when it starts to feel iffy to ME that is my threshold for tagging things as gore #But I am very bad at understanding when people are sensitive towards like... carnivores eating meat or carcass processing #Because legit in my head that's just Making Food #I go to the store and it is not hard to connect the cuts to where it was on the animal #AND I was raised to heavily value ''appreciating'' meat because an animal died to feed me #cw talk #bone babble #ugh now im thinking about deer stew #mmmmmmm #I miss the taste of game

[misshoneyimhome]

Oh I think I found the perfect kink for Willy with the intern he has a hickey/biting/marking fetish she should return the favor and the guys tease him about it when they see marks down his back

Oh bb, I'm so with you on this! 😉

Willy def has a thing for marking up intern as his, and of course, she'll return the favour as she too should let everyone know he'd taken 🤍

I know you prob didn't ask for an entire chapter on this, however, I did take the opportunity to continue the story a little - hope that's alright 🙈

Warnings; 18+ smut; oral sex (m receiving); blindfold; mild choking; uprotected sex;

Word count; 4.8K

・✶ ｡ﾟ

Sink in the river the lessons I've learned I William Nylander 🖋️⚡️ [intern x willy]

"Fucking hell, William Nylander," you mumbled to yourself while getting undressed in the bathroom, checking out the aftermath of his antics on your inner thighs. Shades of blue and purple from bite marks, a lingering hint of red from his beard burn – a vivid reminder of the night's escapades.

Despite the pleasant memories, a twinge hit you as the hot water cascaded down your body in the shower. Nevertheless, you managed to chill out, letting the soothing water flow before tackling the morning routine to head back to Toronto.

Stepping out of the bathroom, you were met with the delightful sight of your boyfriend sprawled on the bed. His toned physique entwined in the bedsheets, blissfully oblivious to the snoozed alarm. Absolutely stunning. Blond hair tousled on the pillow, his torso rising and falling with each deep breath.

It still amazed you in many ways that he was yours. Yet, the reality of having to discreetly sneak him out of the hotel room, maintaining a facade of professionalism and distance in public, lingered as a reminder. As soon as you both stepped into the public space, you'd transform into distant friends rather than the intimate couple you were behind closed doors.

Deciding to join him on the bed, you gently sat down, caressing his back as he stirred in his slumber.

And as you sat there, taking in the sight of him, your fingers traced lightly over his smooth skin. The subtle paleness seemed strangely tempting, especially after the vibrant marks William had left on you. The urge to reciprocate and create some colourful artwork of your own became too enticing to resist.

Leaning down with care, you made sure not to disturb him entirely before the inevitable blare of his alarm. Soft, butterfly kisses graced his broad, toned shoulders as you delicately explored his skin. The kisses grew firmer with each passing moment, transitioning into gentle sucking and neatly placed bites, creating a rhythm of desire.

William stirred from his slumber, feeling the gentle touches on his skin. "Morning, babe," his dark, husky morning voice echoed. "What time is it?"

"It's five forty-five," you whispered, planting a final kiss before resting your head gently on his shoulder.

"Hmmm," he grunted deeply, slowly turning under your body, prompting you to reposition. Stretching your arms, you leaned over him, meeting his tired eyes. "What a beautiful sight to wake up to," he chuckled.

"Oh, you're one smooth talker, huh," you smiled, playfully rolling your eyes in response.

Your banter softly continued as William's fingers traced lazy patterns on your back, and you couldn't help but revel in the simplicity of the moment. Despite the secret nature of your relationship, these stolen moments held a charm of their own.

But as the alarm rang, the reality of the day ahead settled in. The need to get ready and face the world outside the cocoon of your shared intimacy became unavoidable. So, with a sigh, you reluctantly untangled yourself, reaching for your clothes scattered across the room.

"Shit," you gasped while putting on your jeans.

"What's up, babe?" William grinned from across the room, pulling a shirt over his head.

"I can't fuckin’ get my jeans on because of your little burns between my legs..." you flashed him a disapproving expression, but a smile soon replaced it, meeting William's satisfied smirk.

"Oh, well then I guess you'll just have to wear a skirt," he offered you a mischievous look, his eyes sending a cheeky wink before he approached you and placed a kiss on your forehead.

"Hmm... seems like you've really thought this through – but I guess you're right," you once again rolled your eyes with a light chuckle.

Dressed and ready to tackle the day, you exchanged a knowing look with William. It was a silent understanding of the delicate dance you both had to perform – maintaining a balance between the private world you cherished and the public facade you wore.

"Time to go," you said, a hint of reluctance in your tone. And William nodded, a mix of understanding and disappointment flickering in his eyes. The routine of slipping back into the roles you played in public felt like a subtle betrayal to your relationship.

He then opened the door, quickly scanning the hallway to ensure no managers were in sight, and turned back to you, flashing a sweet smile. "See you down at breakfast."

After a swift kiss, he left you alone for a few more minutes before you'd exit the room, re-joining the team and the rest of the staff down at the restaurant.

On a brighter note, the trip home unfolded smoothly, with the usual banter and camaraderie among the team. Only Mitch, as predictably late as ever, made a last-minute sprint to catch the bus that would transport everyone to the airport. Aside from that, everything was set for the journey back.

Despite the recent loss, the boys managed to maintain their spirits, sharing jokes and laughter throughout the flight. And as you observed the playful interactions, your attention inevitably drifted towards William. Memories of the previous night lingered in your mind – the possessiveness, the frustration, and the sweet moments that had followed, creating a tapestry of emotions.

Lost in contemplation, your phone buzzed in your hand. A text from Willy lit up the screen.

'What's so funny, babe? 😚'

'Just thinking about last night, nothing else 😉,' you replied, a playful smile gracing your lips.

‘Hmm, maybe we should repeat the success then? 😏’

‘Willy!’

‘What?’

‘Not here!’

‘Why not… we can sneak to the toilet? You know, join the mile-high club 😜’

The mischievous suggestion made you pause for a moment, entertaining the idea in your mind. However, the practicality and the risk involved quickly sobered your thoughts. The plane, after all, wasn't the most discreet location for such adventures.

But then again, a daring notion crossed your mind – everyone on the team already knew about your relationship. Perhaps they'd been the ones to challenge William's audacious proposals. And the idea brought a sly smile to your face as you contemplated the potential for mischief on the journey home.

Then William's phone buzzed again, and you couldn't help but glance at him, noticing the mischievous grin spreading across his face as he read your response.

‘Alright 😉’

‘What? 😮’

‘Let’s go then 😉 if you really mean it, then let’s do it’

Your chuckle couldn't be contained as you noticed his furrowed brows, studying his baffled expression from a distance.

You loved how you challenged his overly confidence. He was always so smug and cheeky, but in that very moment, he seemed a little torn between remaining in control, not giving in to temptation and taking you up on the challenge.

However, just as William was about to excuse himself to the toilet, Coach Keefe rose to speak to the lads, followed by Sam discussing video analyses and what to focus on for future games.

‘Seems like it has to be next time 😏 guess I’ll just have to enjoy the view of you in that little skirt from here…’

You smiled at William’s text.

‘If you’re lucky 😉 Oh, please do enjoy the view’

Smirks were exchanged across the airplane as you both let the fantasy play out in your heads.

And as William had to return his attention to the coaches’ words, you decided to sneak away for a short moment. Then, standing in the tiny toilet, in front of the mirror, you took in a deep breath and let your confidence shine.

You knew well enough what such action would do to your boyfriend, and you couldn’t help but smile as you undid your shirt, hiked up your skirt, and let the tiny fabric of your panties show, capturing a photo of your lingerie.

And for the rest of the flight, you couldn't help but wonder what would be in store when you returned.

**

On the following day, almost forgetting about your mischievous move the morning before, you entered the Scotiabank Arena like any other home game day.

You met with the equipment staff, assisted in setting up everything to prepare for morning skates and tonight’s match, and went over the media plans for the night with Melanie and Jennifer as you’d be capturing the boys when they’d arrive.

However, your mind was a little preoccupied during the day. After your move with the photos in the lavatory on the plane yesterday, William had done nothing but remind you of what you were to expect tonight after the game.

He'd texted you in rather explicit details of what he’d do to you for teasing him like that. For torturing him well aware that he couldn’t get a release for as long as you were among the team and staff. And what had made it even worse; as soon as you’d landed, Jennifer had offered to drive you home. Which meant William couldn’t do it, nor could he drive you to his place and give you what you deserved.

