#WARM COLORS FAMILY MY BELOVEDS MY LOVES FOREVER & EVER | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

dojimakaichou · 1 year

Text

SENT FROM @stingslikeabee ― ( unprompted / always accepting )

“First snow, my love,” Melissa murmured while getting comfortable in the hold provided by the assassin’s arms; there was no other place she enjoyed being that could ever surpass the delightful warmth and security provided by her husband’s embrace. The witch’s back was pressed against his torso, their arms resting over her middle - a gestured repeated to exhaustion during their time together and particularly when a new spiderling was on their way. But now, it wasn’t really the case - all their children were healthy and growing up well, but the end of the year was always a moment of fondness for Melissa. Seeing the snow falling and coloring their gardens and graveyard white was rather magical - the pristine cover made for a gorgeous canvas for the experiments of their offspring, and both Addamses encouraged their children to play and splash pig’s blood over the frozen grass to their heart’s content; the triplets, in special, did wonderful designs of doom and mayhem that warmed Melissa’s soul. But it also symbolized the fact that Daigo would have a birthday soon enough, as well as their oldest soon; just a week separated her husband from Kazuya, but despite their shared appearances, their first-born really did not enjoy the exuberant festivities that the family put together for their siblings. “It reminds me that you’ll soon grow older and that I’ll be fortunate to have spent one more year by your side.” Turning in his hold, Melissa gently placed her hands on each of Daigo’s shoulders, looking up at him - no matter how many years went by, he still was the most impossible handsome creature on all of Earth; his eyes were as black as her favorite scorpions but with a shine not unlike her pendants crafted out of obsidian. It was a bottomless pit of eternal adoration and the witch wouldn’t mind falling victim to their enchantments forever, frozen in place and in his arms. “What do you want to do for your celebrations, my love? I should start preparing earlier if you’d like to have another session with the children at the torture dungeon; some of the machines fell into disrepair after the girls used them for unsuitable animals,” she sighed softly, recalling that family night - it had been so glorious, the room filled with laughter and the best of the moods among the entire family. Melissa moved to stand on the tip of her toes then, pressing crimson lips against his in a delicate kiss before smiling into the gesture. “I do have a little something of my own in the workings. A new poison, like every year - I’m hoping this one will give you paralysis but allow you consciousness so you can watch me rewarding you, chéri.”

★. ―

Daigo spied his wife at one of the grand windows that overlooked their sprawling property ― which held remarkably dark grass and dirt ; play fortresses made of real stone the assassin had constructed himself for their children ; gnarled and immense richly - colored willows whose crying branches Melissa liked taking tea and séances under ; and the edge of an old graveyard they inherited with the land. He and Melissa had every intention of being buried there when their time came so that they could remain close to whatever descendants opted to keep this great home for themselves. With a sculpted iron fence, several seating arrangements, and plentiful homes for bees and spiders among the graves, it really was quite the romantic resting - place.

With a soft call of her name, Daigo slid in behind his beloved witch. His arms settled into their familiar place around her. In spite of the chill in the air, his torso was bare ; truthfully, he preferred the cool temperature on his skin. Daigo’s scars tightened miserably in the winter, and he would rather embrace the snaking marks ( some hidden by his intricate bee and honeycomb tattoos ) than hide them. Besides, his wife enjoyed playing with the sensitive mementos from his old life. ― and there was nothing he would ever deny her.

Daigo nestled into the witch, lips grazing over her shoulder. He gave her plenty of time to speak first, unsure if he would disturb a vision or a visit from another world if he took the initiative. At her words, the assassin looked up. The snowflakes outside hadn’t even crossed his mind. She called to him so much more strongly.

“It is,” he confirmed. His fingers stroked her stomach reflexively. Though several years had passed since the last time her womb was full, he found himself still often lavishing her middle with attention. Perhaps it was his way of expressing gratitude for the many spiderlings that grew there at the beginning of their marriage.

Daigo smiled slightly at the mention of his birthday. He was aging very gracefully ― if not for his gray tresses, it would be difficult to guess how old he was ― thanks to his mother’s genes ( as her ghost liked to remind his wife ). The assassin pressed a kiss to Melissa’s throat before she began to turn in his arms. Daigo made no motion to stop her. His palms splayed out over her spine comfortably, fully embracing her beautiful figure.

Melissa stole his breath from the moment she looked up at him like that. His heart twisted fiercely at the sight of her. The witch’s easy elegance only added to her natural charm, and Daigo’s serene expression deepened as her hands came up. He welcomed any opportunity for her to ensnare him like this.

Recalling their family’s antics caused the assassin to laugh. Daigo squeezed her, grinning at the fond memories. Her kiss he accepted with the faintest whimper. It was impossible to hide how amazing that sounded.

“We haven’t had a proper hunt for all of the children yet,” he said after a moment of consideration. “Do you remember, Melissa? Prior to girls’ arrival, we set the older ones loose with the challenge to draw my blood. Yayoi loved it. Little Edgar was begging to play from your arms, so inevitably you came for me, as well. I’ll never forget the sight of you and our sweet spawn combing the grounds together.”

Daigo leaned in closer, drinking in the sight of her. He hated to be far. “Can you imagine it for my birthday? Our brood out there in the snow with their favorite toys. Kazuya and the twins may use their magic, if they wish ; Hikari’s pink familiar would come in handy, no doubt. Edgar has learned some intriguing acrobatics from my brother . . . ” Daigo’s thoughts drifted away from him. It was clear the idea of the game had taken firm root in his mind.

Eventually, however, the assassin returned to the present. He suddenly brought their mouths together, fingertips gripping the back of her dress. Daigo let the embrace linger : slow, loving, savoring the taste of the woman he couldn’t possibly live without. At the end of it, his lungs felt fit to burst. Melissa’s suggestion for their private celebration seemed to have caught the assassin’s imagination spinning.

“If you have any . . . tests of that poison for my fiftieth that need done,” Daigo murmured, “I certainly know of a willing subject.” He couldn’t help the gleam of desire in his eyes as he regarded her, touch sinking to her lower back. The assassin chuckled. “You spoil me terribly, you know.”

#ooc. I LOVE. THIS AU. SO FRICKING MUCH.#stingslikeabee #torture tw #animal torture tw #blood tw #violence tw #⤿ IC. ✕ ANSWERED #⤿ VERSE. ✕ ADDAMS FAMILY 01 ✕ FATHER OF SPIDERS #⤿ ❤. ✕ WORLD ✕ MELISSA & DAIGO

2 notes · View notes

annathesillyfriend · 3 years

Text

Anna's August Fic Recs

Welcome to my August fic recommendations masterpost!! This has been quite a busy month for me but I'm holding onto last weeks of freedom. I am trying to read as much before uni starts and I had a pleasure of reading some brilliant fics this month. I am so excited to share them with you all! I hope your summer is going amazing and to those, who have just started classes - good luck!

To all the writers - I love you and I appreciate you so much!

To all the readers - please, share the fics you read and love. The reblog really makes the change! It’s the least we can do to show our gratitude.

HOLLAND & Co.

✨ Tom Holland

revenges is sweet by @t-lostinworlds

series, social media au, college!au, football player!tom, fake dating, idiots to lovers, all of our fave tropes, i am invested in this series more than i am in my own life, it's just that good

sunkissed by @duskholland

one-shot, 18+, surfer!tom x lifeguard!tom, exes to lovers, h's great mind at its finest 👏

souvenirs of the heart by @veryholland

one-shot, brought me to tears no joke, such a beutiful story, mila did such an amazing job!!

heartbreak girl by @lauras-collection

one-shot, 18+, lead singer!tom, based on 5SOS song, this is so goooood 😫😫 this story lives in my heart rent free right nextdoor to laura!!

act 1: scene 5 and 6 by @youandtom

one-shot, best friends to lovers, helping tom with learning lines, i loved this very much!

happier than ever by @vendettaparker

one-shot, tom being the great lad he is comes to save an awful date and we stan

the trial of the eldest holland by @reawritesthings

one-shot, ex!tom, welcome to the angst town! this is so deeply heartbreaking but so beautifully written!

lucky to be in love by @hollandsvogue

one-shot, rose is going staright for my silly little heart :')

slide in by @uglypastels

one-shot, frat!tom, i fall in love with this story time and time again

white winged dove by @muhollands

one-shot, 18+, conuntry!tom, insert country boy i love you vine here (also, i'd like to take this moment to kindly invite you all to go through d's whole masterlist cause it's brilliant. this mj blurb has sent me straight to hell but it's so worth it)

abide by @hazofmyheart

one-shot, 18+, mob!au, tom x reader x harrison, this made me feel some type of way 👁👄👁

getting ahead of ourselves by @/hazofmyheart

one-shot, 18+, college! lacrosse player!tom holland x tutor!reader, this is soft, this is cute, this is hot, this is everything! 12/10 would recommend

✨ Harrison Osterfield

little lune by @dovenymph

one-shot, celebrating your birthday with haz, made me want a refund for my birthday cause it's so lovely 🥺🥺

it will come back by @greenorangevioletgrass

one-shot, part of the rich kid!au series, 18+, richkid!haz x richkid!reader x actor!tom, there are no words in any language that would let me express how much i love ava and this au

✨ Harry Holland

wild side by @softholand

one-shot, 18+, best friends to lovers, that trope was made to be written about mister harry holland, i swear

lost in your light by @spider-barnes

one-shot, 18+, best friends to lovers, bloody lovely 💛

falling in love at a coffee shop by @/spider-barnes

one-shot, college!au, oh to fall in love with harry holland at a coffee shop 😫

hope is frightening thing by @peterplanet

one-shot, writer!reader x first da!harry, her book gets a film adaptation and harry is being is wonderful self 🥰

my forever by @unsaidholland

blurb, talking about your future with him, it's just 🥰🥰

circles by @farfromharry

one-shot, rich kid!au, enemies to lovers, so wonderful!

MARVEL

🎂 Suz's birthday fics

this total babe @samwilsons-pillowpecs gave us four beautiful gift on her birthday! we adore you, lovely 🥰 these stories are all wonderful anddeserve their own category 💛

you're the glitter in the dark

one-shot, 18+, mob!bucky

if i could touch you...

one-shot, 18+, boxer!steve

love you in a thousand ways

one-shot, 18+, ceo!sam

miss your kiss

one-shot, 18+, biker!thor

🎂@rodrikstark ’s 1.5k follower celebration!

collecion of headcanons with our favourite marvel boys as well as some other characters, i bloody love them all but my numer one has got to be joaquin teaching you spanish 😌

✨ Sam Wilson

book smart by @indyluckycharlie

one-shot, librarian!sam x PhD student!reader, such a warm and comfy little story by my dearest cate who i love very much 😌

he we go again by @/xbuchananbarnes

one-shot, idiots in love 🥰🥰

adventures in babysitting captain america and winter solider by @princessmisery666

one-shot, reader takes the boys to disneyland and it's just so amazing!

stay awhile by @lacapucharoja

one-shot, black!reader, a saturday morning with sam 😌😌

slow motion by @ambrosiase

one-shot, 18+, sam in baggy grey sweatpants and no underwear, need i say more?

✨ Steve Rogers

bullies, bullied by @anika-ann

one-shot, my main babe is blessing us with protective steve and i love her 🥰

there's a peace in dreaming by @babycap

one-shot, i don't have the words to tell you how stunning this story is, please go read it

✨ Bucky Barnes

timer by @xbuchananbarnes

series, soulmate!au based on the movie TiMER (2009). i could go on and on about how incredible that series is but with dani it's a given, sooo 🤷‍♀️

the kids will be alright by @imaginationintowords

series, social media au, lawyer!bucky x interior designer!reader, single dad!bucky, single mom!reader raising their kid together as friends, also reader x clark kent. honestly this is one of my fave social media aus of all time. and it's got a sequel is coming!!

quick fix by @ocean-bucky

one-shot, tfatws!bucky x ofc, vidra is the queen of ofc's, you simply can't not love her characters!

grant (part 2) by @coffeecatsandsarcasm

two-shot, bucky's in a relationship with a single mom with a little boy, it's so soft, i love this little family!

before sunset, i fell by @buckysbiota

one-shot, modern!au, when i get drunk i get myself cake, when reader got drunk, she got herself a husband. a very fine husband 😏

alcohol you later by @/xbuchananbarnes

one-shot, is it the 4th of dani's fics on this list? yes, she's just that powerful

three flags up by @starbuckie

one-shot, 18+, campcounselor!bucky x campcounselor!reader, best friends to lovers, buck being a cute little puppy in love and i adore him very much

and he kissed me right there by @sunmoonandbucky

one-shot, veteran!bucky, age gap, this is so full of feelings and it's gonna steal your heart!

lost and found by @sunshinebuckybarnes

two-shot, neighbour!bucky, alpine being the matchmaker of the year and we love that for her

hazy dreams and good mornings by @angrythingstarlight

one-shot, 18+, firefighter!bucky, i think that's enough encouragement to read this gem 😏

✨ Joaquin Torres

red by @remmysbounty

one-shot, a truly exceptional story!!

hold my words, keep us together by @/xbuchananbarnes

one-shot, soulmate!au, just simply stunning!