He did, though, send you a little sneak peek of his member, just as a reminder of what you’d been missing out on. However, as the day began, his overly satisfied smug face was soon to fade.

As soon as William arrived for the morning skate at the training rink and joined the team in the locker room, he was immediately called out.

“Wow! Someone’s not hiding that they’re getting some action, huh, Willy?” Max shouted the moment William stood bare-chested.

“Hold on! Did you and y/n do a little something in New York?” Auston joined in with a mischievous grin.

“What are you guys talking about?” William questioned, unsure what they were all laughing at and referring to.

“Come on, Willy! You’re like a Monet painting,” Mo chimed in with a deep laugh.

Baffled by the many comments and chuckles from his teammates, William sought out a mirror to study himself. And as soon as he saw it, he knew what you’d been up to.

His shoulders and the back of his neck were all covered in shapes of your gorgeous lips. Like small bruises, it was obvious he’d been on his stomach, and you’d paid attention to his back while he was asleep.

And he knew it must have been the morning before in the hotel room. He thought you’d been set to give payback after he’d left his mark where he’d been. However, in his defence, no one would ever see your colours given the place.

Yet as he returned to the lads, he wore a great smile.

“Damn, Willy, didn’t know the two of you liked it rough,” voices echoed through the room as comments were still tossed his way. But he could do nothing but chuckle darkly as he was nowhere near embarrassed of showing off his actions.

“Well, if you think this is something… you should see her,” William flashed the boys a confident wink before he was met with ‘oooh’s and high fives.

Meanwhile, you were merely doing your job.

The anticipation and tension added an extra layer of excitement to the game day, and you couldn't help but steal glances at William throughout the evening, wondering just how he planned to follow through with his promises once you were finally alone.

However, though the thoughts were intriguing, they were swiftly replaced by the game of the night as the Leafs were facing off against the Avalanche. Despite the great lead in the first period, Colorado set to redeem themselves and by force took the win in the second and third periods, completely skating all over the Leafs and concluding the match 5-3.

The boys were beyond frustrated and angry with themselves as they cooled down in the locker room following the game.

And though Coach Keefe tried his best to motivate the lads for the next game, Tavares adding in a few heartfelt captain words, the players were not in the spirit of ‘looking at the bright side.’ No, all they wanted was just to win next game. And it could only happen too slow.

Then, with the team slowly emptying out the locker room, you kept a discreet eye on William, trying not to stare too much.

But it was tougher than ever. Seeing him frustrated like that, all you wanted was to run to him and comfort him like the other wives and girlfriends had done. However, you remained at a distance, trying to meet his eyes and making sure he understood how much you cared for him.

And it seemed to work. Every time your eyes met across the room, he flashed you a soft smile, signalling that he knew you were there for him.

They were almost soft moments, filled with romantic glances and smiles. However, you were not to be fooled. Despite his charming face and boyish sweetness, William was very much still keen on reminding you who’s in charge of your relationship. Especially since you’d decided to wear the same skirt as yesterday, just to tease him a little.

But he could not have you walk around, thinking you were suddenly the boss, with all the praise you’d been receiving lately. Giving him hickeys and bite marks like that, as if you were marking him up as yours in front of everyone. Oh no, he could not have that.

And let’s just say that the loss from the match only fuelled his fire.

His mischievous attitude created tension across the room as he met you in the hall, a tension that could’ve been cut through with a knife.

"So, you think you can just give me hickeys like that and get away with it?" His dark, rough voice echoed through the air as you both made sure you were all by yourselves.

"Mm," you softly nodded, flashing him your sweetest innocent puppy eyes as he approached you, coming in closer into your personal space.

"Oh, you're so in for it," he whispered darkly, his lips forming a smirk, making you beyond tempted to just have him take you right then and there.

"Bring it on, Nylander" was all you needed to say before William practically dragged you out, not caring whether you'd signed off for the day or not. Had you said goodbye to your boss? Probably not, but William didn't care. You had been a tease, and he needed to remind you of who you belonged to.

The ride was short, yet it felt longer. William's intense glare occasionally meeting yours as he navigated through the city.

Which was a little amusing to you. In the beginning of the season, he'd been taking the subway to the games, not wanting to bother with traffic. However, as it proved impractical in case, he wanted to take you home sooner rather than later, he'd opted for the car lately.

And as he parked the car and you both made your way to the lift, he hoisted you over his shoulder, giving your bum a proper slap, holding you in his grip during the ride up.

Giggles echoed through the room and the hallway as he walked with you to the front door. And as soon as you entered, he put you back down. Quickly, coats and shoes were tossed aside before William clashed his lips into yours, closing the little gap there was between you.

And his hands were all over your body, massaging and squeezing your ass and breasts before tangling his fingers in your hair. And you met him with equal eagerness. The pent-up desire and the fiery intensity of the moment painted a vivid picture of passion that was about to unfold.

Your mouths explored each other as you let your palms roam his chest and found his neck to wrap around. It was hungry and intense. William driven to make you his and send you into a level of pleasure he knew only he could provide.

But you too were feeling rather confident. Despite the sombre feelings after a loss, you were just as driven to take charge and make your man feel good again.

With fumbling steps, making your way through the condo and tangled in each other’s touch, you only made it to the kitchen before you withdrew and untangled from one another, catching your breaths amidst the hunger.

It was almost like a battle where William was determined to show off his dominance, and you'd be challenging his every little move.

“Don’t think you’re in charge here,” he spoke darker than ever before, but you were more than tempted not to give in to his dominance.

So instead, you just looked up at him through your lashes, flashing him a sensual, naughty look before you dropped to your knees. Your hands never leaving his body on the way down, stopping by the hem of his trousers, which you pulled down along with no hesitation.

And William couldn’t exactly complain. Simply enjoying your determination to challenge him, he elicited a chuckle and relaxed by your touch as you undressed his lower half and unleashed his awaiting semi-hard cock.

His hand swiftly found your hair as you placed kisses around his intimate area, lightly licking his balls a little before turning to his shaft.

“Fuck baby… just- oh!”

You cut off his impatience by taking him into your warm mouth, causing William to tilt his head back and shut his eyes close.

A mix of grunts and moans escaped the man above you, his grip on your head getting a little firmer as you let his shaft slip in and out of your mouth, coated by saliva as you relaxed your throat and took him deeper and deeper.

"Oh baby… you’re so good," praises sang from William’s lips as he let himself sink more into your touch, feeling the climax slowly build up within him.

It was only fair, you thought. He was always making such an effort in going down on you, making you feel incredible, and now you wanted to return the favour.

But William wasn’t entirely ready to give it all to you. Despite how much he loved how you tried to take charge; he was still the one who’d planned to punish you for your little mischievous behaviour on the plane. And as you bopped your head, focusing on breathing through your nose as you worked his length sensually with your mouth and hand, William began rocking his hips against your movements.

His subtle thrusts almost choking you as he held your head in place, discreetly forcing his member further into your mouth, causing you to lightly gag.

“Mmm yesss, your fucking mouth feels so good,” William’s voice echoed through the condo, mixed with your sobbing and gagging sounds.

And you couldn’t help but moan into his member as you felt his thigh muscles tense under your touch, his climax evidently about to reach.

However, William remained determined to his initial idea and withheld his peak as he retreated his cock from your delicious warm mouth.

You panted as he did so, refilling your lungs with air as you managed to regain control and looked intensely up at him with a smirk on your face, biting down on your lower lip.

“You think you’re such a good girl, huh?” William chuckled above you, gently stroking his thumb along your lips. “But you’ve also been very bad…”

Your smirk slowly faded as you saw how dark his eyes had turned, his breathing heavy as he studied your face.

“Get up,” he commanded, and you knew better than not to do as told. Yet a light chuckle escaped you as you rose, and you had a feeling that William wouldn’t react softly to that. “Don’t laugh, baby…”

Then discarding all his clothes and swiftly turning you around, William’s strong arms held a tight grip onto you as you had to support yourself on the kitchen counter. Then bending down, he found the tie he’d been wearing tonight, and gently he wrapped it around your head, covering your eyes and stealing your sight.

You let out a small gasp as you were blindfolded, your arms slightly feeling weak, your legs trembling as you felt intrigued by what was about to unfold.