✨Peter Parker

love lies by @rosyparkers

series, social media au, y/n is silk but peter doesn't know it, peter is spiderman but y/n doesn't know it, sarah is the brightest star in the universe and everyone knows it

sunset lovers by @duskholland

one-shot, college! au, soulmate!au where what your soulmate writes on their skin, appears on yours. i don't think i have to tell you that eveything written by h, my beloved is pure gold. the softest thing!

always waiting (for you to come home) by @peterbenjiparker

one-shot, reader comes to peter cause she needs him to patch her up after patrol, it's so funny and sweet and i just love it so much, m is the bestest!!

perfectly a little late by @/t-lostinworlds

one-shot, college!au, reader forgets about peter's birthday. or does she 👀 please, give a round of applause for this wonderful writer who's been feeding us so well this month 👏👏

this fic by @peeterparkr

one-shot, last kiss with peter :') nancy knows all the most beautiful ways to break someone's heart

the plan by @spideyyeet

series, aveneger!reader, reader likes peter, peter likes mj, mysterio shows up, lots of angsty things happen. it's so bloody good, my mates, go read it!!

burning red by @spideyspeaches

one-shot, avenger!reader who who describes people's personalities as colors, it's just a stunning story with wonderful writing and i love it!!

this fic by @mcumendes

blurb, peter brings y/n flowers and is very very adorable!!

kiss me more by @celestialholland

one-shot, first make out with peter and i'm just 😫😫 in love

the reveal by @cloudybarnes

one-shot, best friends!reader where she finds out about him being spiderman, so lovely!!

always by @ptersmj

one-shot, an absolutely adorable best friends to lovers moment

red-handed by @/vendettaparker

one-shot, stark!reader, morgan interrupts y/n and peter's alone time 😏😂

OTHERS

✨ Spencer Reid

as told by flowers by @reidingmelodies

one-shot, story about the progress of the relationship with spencer told by flowers (duh 😂), it's just wonderful!!

✨ Frank Adler

thnks fr th mmrs by @wiypt-writes

one-shot, 18+, reader goes to frank the night before his wedding, i love this with everything i have

will you hold on my love by @writerwrites

one-shot, don't come anywhere near this piece without tissues!!

✨ Ransom Drysdale

undercover boss by @chase-your-dreams-away

series, reader's working at drysdales' company and hooks up with ransom not knowing who he is. this series is so bloody good! i love the reader in here so much!!

a/n: if you catch some kind of mistake or if you see that i miscredited someone - please let me know so i can change that!

#anna's fic recs #august fic recs #fic recs #marvel fic recs #tom holland x reader #harrison osterfield x reader #harry holland x reader #sam wilson x reader #bucky barnes x reader #steve rogers x reader

434 notes · View notes

inupibaldspot · 3 years

Text

Our Snowfall

Pairing: Baji x Reader

Request: OPEN

Note: I cried writing this I’m in so much pain rn 😭

Baji slowly opened the door,revealing room of white color, with faint sent of medicines and anti-septic's.

Earlier he was playing catch with Mikey outside, but Mikey wanting to show off threw the ball too hard making the ball zoom across the sky as it breaks the window to a hospital room.

Baji was about to shout at Mikey only to find the blonde boy had disappeared without a trace. And now Baji was on a mission to get his ball back.

“I’m sorry for breaking your window.” Baji bows his head from the door.

“Don’t worry about it.”

Baji blinked in confusion. The voice was that of a young child and not an adult like he was expecting. He raises his head to see a small figure ,who looked really weak.

The person smiled. “The ball is on the table there. It would be best if you left before nurse comes back.”

Baji nods as he walks in and takes the ball. He notices that the broken glasses pieces were already picked up and clean.

Baji turns to look at you. “My name is Baji Keisuke. What is yours?”

Your lips curl into a weak smile. “My name is Y/N…”

Baji walks towards you. “Are you sick,Y/N?” His expression was somewhat worried.

You nod. “I’ve been here forever.” You laugh. “Mama told me I can’t go outside because I get sick easily so I stay at the hospital so Mr. Doctor can help me…”

Baji frowned. He was always an active kid who spend most of his time playing around so when he heard that you don’t get to go outside,it made him sad. “Is it okay if I visit you sometime.”

Your eyes widens as color appears on your cheeks,you then smiled brightly. “I would love that!”

True to his words,Baji immediately visited you the next day.

Ever since Baji entered your life,your life has been full of colors. Baji would always talk about how he spend his day,he would talk about his friends and all the crazy thing they would do.

He would always visit you,never making you feel lonely. Along the way he even introduced some of his friends. First he brought Mikey along and then the next Mitsuya and Pachin.

You were scared at first when Baji said they were in gangs but when you got to know them,they were just dorks,lovable and funny dorks.

“I heard this time we are going to have a white Christmas.” You said as you looked outside.

Baji who was cutting apples for you, stopped as he looks at you. “Are you going to be with your parents?”

You shook your head. “Both my mom and dad are going to be busy with work so they said we can’t celebrate it with me this time.”

You smiled as you turned to look at Baji. “But the nurses said they’re going to set up a Christmas tree so I’m excited!”

Baji looks at how your eyes brightened when you talked about the Christmas tree. You looked so happy talking about and that made you seem so much beautiful.

“I’m sure it would look so pretty-“ Your words came to a halt when you started coughing. The coughing never seemed to die down making Baji rush to your side and when it finally did,there were blood in your hands. He looked at you in horror but you didn’t seem to panic,rather you looked as if you were think ‘Not this again.’ As if this happened regularly.

“I’ll get the doctor real quick!” With that he rushes away.

…….

To your dismay the Christmas tree was smaller than expected but nevertheless you enjoyed the cake your parents ordered for you,you ended up eating them with the grandma next door.

Maybe it was because you weren’t with Baji today,the day felt bit gloomier even-though it was such a joyous day. You missed Baji.

Just when you were about to sleep,tiny knocks were heard at your door. “Psttt, Y/N.”

You look at the door confused. “Baji what are you doing here?”

Before you knew it,Baji makes you wear a thick jacket and cover your neck with a muffler not answering your question.The wide grin on his face perked your curiosity more.

He then kneels in front of you,his back facing you. “Get on!”

“Huh?”

Baji turns to you and he gives you a grin. “I’m going to show you a huge Christmas tree.”

Baji and you then sneak out of the hospital as he carries you to the main town. You gleam at how beautifully the place was decorated. The air outside was cold but it was so fresh, so much frsh as compared to the air in your hospital room.

“It started snowing!” You shouted excited as you raised one of you hand to try and hold it,only for it to melt as soon as it touches you. “The report was right! We’re having a white Christmas!” It was your first time actually being outside when it was snowing, normally you'd only watch the snow from inside.

Places were beautifully lit, decorated with lights filled with joyful atmosphere. Some with their family others on dates. As people start to stare at the sky taking in the entrance of the snow.

“We’re here!” Baji stops walking as he nudges his head at a particular direction.

There at a distance was a huge Christmas tree, decorated with fairy lights, colorful bulbs and small other decorations. “Wow…”

“Beautiful isn’t it-“ Baji stopped speaking as he looked at your expression. Your eyes gleamed as it shone,from all the lights, you nose and cheeks slightly flushed from cold but the most beautiful part was your smile.

You burrowed you face against Baji’s neck,making him feel ticklish but he didn’t mind it rather he love it. “Thank you Keisuke …” He could feel your breath against his neck.

“I’m so glad I could spend the Christmas with you…”

……

“I hate school!” Baji shouts as he messes his hair in frustration. “I don’t know why I have to study this bull shit!” Baji was currently in you room as he worked on his homework while you were reading a book. A pleasant way you guys would spend your time together. It has almost been two years since you guys met.

You laugh at Baji’s expression as you set down the book you were reading. “Come on now~ Don’t say that..I think school must be fun.”

Baji stops as he realizes what he did. You were someone who could never join school after multiple incidents of you passing out or getting rushed to hospitals when you were a kid.

You couldn’t experience school like he did. Baji huffs as he goes back to his books. “Fine… I’ll aim for twenty marks this time.”

“Twenty? That’s not even the pass mark.” You laugh at him. “How about you go for thirty at least.”

“Thats not the pass mark either, Y/N!“

You were about to say something when a sudden thought came into mind. “Keisuke … I actually was watching tv yesterday and I saw someone making a pumpkin themed cake…”

“So I thought I’d want to eat that but I don’t think I can complete it by myself. So how about you join me…?” Your cheeks flushed red.

You were basically asking him out on a date.Sure you guys spend time together alone but you never once made an offer like this to him. It has been months since you figured out you had feelings so Baji but you never really acted on it.

Since the thought of you getting rejected and in turn losing a beloved friend scared you to no end.

“Sure!” You turned your head quickly at his reply. Baji was smiling as well as he continued. “When would it be?”

You smile as you brought your hands together, excited. “I was thinking of October 31..”

“Ah… I don’t think I can join you then…” Baji replied regretfully. “How about November 1?”

“Sure!” As long as you could spend time with Baji, you were happy.

But then that day never came.

That day you waited for Baji to enter the room,with an untouched cake box on the table. The door opens to reveal Mikey,Draken and Mitsuya.

“Baji…Baji died during our fight against Valhalla …”

Would it be funny if you said you ate the cake while you cried? Probably,but that’s what you actually did. Stuffing you mouth with the soft creamy treat as tears pool you eyes.

Days after were as if a curtain closed closed your window, everything felt so much dim and it didn’t help that your condition seemed to worsen.

You were losing weight at an alarming rate,coughing up more blood at frequent rates. You grew increasingly weaker as you parents even took time off their jobs to nurse you.

But at certain nights you would wake up in tears,as you could barely breathe as you searched for Baji,hoping to see him with you in the room. “Keisuke…”

It was a peaceful winter evening ,the air was cold and places were quiet as white snow gently falls in the ground.

People outside were looking and hoping that the snow would set properly. Kids were already outside as they excitedly play out, parents in their homes were making food to warm themselves up.

“Stay with me Y/N!”

People were rushing all over the room as you dad hold your crying mom.

You head felt as if it was going to burst,a strong sense of nausea filled you. Everything you hear and see seemed so muffled and blur.

Despite you body feeling limp, it was twitching. You breathing which was rapid at first seemed to now slow down,accompanied with a strong aching pain.

Then suddenly all those suffering at once disappear.

You entered into a white place,as if each and every part was covered in snow.Your body felt light with no presence of pain that you were feeling just a second before.

You walked around too see that in a distance was a very familiar person.A person who made you life so much brighter. A person who you enjoyed every moment spend with him. A person you loved.

That person turns around as he expression turns into a frown.

“Why did you join me so early?”

You smile as a tear rolls down your face. “I guess I missed you too much,Keisuke.”

#baji scenarios #tokyo revengers #tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo revengers imagine #baji imagine #baji headcanons #baji x reader #baji #Baji Keisuke

382 notes · View notes

dear-yandere · 3 years

Text

& just drown with me.

yandere! beidou x reader. general headcanons. tw: kidnapping, implied dubcon. disclaimer: this is not a healthy relationship.

art belongs to jay ash (pixiv).

“come out, come out to the sea, my love and just drown with me...”

beidou is...

reverent, delusional, honest, lenient (RDHL) + doting, protective, clingy

— reverent is she the moment she sets eyes on you, her heart skips a beat. she doesn’t mince words or skirt along bushes; she’s enamored the moment she sees you, and she ensures that you’re well aware of her attraction. you’re quick to pick up that she is terribly handsy—and perhaps a little touch-starved—especially when it comes to you. her hands are on you at all times, sometimes friendly, sometimes on the cusp of something more.

she wants to hold you close and never let go, she knows that much. you’re just so frail, so easy to break if the slightest wind were to brush your sides a little too harshly. in contrast, she’s strong beyond compare, able to best sea beasts and part mountains with only her sword; and yet, gentleness is not lost on her. she takes extra care in handling you, beyond scared that you’ll break apart between her fingers if she’s the slightest bit too rough.

and letting go quickly becomes difficult.

she likes feeling your skin against hers. your hand entangled with hers, your fingers delicate and unused to combat; she is forever fascinated by the soft swell of your palm, the way your hand looks as if it can hardly hold itself against the world. your skin is devoid of callouses and tears unlike her own which carries the sword as big as her stature. your hair’s disheveled and knotty, and your clothes carelessly strewn across the floor. she likes you best this way; completely without covers, so that she may take you in to your fullest, so that she may hold all of you within her grasp and never let go. her fingers are always wrapped around your waist, lips pressing kisses onto your head.

you are a treasure beyond compare.

— her thinking, you soon come to learn, lies upon the border of delusion, and yet her eyes hold an assurity when they look at you. you’re never allowed off her ship unsupervised. the decision was quick and painless, her voice doubtless and her intentions clear as the sea. she wants to flaunt you by her side, as she enjoys the way your body will grow warm with embarrassment when she walks into town with a pretty little thing by her side. pirates are known for their nonchalant approach to life, so for the great captain of the crux to show up in public with anything—or anyone—by her side apart from her trusty claymore is a curious sight. captain beidou isn’t known for her ability to settle in one place or with one person; the sea’s always been her true calling, after all. but to see her fingers gently settle on your shoulder as she pulls you close, the smirk on her reddened lips will quickly twist into a full-blown grin as the crowd she’s drawn erupts into cheers.

you know better than to make a scene in front of these people—people who look up to captain beidou, people who wouldn’t take you seriously if you explained the way she keeps you captive on her ship. you’re nothing more than a victim, you’ll say to them, and they’ll only laugh you off with a wave of their hand, certain this whole charade is some roundabout way for beidou to entertain herself. the sea must drive a man delirious, after all. no one can fault her.

and for that reason, no one can believe your pleads.

beidou is a free spirit enamored by the call of adventure, and yet her actions are anything but.

— dishonesty is something beidou hasn’t the time nor patience for. her words hold no lie when directed at anyone, but especially when directed at you. she couldn’t dream of lying to you—and she has, unfortunately. the moment she woke up from that terrible dream was the moment she shook you awake to apologize profusely, even if the language was colored with her own vulgar vernacular. yes... she apologized for a futile little lie she told in a dream.

dishonesty simply isn’t on the table.

she goes to great lengths to explain her day to you, taking the utmost care to not leave the slightest detail out. the main reason being her guilty conscience, really. there’s not much to do cooped up on a musty ship cabin—even if her quarters are decked out to the nines just for your liking. you weren’t keen on the idea at first, feeling more like a child being told stories before bedtime, rather than a fellow sailor and her beloved first mate. but her eyes will light up all the same, and she’ll tell you of her day and the new things she’s seen as if you were right there with her. you quickly learn to nod along and acknowledge her every so often, as the only alternative is to mope around in her cabin or on the deck—the few times she’ll let you accompany her out there. there’s only so many thoughts to think by yourself, and at some point, you grow to look forward to these fantastical stories every night.