“This fuckin’ skirt…” his rough voice sounded from behind you, and before you knew it, William tore up the fabric that covered your lower half.

“Willy!” you gasped as he threw away your ruined piece of clothing.

“This skirt has been taunting me baby, and you know it – it had to go… and so do these,” and then he forcefully ripped your panties from your body as well.

“Are you going to destroy all my clothes?” you almost mockingly spoke with a sly grin across your lips, and with no words needed, William then tore apart your blouse. “I take that as a yes,” you whispered, feeling yourself getting more turned on by his dominant behaviour.

And William couldn’t help but let out another dark chuckle as he observed you before him. Your almost naked body, clothes ripped by his eager hands, and your bum in full display for him, bend over the kitchen counter, ready to take his cock.

Then, he let his large hand slowly run up your back, unclasping your bra along the way, which you quickly  tossed, before he made his way to your mouth.

With slightly parted lips, you let him stick in his fingers, first two then three, coated them with your saliva as you sucked them, before he withdrew and traced them back down your body. Slowly down your buttocks and ending between your legs where he led himself to feel your heat.

“Oh…” soft moans escaped your lips as you felt his fingers trace up your folds, letting them be coated with the juices you’d formed while giving him head. Yet, it was more intense than usual. The lack of your sight enhanced your other senses, including the touch on your skin.

“It turns you on pleasing me, baby?” he asked rhetorically, not in doubt as he felt your warmth. “So, fucking wet for me.”

And with ease, William let his two thick digits slip into your core, past your tight entrance as he stretched you. 

“Willy,” you gasped, moans becoming louder as you felt him slowly pumping in and out of you, your essence coating him. But William desired more than just playing with your cunt.

Using his other hand, he gently wrapped it around your neck, lightly holding a firm grip without blocking your airways. “I asked you a question… does it turn you on, sucking my cock? Letting me choke you with it as you’re on your knees for me?”

You tried your best to gulp under his touch. Feeling his fingers curl inside you as he rubbed over your sweet spot.

“Yes,” you finally managed to speak, slightly shaking as he stimulated your walls, your mind slowly going foggy as pleasure coursed through your body.

“See, you can be a good girl,” William whispered roughly, before retracting his fingers. However, he didn’t let you feel void for long. Instead, he again inserted his digits, three fingers this time to stretch you even further. And again, your moans increased as you were gasping for air underneath him.

Your breaths were uneven and deep as he kept pumping. Sounds of your wet cunt mixing in the noise he was creating from you. And you couldn’t help but feel the intensity of a pending orgasm approaching. Your hands gripping tightly onto the counter as William stimulated you, almost too much with every motion.

And soon, you were on the brink of a climax, clenching your tight muscles as you were unable to speak properly.

“Willy… please… I want to – please I’m gonna cum,” you cried out.

And William couldn’t contain his amusement as he made you into his little hot mess.

“Yeah baby… come for me,” he spoke. “Cum all over my fingers and show me what a girl you are.”

It was too intense. He was being so rough with you, yet you were beyond the state of pleasure as he fingered you through your orgasm, and you shouted out his name in between deep moans.

You had to take in deep breaths in order to regain control again, trying to calm yourself from the intense high as William slowed down his motions and gently took out his fingers from your heat.

And he couldn’t help but admire you, taking his fingers to your mouth once again, letting you open and stick out your tongue so you could taste just how good he was to you. You let yourself suck on his fingers, cleaning them as you tasted your sweet juice. 

William’s member was throbbing as he watched you, feeling your mouth suck passionately just like you’d done with his cock. And he couldn’t control himself any longer.

Withdrawing his hand, he then took a firm grip on your hips, giving his length a few strokes before he lined it up with your entrance. And with one forceful motion, William pushed himself all the way into your heat.

“Fuck,” you screamed out as he filled you up, hitting the very back of your depth before he drew back a little and then pushed back in.

The movements were hard and rough. As if he was letting go of deeper emotions, anger he’d been holding back.

And soon, he began rocking his hips, firm and deep thrusts, as his cock massaged your walls. His skin loudly slapping against yours as your moans harmonised and echoed through the condo.

William’s nails were almost digging into the skin of your hips, and your bum cheeks were slightly glowing a hint of red with every forceful pound.

“Yes, baby, you take me so good!” William breathed out heavily, feeling himself growing more and more eager for a release.

And your tightness around him didn’t exactly slow him down. Increasing his speed, he felt how you clenched around him, and soon he felt his climax about to peak.

“Willy… I’m gonna c-c-cum again…” you whimpered as he fucked you senseless, no mercy in his motions.

“Then cum… show me how good you can be…”

And again, you let the intensity of a rush flood over, blurring your mind as you squinted your eyes behind the blindfold. You could almost feel how your cunt sprayed your juices all over William’s cock, even trailing down your leg as you moaned out his name and a string of curse words.

Sweat was covering William’s skin as he enjoyed the view of you trembling because of his doing. His body hot from the exercise and the high about to take over his mind as well. And just with a few more thrusts, William let out a deep grunt, surrendering to the rush of a climax, and let himself paint your walls with his white paint.

“Shit baby,” William panted as he pumped his length a few more times into your heat, letting the rest of his cum fill you up as you both were coming out of the ecstatic state of mind.

And for a moment, William stood still. Letting you cock warm him following by the intense high, as he regained control of his breaths and enjoyed your walls pulsating around his tender member.

Then gently, he pulled out, undid the blindfold and guided you to stand and turn around in his embrace. Your eyes blinking a few times as they adjusted to the light and the sight of your handsome man.

“Hey, you’re feeling okay?” William asked softly, delicately caressing your cheek as you let out a soft sigh and simply leaned into the soft touch of his hand.

“Yeah, Willy – I’m feeling perfectly fine,” you smiled up at him, your eyes glistening with his ocean blue.

And as you stood there, in the kitchen, taking in the sweet moment, you couldn’t help but let out a small chuckle.

“What?” William smiled.

“Nothing… just thinking, maybe I should challenge you more often,” you gazed up at him, flashing a sweet smile as you rested against his large, warm body.

“Hmm…” he merely smiled, as he looked down at you. “Maybe, I think you should too.”

Amidst the sexual rush, sweat, and the scent of William’s condo, you relished the intimate moment between you. A tender moment following a road trip filled with challenges, jealousy, and then a lost home game.

“Let’s go take a shower,” you suggested with a soft tone of voice.

“Good idea.”

Once again, you felt a slight twinge when the hot water met your skin. But you didn’t care. The comfort of William’s touch was more than enough to wash away all the pain.

“Willy,” you whispered softly, resting your head against his chest as you stood with your back against him.

“Hmm?” he mumbled into your hair.

“I love you…”

You could almost feel his satisfied smirk.

“Baby, I fucking love you too.”

#my asks #intern x willy #18+ #william nylander imagine #wn88 imagine #nhl hockey imagine #toronto maple leafs imagine #nhl smut #william nylander smut #william nylander fic

[nashiriel]

could we get the scene of the immediate aftermath of the whole cannibal x bb!luke bonding? like luke’s family’s realizations and immediate reactions?

Hi anon! Sorry it took me a while to get to this interesting ask!

TBH, thinking it through, a lot of the reactions would probably mirror the aftermath in the main fic. Though perhaps considerably heavier on the WTF aspect , for obvious reasons!

But below are a couple of rough snapshots of some different perspectives on the matter...

She had carried fear with her from the moment they first laid Jace, pink and squalling, in her arms. Does not a mother always? That which came with his first fever, his first tumble from Vermax’s saddle, the first day he went proudly to the training yard. Other nightmares too, those her maidenhood’s mind would never have conjured; Alicent’s seething triumph at each dark-haired babe presented to her, the whispers crawling through court when Luke’s egg stayed cold and inert in his cradle. And then, to find her family besieged in the Velaryons’ own halls, the flash of Alicent’s dagger raised towards her child, the sting of its bite barely felt amidst the bitter satisfaction of finally having that pious poison loosed before all.

But none of these compare to the moment the messenger staggers gasping into her solar. Rhaenyra hears children, beach, hears the Cannibal, and then all that comes between then and the moment she dives from the sky upon Syrax, is lost to a cold roar of panic.