— she doesn’t know fear—freedoms are yours for the choosing if you’re brave enough to set your sights on them. lenient and all too unfussed by the chance you’ll make it any further than the twenty feet from her person at all times, she’s well aware you won’t make it rather far. you wouldn’t call it much in the way of “freedom” really—and you start to envy the citizens of the ever-free mondstadt a few regions over. all freedoms are your for the taking; that is, all freedoms except a dismissal from her side. it’s where any good luck charm belongs, she’ll laugh and plant a wet kiss atop your lips. her good luck charm... she doesn’t need luck—not with strength rivaling a god’s—and yet she refuses to go anywhere without you close behind.

it’s no surprise that her crew had once joked that you follow her around like a lost seadog—unaware that you do so per her directions—only for the poor lads to regret ever having said anything. their captain’s eyes are dark when she pipes up behind them.

“haven’t you got better jobs to do than mess with my lass?” she jeers, that usual smirk not quite reaching her eyes. from your position behind the crew—the men now all lined up in terror before the captain of the crux—even you start to break into sweat. it’s clear from her tone that she’s irritated, and the fact she’s clutching onto her claymore as if its the anchor on her anger scares even you.

they were poking fun at you only moments ago, and now you can’t help but feel sorry for them.

“i’ll let you off the hook ‘cause you’re my dear brothers.“ despite her clemency, her expression tightens and not one man dares to let his tense muscles relax. “but i’ll only say this once, lads.” she explains, stepping down from the raised deck to saunter over to your side. all eyes turn to you two, a pair they’ve grown used to seeing day in and day out. beidou slings her arm around your shoulders, the curves of her body pressing into yours perfectly. “this here is my first mate; a jab at them is no better than a jab at me. the next time i hear a jab at them, i’ll do far worse than have you swimming with the fishes.”

— she loves drinking with you by her side, even if you can’t hold liquor down to save your life. her cheeks are quick to flush shades of pinks and reds, and you can never stop yourself from staring in awe, even when she slings an arm around your waist and pulls you close. her lips catch yours as if they belong there, a puzzle piece filled by its other half. her kisses are a hazy fire, fiercely warm and dangerously untamed; they always taste like strong beer, the beverage steeped in various spices that sit nicely on her lips.

you only wish she wouldn’t do so in public. her boisterous laughter and charisma draws the attention of the tavern-goers, most of whom know better than to interrupt beidou when she’s chugging down jugs of alcohol. her crew doesn’t mind the sight, nor do they mind your presence at the table—though, it’s not like they have much of a choice in protesting; although they don’t fully recognize you as a bonafide crew member of the alcor, it’s clear that captain beidou has something of a sweet spot for you.

still, they feel like they’re witnessing something they shouldn’t when she captures your lips with hers, her fingers drunkenly playing with the thin strap keeping your outfit intact.

— captain beidou carries her heart on her sleeves and her riches in each hand. riches and spoils are fully within your grasp at all times, sometimes to the point of annoyance when she insists on adorning you with a piece of jewelry she picked up at port. ‘it reminded me of you, s’all,’ she’ll laugh sheepishly, already unclasping the necklace to set it around your neck. ‘wear it and think of me, yea?’

it’s an order more than a romantic sentiment; you have no choice but to think of her at all times.

it’s only when you learn of her past that you come to understand her near-obsession with providing you with the best of the best. from the moment she opened her eyes as a newborn, her life had been mired by misfortune, as if the gods themselves were curious how long she’d survive a life of ordeals. as confident as she is now, you would’ve never guess that beneath the surface, she is forever humbled by her past. having grown up in a family with little money and even less to eat, she was to pick up on the way of thieves, learning the schedules and habits of merchants at the local market so that she could swoop in to steal fruits and veggies from their unattended stands.

“don’t worry about it too much, lass; me telling you such stories is merely for your amusement,” she’ll laugh as she explains this to you, sparing you the grisly details of starvation and malaise. she doesn’t tell you how her skin would cling to her ribs for years on end, hanging from her skeleton as if life had given up on it. she’s been on hard times for most of her life, and yet the only side you ever see is the one blessed by fortune and power.

“life and i have never gotten along, so i had to climb my way up in this world.” her tone is cheerful; you see right through it. “my life’s been tough, i’ll admit that much, but i have no intention of making you live through that too.”

— as much as she tries to run from it, she cannot outsail truth. as much as she’d prefer to keep you on her ship—where she can keep an eye on you, where you’re always free to join her in her quest for adventure and thrill—she’s aware that all things must come to an end; even the sea has an edge and an end.

this is just one of them.

“hey... if you really don’t want to be here, i won’t stop you. it’s your choice, and whatever you decide is set in stone. i can’t change that no matter how hard i try, but... could you do me a favor?... just, could you at least give me a chance?

i don’t like overstepping my boundaries where i’m not needed, but this is all i’ll ask of you. think long and hard about your decision. what you decide is up to you—and if you’re set on the idea, i’ll let you leave, no repercussions. sound like a deal?”

bonus.

— she isn’t herself at night. gone is the boisterous laughter that could raise the hair on a man’s arms. gone is the domineering aura she carries like a shield, its front aimed at a world that tries to hold her down. she craves adventure, but the moment night falls and she pulls you into the cot with her, she’s out like a light. the only time you manage to catch yourself every day is when she’s by your side rather than the other way around, her person quiet and gently breathing the sea-stained air.

the ship creaks, and you can hear it clear as night now that the crew is snuggled into their cabins and warm cots, and now that their even-louder captain has fallen asleep. you can finally hear your own thoughts. you have much to think about, having been spirited away to “adventure” against your will... and yet you only think of her.

you turn on your side and settle your weary eyes on your lover. her features are no longer sharp, no longer laden with the responsibility of power and might. nestled between a lavish blanket and the warmth of your body, she is no longer a paragon of otherwordly strength; she’s just human. this is just another side of the captain, just another beidou intended only for your eyes.

and it’s in these quiet moments that you realize you’re in love.

#yandere genshin impact #yandere genshin impact x reader #yandere beidou x reader #yandere beidou #beidou x reader #genshin impact x reader #*headcanons #tw kidnapping #tw dubcon #genshin impact #beidou #[ really hope she isnt ooc ]#[ i havent even met her yet smh .. . im bobo the clown ]

555 notes · View notes

sjhanny2000 · 3 years

Text

Secrets Worth Sharing

A/N: Hey y'all! This is my first Naruto fanfic, which I've also posted on Archive of Our Own. Please be kind and enjoy!

Warning(s): Minor character death, angst, hurt/comfort, intersex characters, arranged marriage, talks/thoughts about abortion/miscarriage

~~~~

Tobirama Senju was a man of many secrets. Well, more like a man that highly values his own privacy and is not as open as other individuals (like his easy-trusting older brother for example). He was not given the privilege of being open with his truths and feelings, having been groomed from birth to be a heartless shinobi who did not allow his emotions to interfere with his performance. His father had been harsh with these facts whilst training and out on the battlefield, blunt and uncaring that Tobirama and his brothers were children and children had no place amongst the battlefield and shouldn’t be expected to take a life without a bat of an eye. Kawarama had only been seven when he was ripped away from this world, so young and full of life, and it had taken everything in Tobirama’s small, lanky eleven pre-pubescent form to not break down much like his elder brother had, to feel such unbridled emotion his surviving otouto had felt. Itama’s death only a year later (sweet, innocent, and healing Itama) wrung him dry of tears, of allowing himself to be so vulnerable when it came to loss because to die ‘in battle was honorable’, at least that’s what their father had said as dirt was piled atop of his otouto’s grave to the right of Kawarama’s. He fought with every fiber of his being to protect what little family he had left, taking hits meant for Hashirama and saving Toka from debilitating blows, creating new jutsus, and putting the needs and feelings of others before his own because he wasn’t supposed to feel, shinobi don’t feel-.

Then, as he stood dutifully beside his anija opposite the Uchiha heirs amongst their fellow clansmen, Tobirama couldn’t help but feel. Moments before he had nearly stolen the life of one Izuna Uchiha and as adrenaline and tension crossed through his ever lanky yet muscular form, the conversation mingling between the opposing clans made his heart thumped against his chest as the two clan heads agreed to peace. Hope fluttered dangerously in his chest as his wine colored orbs searched Madara’s half hidden profile, gazing at those pools of obsidian with caution and reluctance whilst trying to determine whether the Uchiha was speaking truth when he offered his hand in establishing between through blood soaked clans. The time following the mutual surrender of the Senju and Uchiha, of Hashirama and Madara finally obtaining the means of support to create the peace they had dreamed of from a young age as they were forced to bury clansmen and young brothers, was a whirlwind of events, filled with peace talks, negotiations, and making sure his anija did not make a fool of himself. He waited for the other shoe to drop as each party laid out the final agreements, for this foolish dream of peace between the two rivals to come to an end before he began to believe it was true, and much to his surprise and his other clansmen (including his far too optimistic elder brother), the Uchiha set a requirement for concession.

“A Senju heir must marry one of ours, as a show of mutual acceptance of these peace agreements and in means of acquiring extra security for our clan.”

By the time this peace talks came to be, Hashirama and Mito had been married for nearly a year already and with the eldest Senju heir already taken and the other two dead and gone, the responsibility of establishing peace, in ending the unnecessary bloodshed between their respective clans, to honor the unneeded deaths of Itama and Kawarama, fell onto Tobirama’s shoulders. Being placed in such a position with no means of escape or replacement had been both suffocating and frustrating but he knew better than to reject the frail olive branch the Uchiha had set before them. Hashirama had tried to reason with Madara, (“Madara, is this really necessary-?”), and before the Uchiha clan head could even think of a response, Tobirama calmly sealed his fate.

“We agree to the terms you lay before us.”

His readied agreeance shocked not only his brother and cousin but floored the Uchiha delegation, particularly one Madara Uchiha who stared at him like he had grown a second head. Many deemed him one of the greatest haters of the Uchiha, having seen his treatment towards the rival clan on and off the battlefield, but Tobirama truly had no firm and enduring hate and ill-will towards the fire natured shinobi. Yes, he felt hate towards the Uchiha that had slaughtered his brothers but it was not directed towards the entirety of the Uchiha; they had been at war and a shinobi did whatever it took to survive or gain an upper hand, even if it meant killing the innocent. He found himself wondering what Kawarama and Itama would be like as he stood there with determination, arms crossed over his chest with finality. Would they be upset at seeing him agree to practically give himself away as a bargaining chip as a means to obtaining peace? Would they beg for there to be another way, to demand the Uchiha change their mind? Sadly, he would never know and that piece of knowing reality only strengthened his resolve.

Hashirama, placed between a rock and a hard place, conceded to giving away his only living brother away as a means of finally having peace and Tobirama watched as dread and reluctance colored his anija’s tar colored eyes. The plans of this arranged marriage were set and Tobirama found himself coming to look eye to eye with his promised husband and obsidian orbs subtly clashed with his pools of merlot, an unspoken bond now tying them together forever. Upon arriving back at the Senju compound, Tobirama found himself subjected to a nearly hysterical Hashirama, his elder brother demanding why, why had Tobirama agreed to such demands, there had to be another way-! Toka, while significantly more in control of her emotions, had similar demands, her main emotions having been anger and frustration (“There is only enough room for one idiot in this family, little cousin, and Hashirama already has that role covered!”) and after dealing with a depressed Hashirama, Tobirama did his best to soothe his cousin's worries. The only calm and rational person aside from Tobirama himself was Mito, his well-collected and commanding sister-in-law swiftly jumping in and knocking some sense into her blubbering husband and seething cousin-in-law and if she told him that she questioned his intelligence as they parted ways for the night, only the gods and the chirping crickets would know.

With the negotiations finished and the bed made and laid in by both parties, the construction of Hashirama and Madara’s dream village began and with it began his forced courtship with the Uchiha clan head. Hashirama, in an attempt to be intimidating, threatened the apathetic Uchiha with bodily harm if he ever came to harm his “precious otouto”, those his threats fell short for numerous reasons, the largest being that the peace treaty prohibited any violence occurring between the clans. Tobirama was swift in reminding his anija of this fact. Madara and his courtship began with a rocky start, as many arranged marriages do (Hashirama and Mito’s being the rare exception), and the need to be open emotionally, to not hide his emotions and to be the mind and voice of reason always was a difficult task. His betrothed also struggled with this reality, to be vulnerable in a world that ate such an open state with murderous glee, and arguments were had and feelings accidentally stepped on. Two emotionally stunted men together was a recipe for disaster and many watched them with bated breaths, for their engagement to fall apart, for the cautious hopes for peace to shatter into millions of pieces before their very eyes. The weight to succeed weighed heavy on Tobirama’s shoulders and as he stood in the middle of Madara and Izuna’s backyard amidst another argument with Madara, copious amounts of rain hailing from above without restraint as frustration and confusion tormented his soul, it finally forced him to collapse. He shouted at the Uchiha standing a mere few feet away from him under the roof of the engawa, tears racing down his marked face as he shouted himself hoarse, one of the worst storms in the region's history unfolding around them. Madara watched him with irritation, a well-made mask of indifference sitting upon his stoic visage, and as Tobirama finally gave up, when he threw the towel in and allow himself to be vulnerable for the first time in years, the Uchiha’s rough lips were suddenly on his own and suddenly his surroundings, his worries, his fears were gone and replaced with warm comfort.