She had known the Stranger’s face long before her own children’s. She knows what to expect as the beach opens up before Syrax’s wings, wet sands and sweeping ink, even as every scrap of her screams against it-

The bodies of her men still lie smouldering. A dragon, white and slender as mist, crouches atop the rocks, pockmarks of dark sand bubbling to glass where blood drips from his scored hide. Laena’s girl kneels by the pale splay of his wing, cradling an arm blistered raw to the elbow as she stares with eyes scored empty with pain and wonder. 

The Cannibal, looming amidst it all. Black and vast and terrible, and the entirety of him tethered to complete stillness under the outstretched palm of her son. 

“Mother,” Lucerys breathes when he sees her, and she watches the dragon’s eyes sharpen back into sudden fury, sensing her presence only now as her son breaks his gaze. 

“Mother, look! I found a dragon-”

The Cannibal’s hiss, a gust of wind lashing through the caverns of the Dragonmont, splits the air as Rhaenyra hurls herself forward to seize Luke in her arms. His startled yelp is lost amidst the unfurled shadow of Syrax’s wings, and with a surge of triumph, Rhaenyra glimpses Caraxes rippling scarlet against the sky. 

Luke clings to her and the Cannibal’s rage fizzles back into stillness. She presses Luke close to her heart as she stares up at its eyes, knowing that her flesh alone cannot shield him from its flames but willing without hesitation to protect him with it until the last. 

Amidst black scales, eyes gleam back at her, slit green and murderous, before the Cannibal stretches its neck and snatches up the corpse of one of Luke’s guards. Too late, Rhaenyra tries to press Luke’s face to her neck to spare him the sight as the dragon’s jaws languidly cleave the body in two, the ridge white of the spine trailing tattered peach flesh as the lower half lands with a wet thump before Luke’s shocked eyes. 

Those teeth jut taller than Luke himself. Rhaenyra will not think of how the Cannibal could have simply swallowed the corpse - his fellows too - in one efficient bite, if that had been the sole purpose of that display. 

It takes the combined might of Syrax and Caraxes to ward the dragon back from following Luke and Rhaena back to the castle. She is not fool enough to think it gone completely; as dogs bay when a wolf ventures close to the homestead, so Syrax’s fury snarls through the night when she senses it prowling the clouds above. With a cold loathing, she knows Luke must be brought out again come the daylight, for his word alone would send it back to its cavern of corpses. 

And still her sweet boy frets as she tucks him into bed that night, a task she refused his maids despite how her hands still shake. 

“Won’t he be lonely, all by himself in his cave, Mother, if there are no other dragons in his nest? Can’t I see him? Tyraxes still sleeps with the baby.”

The notion of the Cannibal curled in sleep with his belly puffed in the air like Joffrey’s drowsing hatchling is almost enough to bring a laugh to Rhaeynyra’s lips before she recollects herself, smoothing down Luke’s hair with wearied affection.

“He’s far too large to sleep with, sweetling. And he cannot be here, around so many dragons. Do you truly think he would want them disturbing his rest?”

She still remembers finding that nest as a young girl, exploring some dank cave close to the lowest reaches of the Dragonmont. She and Laena had been rushed back to the castle by their guards where Alicent anxiously waited with the rest of her ladies, but they had seen enough already. Even Laena whispered of her shock afterwards. The few eggs not crushed to fine powder lay cracked open, the contents picked clean, each and every hatchling in the entire nest gone with only a single severed tail to betray them.

“I’d like to try the Cannibal against Vhagar,” Laena had vowed to them all that night, dashing and dauntless as any knight in her fine silks and well enthused by the prospect of her challenge. “See if he finds so easy a meal in her.”

Luke frowns then, nestling down amongst his pillows like some fluffed-up sparrow. 

“I don’t think so,” he says eventually, blinking up at her with those large, liquid brown eyes. “I don’t think he does like people very much. Or dragons. Only me.”

The Cannibal had looked into those eyes too. The dragon had been close enough to see its own reflection, wildfire overlain over the dark as a broken spear fell from her child’s soft hand. 

Rhaenyra thinks of another weapon then, Luke’s piping shout - “he was going to kill Jace-”

She thinks of Alicent’s son, his face carved open, and the hunger burning hot in the Cannibal’s eyes, and she wonders.

But most of all, she thinks of her fears for all of them - her boys, dark-haired and perfect the moment they were laid at her breast, the girls who are Laena’s own legacy, all the sons and daughters still to follow now that Daemon has cleaved himself to her entire. The world she was given glimpse of as she tore helplessly towards the beach, as Alicent’s blade sought her son, one unforgiving and hideous in its possibilities. 

The Cannibal can only ever be as nothing, compared to that. 

. . .

The windows in the chamber she has been given on Dragonstone are large and airy, their sill framed by two sphinxes raking each other’s tails. They do not face in the direction of the beach, but that doesn’t matter. Grey Ghost’s presence whispers through her blood like the soft sigh of the tides. She would know him anywhere.

He’ll know her too, she thinks, in the sharper moments between the watered tinctures of milk of the poppy the maester brings her to soothe the throb of her hands. He must be young, barely larger than Vermax, and he has never had a rider. There is no one for Rhaena to measure up to his eyes, no comparison between Baela’s bravery or Mother’s fire. What lies before them now is bright and unmarked as fresh snow. 

Or it will be, when they let her fly. 

“You may ride when your burns heal, and no sooner,” Aunt Rhaenyra tells her archly, dabbing ointment on Rhaena’s burns with her own soft hands. “There has been quite enough foolhardy behaviour of late.”

Rhaena flushes, unused to being scolded as a troublemaker, but Rhaenyra’s smile softens the sting. 

“Laena would laugh herself hoarse at your father and I both, for being so surprised. Your grandmother had forbidden her to try Vhagar, so she slipped away when we were supposed to be at prayer. The dragonkeepers had not fitted Vhagar’s saddle for years, so she climbed her tail and flew to greet Syrax and I barebacked. Wilful girl! It felt like half the city streamed into the streets to watch her in the air. I had never known her to be more joyful…until she wrote to me of her daughters.”

To Rhaena’s astonishment, there is a quavering note to her voice, one that sounds awfully like Rhaena’s when she is trying hard not to cry.

“She was so proud of you,” her aunt whispers. “How could she not be, like as the two of you were? Your father too. Do not think you ever needed a dragon, to make them know it.”

A knot eases in Rhaena’s chest as Aunt Rhaenyra hugs her then. She is not Mother, will never be Mother…but Rhaena finds it harder to be angry for that now, towards a woman who speaks of Laena Velaryon with such love in her eyes.

“You may go to see Grey Ghost later, if Maester Geradys permits it,” Rhaenyra says after pulling away, voice a little gruffer now. “The dragonkeepers say that his neck is healing well. He will fly…and so will you, when you’re ready. They have already taken his measurements for the saddle, though I fear we will needs must order a new one within the year. You both still have much growing to do.”

“What about Luke?” Rhaena asks, eagerly. “Will he have a new saddle too? We can fly together now!”

It will have to be a big saddle, closer to Mother’s than Baela’s, to fit Luke’s new dragon. 

Rhaenyra’s smile looks tighter than before, but she is still gentle as she touches Rhaena’s shoulder, careful not to jostle her bandages.

“One day, mayhaps. Things are…more difficult with his dragon.”

“Oh,” Rhaena says, disappointed. Though she has to admit, she…she isn’t quite sure of Luke’s dragon. She still feels a little queasy when she remembers how the air itself had seemed to erupt into shadow and flame, the disbelieving pain as her outflung hands bubbled up in white blisters in that searing heat…and how none of it had been as awful as hearing those men, hearing Grey Ghost, scream in those jaws. 

She’s glad Luke got a dragon. She knows what it’s like, to watch the skies jealously, alone but for the sting of being left behind. All their whispered plans of what Rhaena could do if their plan worked, the future she hadn’t fully dared to let herself dream of…Luke will fly with her for all of them now, and the thought sends excitement thrumming through her.

She just wishes the gods could have given him a nicer dragon. One as nice as Luke himself. 

Rhaena’s not rude enough to say that though, when Luke shyly puts his head around her door the next day. He smells of ash still, though his skin glows pink from the scrub of a fresh bath, and his lip trembles when he sees the bandages swaddling her hands.

“Do they hurt a lot?”