Their relationship became one of truth and openness from that moment forward, the two of them doing their best to establish a balance between themselves, and unknowingly fell in love along the way. By the time the primary building of Konoha had been completed and their wedding date arrived, Tobirama could confidently (and quite fondly, though no one needed to know this at the time) state that he loved Madara Uchiha. As they exchanged their vows before the clans of the village, with Izuna smirking that ugly smirk of his and Hashirama in tears as his poor wife comforted the weeping fool (“He is taking Tobi away from me Mito!”, “Tobirama is not yours beloved, he is a grown man.”) Tobirama gazed at his husband to be with honest hope and heated cheeks. His heart sweetly ached at hearing Madara say “I do”, at knowing without a doubt in his mind that he was now Madara’s and Madara was his, that he had someone in which he could wholly confide his secrets and feelings in, and Tobirama knew he had been blessed well the moment their lips joined, sealing their marital union as those around them cheered and sobbed in the case of his anija. Their marriage, while lovely, of course experienced its own bumps here and there, particularly on matters of legislation and equality within the village, but Tobirama wouldn’t trade it away for the world because a world without Madara at his side was not worth living in.

Yet, as he stared at the white stick resting within his shaking hands, Tobirama feared that the world they had made was going to shatter at any second. Two lines of crimson glared at him with undenying truth, the feeling of an extra, new source of chakra nestled within his own person only confirming the results within his grasp. He had been born as an anomaly not only in appearance but in anatomicalities as well; the midwife had nearly passed out when she caught sight of not only albinism but his newborn self having both male and female genitalia and his father’s reaction hadn’t been much kinder. Few people knew of his condition and those who did typically accepted him no matter his abnormalities, Madara being no exception to that, and as he found himself happily married and being tasked with teaching the up and coming generation, the Senju found the yearning to have children of his own grow with each hair ruffle.

Tobirama knew the likelihood of someone with his condition, rare as it was, being able to carry a child let only father one and had unhappily accepted that he would never be able to have a child of both his and Madara’s making. With this truth in mind, the two of them still practiced safe sex and were content with the moments of parenthood being a mentor allowed them, never feeling compelled to strive for anything more; well, at least, Madara hadn’t shown any interest of having children of their own. Even with their vigilance and cautiousness, they ended slipping up here and there, having drunk too much sake or simply enjoyed feeling one another intimately, flesh to flesh, and now here Tobirama was, standing alone in their shared bathroom, two seconds from imploding as he internally panicked. How could this have happened? They had been so careful! What was Madara going to think?!

Silent, unshed tears threatened to fall down his pale features, the gravity of the situation at hand weighing down on him without any restraint. Madara and he were busy with their village and clan duties, with Tobirama being the advisor to his idiot brother who had been elected hokage somehow, along with being the Uchiha matriarch, and Madara acting as his other advisor and clan head. They had already been married for two years and were financially and emotionally stable as two shinobi could be and would have no trouble affording the costs that came along with having a child. No, Tobirama worried over whether this pregnancy was even viable and if Madara would want the child growing within him. The two of them were happy and content with their childless life, what if Madara only wanted that? He couldn’t give up his child so easily, the chance of having one in itself was a miracle, but he could never imagine living a life without his dark haired Uchiha. This secret was going to be the literal death of him.

*Knock knock*

Soft knocks from the bathroom doorway ripped Tobirama away from his heavy thoughts, the Senju hurried tucking the test into the pocket of his training pants, calling out swiftly, “Enter!”

He was thoroughly relieved when the calm personage of his sister-in-law appeared in the doorway, a look of caution and soft worry conflicting with her beautiful features as she stepped forward, sliding the door closed behind her.

Comforting pools of inky black washed over his form, the Uzumaki princess coming to kneel beside him, “No one saw me enter. It is just us.”

Relief flooded his system once more, a shaky sigh escaping the albino as he ran a hand through his hair for probably the millionth time in that hour alone, “Thank the gods.”

“If I may ask, what is this sudden need for secrecy Tobirama,” Mito questioned calmly, gazing at him with searching eyes. “Has something happened?”

Here goes nothing…

Slowly retrieving the test hidden within his pants pocket, Tobirama shakily deposited it into his sister-in-law’s hands, and if the situation had been different, Tobirama would have revelled in being able to shake Mito into a state of shock as she was now.

The Uzumaki’s now avid attention shifted from the positive pregnancy test to Tobirama, the redhead murmuring with caution, “Are you certain?”

He gave her a weak nod, his nerves growing with each second. “I can sense another source of chakra developing within me. Its size fits with the time frame of the last time Madara and I slept together without protection eight weeks ago.”

“Does Madara know of this,” Mito replied, face growing stoic once more. His lack of an answer had his brother’s wife sighing, placing the test back within Tobirama’s grip, “I see. I figure this pregnancy was neither planned nor expected.”

Tobirama did his best to reign in his fluctuating emotions, the sensor squeezing his eyes shut, “I presumed having a child of our own would never be a reality, considering our circumstances. We have never discussed having children, Mito; what if he does not want to be a father? I-I cannot just dispose of it.”

Mito shifted her form, a comforting hand coming to rest on his shoulder, “While I cannot speak entirely on your husband’s behalf, Tobirama, I know I can say that he would be over the moon to hear you are with child. Madara treasures the clan children, why would he not adore having his own?”

Both he and Madara treasured the children within the Uchiha clan, spending large amounts of time assisting fellow clan members by babysitting their spawn or teaching them various jutsus. Tobirama had often found himself imagining the dark haired children that often swarmed his husband were their children, excited to see their father after a long day. A reality he never thought possible until now.

Pools of wine, shakened with doubt and worry, came to fall upon Mito’s face of comfort and dignity, “How do I even go about telling him? What if he assumes the child is not his?”

She squeezed his shoulder in reassurance, voice smooth as water and warm as midday sun, “He would have to be stupider than he is now to conclude the child within you is the product of adulterous actions, brother. You simply need to be honest with him, just as you always have been; keeping this secret will only complicate things more.”

“Tobirama, I’m home!”

No, no, no, he wasn’t ready, he-!

It was only Mito’s touch that kept Tobirama grounded in that moment of panic, the Uzumaki stating with confidence, “Some things cannot be kept secret Tobirama. Tell him.”

“Tobirama? Is everything alright -?”

Madara’s familiar figure appeared in the bathroom doorway, the Uchiha’s already concerned face only intensifying as he stopped mid sentence, coming to kneel beside Tobirama with worry, “What has happened?”

Standing to her feet with grace, whilst knocking the pregnancy test out of view, Mito greeted the Uchiha clan head with a small smile, “Nothing that will not right itself in time, my friend. Now please excuse me, I promised my husband of mine that I would have his favorite dish prepared for him before he returns.”

Her gaze shifted to Tobirama with skillful ease, stating calmly, “Have faith Tobirama, all will be well.”

With that, the Uzumaki was gone, and the two men were left to themselves, an awkward silence quickly enveloping their persons due to her absence.

It was Madara who spoke first, the Uchiha taking Tobirama’s bare hand in his gloved one, “Are you alright Tobirama?”