“A little,” Rhaena admits. “But,” and here her voice almost comes out in a squeal, so happy that she can barely contain it, “we did it! Both of us! It worked, Luke!”

“I never meant for you to get hurt though, Rhaena,” Luke insists, padding over to her bedside with uncertain eyes. “Or Grey Ghost. I’m sorry. I didn’t know the Cannibal would come.”

“You stopped him though,” Rhaena says firmly, and if it wasn’t by the spearhead he’d snatched up from - from - from that black shape crackling on the ground, well, that doesn’t matter. 

Luke had stopped it, had saved she and Grey Ghost both. Just as he had come running with Jace to help her and Baela without question, that night Vhagar was stolen. Just as he had used the knife to protect them all.

“And at least you won’t have to help me carry fish to the beach any more.”

“I didn’t mind it,” Luke says, which is a lie, because Rhaena saw how his face screwed up each time Cook dropped the bucket down in front of them, and she has to duck her head under her hair to hide her giggle. Through the fall of her braids, she sees Luke pad over to her bedside; he’s clutching a curved seashell, which he places carefully in her lap. 

“There’s no crab in it, this time. I checked.”

Rhaena blinks, puzzled, and he shuffles his feet.

“Jace told me that you should always bring a lady flowers to help her feel better,” he explains anxiously. “But I couldn’t find any in the garden like the ones you used to write about from Pentos.”

She thinks of them even as he speaks, the petals curling over in whorls of pink and white like splashes of Myrish lace in Mother’s walled garden. Mother had liked to read her letters among their perfume; Rhaena still remembers curling up next to her, fingers carding through her hair as Mother read out the funnier stories tucked in Uncle Laenor or Aunt Rhaenyra’s writing. 

“But I thought this looked more like them than the roses in the garden. It’s curly too, see? And it’s pink inside-“

He falters, staring between her and the shell. “Do you like it?”

“I do,” Rhaena manages, and she does, though her eyes swim with tears. 

“I just…I w-want-

Mother, Pentos sunlight gilding her smile, the promise of home-

“I want the flowers in our garden,” she finishes, and is immediately ashamed of herself.

Luke’s face firms in sudden resolve. 

“We can fly there then,” he declares. “Now that we have dragons. You, me, Grey Ghost, and the Cannibal. We’ll find your garden, and we’ll bring a flower home for you to plant, so they can grow here too.”

He pauses, face suddenly uncertain. “...If you don’t mind waiting until Mother lets me fly the Cannibal.”

“I won’t,” Rhaena assures him, feeling, in an odd kind of way, as light as the shell as she looks into his face. It has warmed in her hand, and she notices there’s a hole in the outer lip, where the pink fades into coils of white. She will thread her silver chain through it, and wear it close to her skin.

Anyone else, she might not believe they meant it when they made her a promise like that. But Luke had believed in her from the first. Luke had helped her win a dragon. Luke had stopped the Cannibal. 

She’ll trust him until the day she dies. 

“Where is the Cannibal now?”

“In his cave,” Luke says, sitting cross-legged as he looks up at her. “He wants me to come to him, but Mother hasn’t let me today. I’ll have to go to him soon, or he’ll try to crawl through the gates again. Syrax hates that. He hasn’t gone to the beach though, I promise. I don’t think Grey Ghost likes him.” 

“They will be best of friends one day,” Rhaena vows, and her heart soars when Luke beams at her. 

“Just like us.”

Rhaena has a dragon. Father is proud of her. She will see Mother’s garden again with her own eyes. 

In this moment, all things are possible. 

. . .

Viserys expects many things when the letter is laid in front of him, the wax embossed with the ancient seal of the princes of Dragonstone. His heart swells with hopes as he unfolds it, so many in number that almost all anger is forgotten in their midst.

Rhaenyra surely writes an apology. A recognition of the customs and decency she had flouted, the disrespect in her forgetting dear Ser Laenor so quickly; in wedding without the leave of her king, her father. She will offer contrition for all that Alicent has deplored, even though both must recognise such folly cannot be undone as his queen pleads; she will beg her forgiveness as her mother, so that they might meet once as friends. 

She will even - ah, but here is the sorrow of a brother, even more so than the love of a father, stirring him - write of a new chapter, unmarred by the unhappy beginnings that preceded it. A new babe to fill her arms, a son to finally allay all that Daemon has lost.

But Rhaenyra writes of none of these things. Instead, he finds himself reading of her Lucerys, and a shadow that he has never laid eyes upon, but remembers of Dragonstone all too well.

The Cannibal.

He sinks back further into his chair, biting back an ill-natured curse as the movement sends pain throbbing from beneath his linen bandages. All his years weigh upon him then, cold and heavy as the crown upon his brow. 

Rhaenys is with Lucerys already, Rhaenyra written. His relief at his cousin’s presence in this matter, steadfast and sensible to the last, overrides the twinge of irritated hurt that Driftmark should be informed of this before word was first sent to King’s Landing.

Corlys loves Lucerys well, as is only natural, the most precious keepsake left by poor Laenor as he is. But he should not forget himself in this. They may carry the Velaryon name, but Rhaenyra’s sons are of the king’s blood. A dragon’s claiming shall always be the concern of the Iron Throne.

And  a dragon such as this…

Part of Viserys feels the surgery of pride that Rhaenyra must know, his mouth lifting in a smile as he envisions the awe and delight his own council will offer when he tells them such glad tidings. Ah, but Lucerys had proved his blood in truth, to follow his mother and take a dragon at such an age! House Velaryon can stand proud in their heir, for those foul rumours will finally be laid to rest with this. And to think of Aemond, and Daemon’s own Rhaena too! Surely his House’s future has never looked brighter, when all of the king’s blood now lay claim to a dragon’s glory. 

So how then can it be, that there is winter’s chill in Alicent’s eyes still when he call her to him at night? That his daughter soothes her grief with his brother upon Dragonstone, that Daemon should dare overreach himself as Otto has so faithfully warned and claim her hand in scorn of his king’s express command?

And why, as such churlish discord plagues his house, the Cannibal should take his first rider?

A dragon that has ever been a bane rather than blessing to their blood. A dragon that devours its own as the king’s flesh devours him, now coiling around his blood’s heart as their divide cleaves his heart as never before. 

Perhaps he is a fool, flinching from the mummer’s shadow as it plays upon his walls. But is it greater folly, to close his eyes to such portents as the gods lay them so clear before him? 

One day, such will be Rhaenyra’s burdens to carry. But for now, it is he who sits the throne, and he must bear it for her, for them all.

And so it is the king’s hand, rather than a father’s, that dips his nib into ink and laboriously brings the process of instructing Princess Rhaenyra to bring her son to King’s Landing, that his grandsire may look upon his new dragon. 

. . .

The training blade in his hand is wooden, the tool of a child, and that is only the first humiliation to be endured as he circles his target. The bristling head of the strawman seems to spread wide in mockery; Aemond’s blows fall wide of the painted circle on its chest again and again, his head split by a nauseating pain as the leather grip becomes increasingly slippery with sweat. Soon his remaining sight is wavering no matter how he tries to focus it, his breathing laboured as if he treks a mountain rather than performing a drill so basic the youngest, lowest-born page in the Keep could manage it. 

At least his brother’s reluctance to bestir from the beds of his whores has finally overcome his amusement at observing this. The squires in the yard don’t dare turn their heads to watch after Ser Criston’s sharp warnings, let alone laugh, but Aegon had had no such constraints at Aemond’s first attempts, when even attempting to swing left him reeling about like a drunkard. He cannot say he misses him, no matter how Ser Criston sighs as he reports another absence to their mother. 

Yet sometimes, when he staggers back amidst Ser Criston’s earnest encouragement, unsteady on his feet as a tottering infant - and that is what he is reduced to now, all that he has earned on the training ground wiped away by the same stroke that plunged half his world into agonising dark - he can’t help but notice the lack of another.

A voice soft-pitched with admiration and excitement, a small hand hot in his, dark eyes wide with awe as he watches Aemond move fluidly through drills his nephews hadn’t even yet been permitted to attempt. It had been an irritation at times, to have Luke trailing him about the Keep, not least the mirth it gave Aegon to foist their nephew on him as he took Jace off to the Dragonpit. Yet still there comes moments of disorientation, like the itching pull of skin when he tries to blink with both eyes, where he looks about, expecting an admiring shout or plead for instruction-

Then Aemond remembers once again, and rage grinds against the bones of his chest. 

The blade has shattered to splinters by the time the messenger arrives, telling Ser Criston that the queen has need of them both immediately. 

Normally, Mother can scarcely hide her worry at the sight of him returning from his drills; she praises his diligence and bravery, whilst a candle burns at the Warrior’s shrine each morn, Mother’s hands clasped in prayer that the gods give strength to his arm and shield him from any further wound. Today, though her face is tense with concern of an entirely different sort, all her polished composure doing little to mask her fury. 

“A letter arrived from Princess Rhaenyra this morning. Concerning that boy.”

Aemond absorbs the news she relays in silence. Lucerys has a dragon now, one large and fearsome. Lucerys has Father singing his praises in the council chamber, telling all of the wonder he has accomplished. 

Lucerys is leaving his nest on Dragonstone, finally flying back in reach after all these moons.

“They say his dragon is called the Cannibal,” Mother says, and she gives a shudder that may be unease or simply delicate disdain. “And apparently it is as savage and wild as those boys themselves. I begged your father to reconsider this foolishness, but he says he would see it with his own eyes. As if this whole affair is not Rhaenyra contriving to win his favour again-”

“She knows half the realm spits on her new marriage,” Ser Criston agrees, his hands folding neatly before him into fists. “The king’s love may blind him, but too many see her for what she is now, and her bastards too. She is desperate. Do not forget, she knows now she has your son to fear.”

Mother’s lips tighten; she is still fearful, after the last embers of her faith in her husband’s protection were quenched in Driftmark, to hear the truth spoken aloud.  

None will dare force her to parrot Rhaenyra’s lies when Aemond rules the skies upon Vhagar. 

It had been one of the few comforts Aemond could hold into as he lay recovering in his sickbed, the knowledge of that incredible strength and power of Vhagar in flight. The knowledge that the oldest dragon in the world had looked upon him, and seen worth, even when no one else had.

And sweeter still, to know that it was one thing the bastard could not take from him, that little Luke had probably spent every night since pissing himself in fear on Dragonstone, knowing that he remained tethered and helpless on the ground. 

Now Luke has a dragon. And Father expects all to marvel at his glory.

Aemond had longed for a reunion once all the thankless promise of the training yard finally bore fruit. Had pictured it a thousand times over, fantasy mingling with memory of that night. Luke’s choked gasp as Aemond’s palm slides against his soft throat, those dark eyes drawn black with fear as Jace writhes in the dust beneath Aemond’s heel.

To think, though, of the bastard seeing him as he is now, near a cripple with command lost of his blade, even his own balance, and rage churns afresh with his shame.

But still. Luke, finally come forth from the safety of his mother’s skirts. There will be opportunity here, if Aemond has only the wit to seize it, no matter how carefully Rhaenyra watches her precious son. 

“It is monstrous, that they dare show their faces. But you will not be made to endure this for long,” Mother vows, reaching out to stroke his hair. Her touch is featherlight, belying the iron resolve of her words. 

“My darling, I promise you this. That animal will not be allowed to harm you again. Perhaps this will at least give your father cause to remember what he took from you, what they would take from us all if left unchecked. His crimes against you will be answered one day, by men or gods.”

But it was not the gods, the same gods who see fit to bless Luke with yet another gift the bastard does not deserve, who had the will to seek Vhagar at her rest. Who grimly rises, day by day, to claw back mastery of his own body. No gifts are ever thrown into Aemond’s lap as a favoured son; what he wants, he can only take.   

What vengeance he is owed from Luke Strong, he will seize with his own two hands. 

#house of the dragon #lucerys velaryon #lucemond #cannibal the dragon #aemond targaryen #carrion #rhaenyra targaryen #viserys targaryen #alicent hightower #anon ask #rhaena of pentos #Luena #baby luke au

[99liners]

Would you be willing to write a drabble of what it was like for kaiho jk’s wife during the months after their marriage? how he made her quit, when she began to notice his red flag behaviour etc

opus kaiho, drabble number 2 / tatemae series 建前:

pairing: detective!jeon jeongguk x trophy!wife reader

genre: angst, fluff, smut, marriage!au, age-gap!au (7 years).

words: 4.437.

warnings: NSFW, nothing too graphic, emotional manipulation, uncommunicative!jjk.

original one-shot: kaiho

part of: tatemae; 建前 — a bts series  

a/n: man, this is extremely self-indulgent in places. my mans is tattooed and owns a harley davidson, then there’s bam too... sigh, i just couldn’t stop myself. i am ashamed. it’ll probably happen again. 

also, posting this early cause i have to make my bb @afangirllikeme-blog ‘s day! and also @chicken-fifi who is tryna threaten me,,, oof love that energy. (*/ω＼*)

“hi,” jeongguk’s voice came out in barely a whisper due to the lump in his throat which he cleared out to mumble the hi once more.

“mm, mornin’,” you replied, a smile finding its way to your lips. eyes squinting to adjust to the sunlight seeping in from the curtains that you two must have forgotten to draw properly last night.

well, last night was wild and the aftermath was glaring at you — jeongguk’s brand-new black tuxedo lay scattered; the blazer was barely hanging from the back-rest of his desk chair, the white shirt was lying at the feet of the bed and the black trousers were nowhere in sight. on the other hand, your white wedding dress lay unceremoniously in the middle of the room, the untouched material glowed even in such a predicament.

however, your attention from the mess was pulled away as jeongguk shuffled under the sheets before getting on top of you. his fingers grazed your arm before his hands guided your hands up, on either side of your head before intertwining your fingers with his. he leaned down, face to face, your chests mere metres away from each other as he rolled his hips to grind his semi hard-on against your core. he halted his movements the moment he felt the tip of his length grazing against fabric instead of your soft folds.

“you are wearing panties? thought i ripped those,” jeongguk let go of your hands to sneak a peek under the sheet.

“it felt weird to sleep without any so i put on a fresh one,” you replied, your body ever so twitching wherever his body next touched yours.

he repositioned himself to rest his head between the valley of your bare breasts while his free hand travelled down to the hem of your panties, “you slipped out of my arms? impressive. i always thought i was a light sleeper.”

“a light sleeper? you snore so loud that you probably would sleep over a gunsho- ow!” you seethed when jeongguk’s mouth found its way to your right nipple and his teeth clamped down on it.

“mm. well, you learn new things every day,” his tongue flicked your nipple before his mouth closed down over the areola to suck on it.

you lifted the sheet to see your newly wedded husband sprawled over your figure. the muscles on his tattooed hand flexed as he maneuvered his hand to insert his fingers under the panties, his fingernails grazing against your swollen folds from the passionate night.

“i thought the morning after tradition was to cook the first meal in the matrimonial house.”

“but you have already cooked the perfect meal. see, it’s so sensitive,” jeongguk twisted his fingers to stimulate your bud which had your legs trying to clamp together — your toes curling up.

you bit your lip to not let out any sound, afraid to wake up your in-laws in the guest room. last night, you both might have drifted off and there was quite a symphony of sounds but you sure as hell do not want to scar them anymore. when jeongguk came up on top of you again, you pulled him down — kissing him. he kissed you back with the same fervour, his hand wrapping your neck, deepening the kiss. your tongues lapped, matching with the speed of his fingers scissoring inside your folds.

jeongguk shrugged the cover off of you two as it kept getting caught and restricted movements. once the cover was gone, he held his length at the base, allowing the tip to grind against your folds in a slow motion while the other hand held the panties away from your entrance. yes, this is what he was missing. 

you could feel your breath hitch, your legs vibrated in reaction to his ministrations but wait — they were vibrating a bit too strongly. you reached your hand down to retrieve jeongguk’s phone vibrating to indicate an incoming call. 

your husband stopped at once and took the phone from you, in a plea to take the call.

“hey hey, no work, we just got married,” you kissed him but jeongguk pulled back.

“it’s the precinct, i have to take it,” he took the call and concluded the conversation soon after.

“i thought you took a break.”

“i applied for a vacation but we are short-staffed so i didn’t get one officially. if it was another case, i would have not gone but i have to be there for this drug bust,” jeongguk was at his feet by the end of the sentence, wearing his underwear while his busy hands unbuttoned a fresh shirt.

“are you serious?” you supported your figure on your elbows, raising your top part to gain a better view of his actions.

“mm,” he hummed as he finished buttoning his shirt before throwing on a pair of trousers.

“what about me?”

“what do you mean?” he sat down at the edge of the bed to put his boots on.

you crawled to his side and sat on his lap, as he finished tying the laces, “you are going to leave your newly wedded very-much-naked wife alone? for work?”

jeongguk placed an open-mouthed kiss on your lips before transferring you off his lap to the bed, “i thought you knew i can never be off duty technically.”

“well,” you sighed, bunching up the covers on your body.

“make yourself home, i guess,” he trailed off, checking the case status on his phone.

you watched as your husband walked out the bedroom door, not even a second glance at you and closed it behind him. a few moments later the sound of another door closing let you know that he left the confines of your matrimonial house. so, there’s that. he left you in his home with his parents on the first morning after the wedding.

︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶༉‧₊˚. 

evening:

“mr jeon are you headed somewhere?” you asked upon noticing that jeongguk’s father came out of the guest room in a fresh pair of clothes.

“uh yes. my older son’s flight will be landing soon, i was thinking of receiving him at the airport,” the older man smiled at you, buttoning the sleeves of his shirt.

your hands mixing the cake batter (you decided to make cheesecake for dessert) ceased all motion at the mention of an “older son”. jeongguk has an older brother? since when? he never mentioned about a sibling.

“oh, yes, i thought he would join us during the ceremony,” you lied straight through your teeth after regaining your composure.

“no, his flight got delayed due to bad weather,” mr jeon took out his phone, “can you book me one of those internet taxis? uber or whatever it is called.”

“mr jeon, if you don’t mind, can i come along? i can drive us,” you offered nervously. the man scared the shit out of you — a retired army officer with a house decorated with medals. it always felt like he was about to yell at you.

“would you, dear? that would be great. i will wait here while you get ready.”

you debated if you should put in the cake in the oven now or after you come back when mrs jeon came out and relieved you.

“were you preparing dessert? don’t worry, i will look after it. you go with your dad,” she offered, smiling.

“amazing, i will be back in five minutes!” you chirped, wrapping the bowl of batter with a plastic wrap before heading to your new shared bedroom.

getting ready did not take long but finding jeongguk’s keys was impossible. your car was still in your apartment along with most of your stuff and you know that your husband’s old car sits in the garage, but you just cannot find the keys. 

“y/n? it’s been five minutes!” mr jeon’s call rang through your head.

“yessir. i cannot find the car keys, hold on please,” you replied while holding the phone to your ear, waiting for your husband to take the call. it rang and rang but he did not pick up. on your third try, he finally picked up.

“what?” his voice was rushed.

“where are your car keys?”

“you leaving me already? thought you would last at least a year.”

“haha funny, tell me. i need to drive your dad to the airport to pick up your older brother.”

“oh, yeah right. he’s coming,” jeongguk brushed over the fact that he has never mentioned about his brother, like it meant nothing, “my keys are in the wardrobe. it’s in the safe i think. the combination is 1609.”

“and, when will you be back?” you held the phone between your shoulder and ear as you opened the wardrobe and input the combination to the safe lock.

“soon. listen i gotta go, bye.”

he cut the call before you could reply. putting the phone in your pocket, you opened the safe door and saw two pairs of keys. ‘oh well,’ you took both the keys when your hand touched something metal. there was something in the back of the safe. curious, you reached out and brought it out only to realize it is a gun. an actual, real gun.

“fuck fuck fuck,” your hands trembled, and you put the gun back in the safe like it was some slimy disgusting bug.

“y/n?” one more call from mr jeon had you running out.

“sorry, sorry. let’s go!”

︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶༉‧₊˚. 

at the airport, you noticed mr jeon walking towards the international flight entrance. the older brother lives abroad? what more is there left to unearth?

the ride back home was quiet mostly, the father-son duo did not talk much after the usual pleasantries. it was awkward, are they sure they are related?

once you guys reached, mrs jeon hugged her son and everyone went inside. you proceeded to park the car when you felt the bumper of the car hitting something. oh fuck. from the rear-view mirror, you saw that the car hit something wrapped underneath a white sheet. you finally parked the car properly before getting off and inspecting what is hiding underneath the sheet. a harley davidson street 750 peeked out from under the dusty sheet — oh right, there were two set of keys that you brought from the safe. once you finished fantasizing your husband riding the motorcycle, you turned your gaze to the bumper, it was crumpled inward where the exhaust of the motorcycle hit the car. you crouched down and pulled it out with all your might and tried your best to make it look unscathed and unscratched.

︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶༉‧₊˚.  

after the dinner concluded, mr and mrs jeon went to retire in the guest room while jeongguk’s older brother, jaeyoung helped you to clean up.

“i am sorry, i have to admit but jeongguk never told me he had a big brother,” you confessed sheepishly as he handed you the dirty dishes.

“not surprised. we are not really that close.”

“i seriously would have no issue to postpone the wedding had i known that you were on the way.”

“don’t beat yourself up over it, it’s okay,” he reassured you.

“right,” you smiled, soaking the dishes, “so like are you in california for a job or have you permanently moved there?”

“oh, i moved years ago. see, as you can probably tell, i am nothing like my dad so he did not really care much about spending time with me. he was too much involved in gguk’s life and slowly we drifted apart. man, your husband and i used to be inseparable as kids.”

“no... that’s too bad. why did you guys stop hanging out?”

“well, when he finished middle school, dad put him in the military school because gguk had wanted to be a cop. i mean he was kid, he wanted to be everything at that age but my dad’s chest swelled up with pride the moment he learned his son wanted to be a cop. he thought it was ‘cause gguk wanted to be like him, like he was inspired by him.” jaeyoung scoffed before continuing, “even during middle school, dad used to personally train him and we spent less and less time before he was finally sent off. a year after gguk went away for high school, i also got accepted in UCLA and left. we just lost touch that’s all, never felt like coming back.”

“i bet mr and mrs jeon miss you,” you sighed feeling bad for your brother-in-law.

“well, they visited twice. once for my wedding and then when my first kid was born.”

“you have kids? can i see?” you wiped your hands and walked to the other side of the kitchen aisle as jaeyoung brought out his phone and showed you the pictures of his kids.

“this is the older one, jason. he is ten and my daughter jennie will be six next summer.”

“so adorable,” you beamed as he showed you pictures from when they were kids.

“yeah, surprisingly they both love their uncle gguk. he came to california for some international case and stayed a summer. the kids love that guy.”

“really? man, i wish i could see them.”

“well i would bring them but my parents don’t really approve of my wife.”

“huh, why?”

“apparently, she is too white for them,” jaeyoung shrugged.

“wow, that must hurt. i bet they are happy that you are happy. you have such a beautiful wife and adorable kids.”

“thanks, y/n. it was great talking to you, i guess i will get some sleep.”

“of course. hey, i know it’s not my place but i am so sorry jeongguk hasn’t clocked out of work yet to be here with you.”

jaeyoung chuckled, “hon, if you start apologizing for my brother’s shortcomings, believe me, you won’t ever be able to stop cause there is no end. have a goodnight.”

︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶༉‧₊˚.

it had been barely two minutes that you closed the main door after your in-laws left for busan when the doorbell went off again. you noticed how the sharp sound echoed in the empty walls — proof that you were alone now.

“hi, can i help you?” opening the door, you noticed a man with a dog on a leash.

“hi, you must be mrs jeon. mr jeon asked me to drop off bam.”

“bam?” you stared at him, clueless.

“this good boy right here,” the guy patted the head of the doberman pinscher standing beside him dutifully.

“detective jeon’s dog?”

“yes, the apple of his eye. please don’t be scared, he looks scary but is a sweetheart,” the trainer spoke about his diet after taking the dog off the leash once you were all in the living room. he left shortly after petting the dog one last time.

long after the trainer left, the dog and you kept staring at each other. bam did not look too pleased to find you in his house. he circled you once, sniffed your clothes and sauntered to the couch to sit down at the edge.

once the dog sat down, your body unfroze, and you immediately dialled your husband, “we have a dog???”

“hey baby. bam has arrived? he was at the kennel since we got married. how is my boy?”

“unpleased. i don’t think he likes me.”

“he is still a puppy, he can be moody sometimes. don’t worry about it.”

“jeongguk. you have a dog. a dog you didn’t tell me about it. just like the brother you didn’t tell me about.”

“are you scared of dogs?”

“no! i love dogs. bam looks adorable but it would have been better if you had introduced us slowly so he could get used to me. that’s a doberman... one wrong move and he will have my neck... wait, that’s all beside the point. why the hell don’t you tell me anything?”

“i tell you things all the time.”

“yeah? if you did, i would not have a doberman pinscher glaring me down in my living room one fine afternoon.”

“look, we will talk when i get home, bye.”

︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶༉‧₊˚.

two weeks later:

“jeongguk, i would really appreciate it if you would just talk to me more. tell me things,” you voiced out, changing the pillow covers while your husband was freshening up in the washroom, getting ready for bed.

“i am not a talkative guy, i never was,” he replied casually, after gargling out the toothpaste foam with mouthwash.

“i know but you used to tell me stuff.”

“what do you want to know?” he sighed, walking out of the washroom rubbing his face dry with a towel.

“i don’t know. anything really. i am bored at home.”

“let’s see, mmm, hyung flew out tonight.”

your head snapped up at the statement as your hands stopped midway through pulling the pillowcase on the last pillow.

“what?” jeongguk plopped on the bed, stretching his limbs.

“your brother flew out tonight and you didn’t tell me?” your tone dripped sarcasm.

“yeah i mean, not like you would have gone to the airport to see him off.”

“uhm, y e s, i actually would have. see this is what i am talking about! you don’t tell me shit! you are always off to work while i stay here cooking and cleaning without any information. you come back home at odd hours, and we rarely talk. you eat, we fuck and then you drift off to sleep for barely four-five hours and then off to work again.”

“baby, come here,” jeongguk reached out his hand and tugged you down on him. you lost your footing and fell on his chest, but he caught you effortlessly.

“no! you always do this,” you kept trying to push him away, but he laid you down beside him, his face hovering over yours.

jeongguk leaned down, placing kisses on your lips till you finally gave up and kissed him back, “mm, how do you manage to look so hot all the time?”

“smooth talking isn’t getting you out of anything,” you pried his hand away that had slithered under your dress. 

“come on, i am barely home, let’s not fight,” he trailed kisses down your neck, his hand massaging your breast, his touch was rarely gentle these days.

you sighed, “that’s the whole point. you are never home.”

jeongguk stopped, hung his head low for a few moments before getting off of you, “look, i have a bad headache. let’s just sleep,” he laid back down, resting his head on the pillow.

you turned to him, feeling bad. suddenly it went from him not communicating with your properly to feeling guilty because you could not relieve him from the work stress he probably goes through every day, being the senior detective of the most active precinct in seoul cannot be an easy feat.

“i am sorry for nagging,” you bit your lip, sitting up, “i will get you some aspirin.”

“no, it’s fine. come here,” he pulled you back down again next to him, wrapping his arm around your waist, throwing his leg over your lower body as he got comfortable and closed his eyes.

you watched quietly as his breath evened out and he fell into a slumber. you shifted a bit sideways under his arm to get into a more comfortable position and watched bam walking inside through the half-open bedroom door. you advanced your hand towards him which he licked once before lying down on the floor under your side of the bed. big sleepy baby yawned and went to sleep. you smiled — that dog was literally what kept you busy all day but he is such a well-trained sweet baby that most days you two just laze around on the couch and spent quiet days watching television while he chewed on his toys as you rubbed his back and gave him all the scratches and kisses, he could ever ask for. bam has gone from sniffing you suspiciously to absolutely adoring you. his face lights up when you come back after grocery shopping — poor baby hates being away from you. jeongguk often teases you that you stole his dog.

well that’s what he gets for never being home. 

︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶༉‧₊˚.

“why don’t you consider going back to work?” tanaz asked as she took a sip from the second bottle of beer, one fine evening as you met up in a restaurant nearby to hang out.

“oh god, that’s another conversation. i keep bringing it up that i want to go to work and he keeps brushing it off, saying that he might get leave for a vacation anytime soon,” you replied, playing with the label on the beer bottle.

“doesn’t matter. also, why do you need to ask him before going back to work?”

“not like i am asking for permission... i am just... talking to him so he’s on onboard too.”

“babe, that is asking for permission. since when did you become like this? you guys barely tied the knot like a month ago.”

“three-and-a-half weeks and i don’t know but it’s just this aura about him, i don’t know how to explain it. you would know if you are in his company,” you rolled your eyes when tanaz interrupted with a ‘like i would ever’, “look, i don’t know, okay? i just don’t. but i cannot just do something without him being onboard at least because like, how is that marriage? you gotta communicate.”

“yes, i agree with that.”

“anyways, what’s up with you? what happened to the whole surgeon situation?”

“looks like i am going to have to be his bride.”

“you serious?” you finished peeling off the label, a bad habit when you have a lot of things on your mind — you get too fidgety.

tanaz snatched the destroyed label from you, putting it away wrapped in a tissue to be cleared later on, “yes. i really expected better from my parents. i mean, i never grew up hearing even a single word regarding marriage, they were never like you are a girl so you have to get married early but suddenly, this guy walks in and they cannot stop yapping about him. they literally call him their son-in-law. i am literally sitting there bro, their own daughter.”

you sighed, “i never realized it was that bad. do you want me to talk to them?”

“you can try, i will appreciate that. just don’t mention that you are married or they will get on with the whole ‘omg your friends are getting married too’ bandwagon.”

you deadpanned, “bro, they literally came to my wedding and attended all the marriage ceremonies.”

tanaz face-palmed, “i am not getting out of this alive.”

︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶༉‧₊˚.  

three days later:

“gguk, we need to talk,” you exclaimed, breathless after jeongguk let go your lips from a heated make-out session in order to unbutton your shirt.

“don’t cockblock me like this, baby. we can talk later, i ain’t leaving,” jeongguk trailed kisses down your collarbone, his hands unbuttoning every button with ease.

you re-buttoned them after he unbuttoned them, “really? it’s two in the morning and you just came back from work. come morning, it’s monday and you are going to leave for duty by eight. when will we talk?”

jeongguk groaned loudly, his lips detaching from the supple skin of your throat. his head hung low at the crevice of your shoulder before he took a step back, “what is it?” he rolled the sleeves of his sweat-drenched shirt, a bit stained from the coffee he spilled earlier at work. he leaned his weight on the hand placed flat on the kitchen counter, effectively cornering you in your place.

“i keep waiting but your vacation request keeps getting pushed back. i am going to work from tomorrow,” your eyes cowered every now and then as his towered over you.

“am i not earning enough for you? is that it?”

“what? where is that even coming from? i just want to keep busy. i get bored around here.”

he took steps towards you, your feet backing up in tandem till your back latched to the wall, “i work my ass off, sometimes even clocking in more than twelve hours so i can give you everything you want in life, so i can take you on that stupid fucking trip to paris and this is what i get when i come home late at night, clearly tired from working all day?”

“bu-but, look, all i am saying is that you don’t have to do it alone. we can save up together,” there was a desperation in your voice, desperation to get out of that predicament; both physically and emotionally.

“baby,” jeongguk’s features softened, his hand coming down to cup your cheek. if you didn’t know better, you would have flinched at the sudden actions, “i hate coming back to an empty house. if you are gone, i would keep thinking about your safety instead of focusing on work. plus, we have bam. he is smitten to you. wanna leave him all alone in this house all day?”

“we can get a trainer or put him in doggy care,” you mumbled, feeling the back of his fingers caressing your cheek.

“would you be able to do that? leave him off at doggy care? you won’t miss him for a second?” he leaned, resting his forehead gently against yours.

“i would miss him but we both would get used to it,” you tried to reason, looking up at him.

“mm? please, don’t go. i really don’t want to come back to an empty house. i have done it for years but ever since you have walked into this house, i just cannot even imagine that. i swear worrying over you would be the death of me. can you please do this for me? please stay back,” his doe-eyes burned through your eyes — his gaze was not sharp, rather quite gentle, vulnerable even and you have never seen him so vulnerable, so close to you.

being unable to refuse him in such a state, you nodded slowly — earning a kiss on the forehead before he spanked your ass, pushing you towards the shared bedroom.

“go ahead, i will change and join you,” your husband smiled at you, before winking in your direction.

︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶༉‧₊˚.  

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