Was he alright? He was eight weeks pregnant with a child he was not even sure had been possible until his discovery, one he was not certain that his husband would want. The Senju had numerous duties to fulfill not just as the advisor to the Hokage and as clan matriarch but also as a sensei to his students; he would not be able to assist them in learning for the following months until the child’s subsequent arrival.

Tobirama swallowed the fear attempting to slither up his throat, hand tightening around Madara’s, “Promise me that you will listen to what I have to say before releasing your judgement Madara.”

“What is going? Tobirama-!”

Steeling himself, Tobirama gave his husband a stern glare, “Promise me.”

Madara shifted uneasily in his position beside Tobirama, answering reluctantly, “I promise to listen.”

An agitated sigh left the sensor, Tobirama doing his best to gather his thoughts, “As you know, I have been experiencing fatigue and bouts of sickness these past few weeks. To better understand the reasons behind my condition, I conducted various tests on myself and whilst running these tests, came across a foreign entity within myself.”

His husband stiffened and moved to speak but Tobirama cut him off before a sound could escape him, “Worried that it was unnatural, I began to run more in depth tests to better understand the origin of this foreign entity.”

“In the end, with my symptoms in mind, I conducted a final test to confirm my suspicions. The results have me anxious about your reaction, because it is something I did not think possible of occurring.”

The clan head gazed at him with wariness, fear present in those beautiful pools of midnight black that Tobirama loves to peer into for hours on end, but Madara’s voice is strong with determination, “Whatever it is Tobirama, we will face it together! Hell, that idiot brother of yours will do everything in his power to fix it!”

A frown formed on Tobirama’s face, the sensor retorting quietly, “This is not something that can be healed Madara-.”

“It cannot hurt to at least try,” Madara shouted, his other hand coming to cup Tobirama’s left cheek. “I refuse to let you die laying down you foolish Senju-!”

Chuckling wetly, tears of anxiety and cautious joy blurred his vision, “I am not dying you Uchiha idiot.”

Confliction of relief and confusion waged on Madara’s personage, “You are not? But you said it was unfixable-!”

Tobirama was quick to cut him off, giving the fiery man a firm look, “If you had let me finish before rudely interrupting me, I was going to tell you that the condition I am in cannot be healed but it will fix itself on its own in seven months time you blockhead!”

Black eyes searched his person, clearly scrambling for answers, and the albino groaned in annoyance, “I swear, you can be as dense as my brother at times! I am trying to tell you that I am pregnant, you imbecile!”

Oh kami, what had he done?

Madara froze in his spot beside Tobirama, staring at him with undetectable emotion, and the sensor instantly was sent into a panic at his reaction, “I know we have never officially discussed having children and I know having a child right now while the village is still so young and with us being so busy is not logical but I want to have this child and I will raise it with or without your approval-!”

Rough lips smothering his own cut him off mid-rant, fiery passion burning brightly in the act of intimacy as his husband’s other hand came to cup his right cheek, and after a few moments of quiet, Madara pulled away, joy shining brightly in his tear-blurred eyes, “How could you ever think that I would not want to have a child with the man I love?”

With that, Tobirama fell apart, silent tears rolling down his cheeks as he timidly replied, “A normal man could never do this.“

“Who said I wanted a normal man,” Madara firmly questioned, eyes stern and passionate. “I married a man who is a genius shinobi in his own right, who also happens to have a condition that has gifted us with a chance to have a child of our own flesh when so many others couples dream of such an opportunity!”

“You are not upset,” Tobirama whispered cautiously.

Madara gave him a shining smile and kissed him once more, tears of his own running down his face as his right hand came to rest on the albino’s flat stomach, “I could never be upset over something like this Tobirama. A child is a gift from the gods; I only pray it has your beautiful mind.”

The Senju stifled a sob at the Uchiha’s confession and Madara rested his forehead against Tobirama’s, allowing him to give his husband soft, comforting kisses.

After a few moments, Tobirama was able to reign himself in, giving Madara a small grin, “Hashirama and Izuna are going to be complete nightmares once they learn I am expecting.”

Scoffing, Madara pulled away, though he didn’t move his hand resting on Tobirama’s abdomen, “Those two buffoons are already nightmares in general. All hell will break loose once they hear they will be receiving a niece or nephew within the year.”

A comfortable silence filled the area for a few minutes before Tobirama spoke once more, “I asked that we do not let anyone know of the baby until at least the twelfth week mark, Mito aside of course; I do not want to get anyone excited in case I happen to miscarry.”

“You are not going to miscarry anything,” Madara stated confidently, moving Tobirama to rest his back against his chest whilst other hand came to join his right one. “But I understand your reasoning and agree to wait until you are ready to share this news.”

Tobirama turned his head to look at his husband, murmuring lovingly, “Thank you Madara.”

His husband pecked his lips, replying fondly, “Anything for you, my husband.”

Some secrets were better worth sharing after all.

#madara x tobirama #tobirama senju #team tobirama #headcanon #uchiha madara #senju hashirama #uzumaki mito #naruto #arranged marriage #angst #intersex #fluff #minor character death #izuna uchiha #toka senju #naruto fanfiction #naruto imagines

62 notes · View notes

sailorshadzter · 3 years

Text

coronation day.

The morning of her coronation, she wakes alone.

Shae is there, of course, the only one there so early in the morning, her silent presence offering Sansa comfort and peace. "My lady," she greets as she approaches the bedside, dressing robe in hand; in this moment of privacy, Shae addresses her as she always has for what certainly will be the last time. When she's risen from the bed and her robe in place, Shae ushers her towards over to the table, which has a plate of warm bread and smoked meat, something quick and simple for her to eat before the long process of her day begins.

By the time she's finished eating, two additional maids have joined the room, only after the large copper tub has been brought into the room. Brienne appeared for a single moment, to stoke the fire to ensure her lady's warmth, before returning down to the main hall to keep watch over the preparations alongside Lord Royce. Bucket after bucket of hot, steaming water is poured into the tub until it's nearly overflowing and only then does Shae stop the maids from coming. She drips lavender and rosewater into the bath until the room smells heavenly and that is when all others are sent away, leaving Sansa and Shae alone once more. "It is like it was back then," Sansa says as she rises up from where she sits, a faint smile gracing her features. "Back in King's Landing."

Since the day Shae had arrived in Winterfell, they had not really spoken of those days so long ago. It seemed easier, in truth. Instead, they talked about everything else- Sansa telling her of her horrors as Ramsay Bolton's wife, opening up to the only other person about it besides Jon. Shae tells her about the beauty of Essos and her glimpse of the fallen Targaryen queen before she sailed for Westeros. They talk about the retaking of Winterfell and slowly, but surely, finding the pieces of her family. By the end, Shae smiles, knowing that despite everything that has happened to her young lady, she has found happiness.

"It is... So in the tub with you," Shae responds with a chuckle, reaching out so she can slide the robe from her shoulders. Sansa herself tugs her nightgown over her head and she climbs into the tub. The water, warm and delicious, sloshes over the sides, and she can't help but to sink low and enjoy the sweet scented water.

However in no time, Shae has washed her hair and every inch of her body, and the water has begun to grow cold despite the roaring fire. And so a warm sheet is brought by another maid and Shae wraps her in it as soon as she climbs from the tub, guiding her to the chair before her vanity. Across the room a maid is laying out the gown she's sewn herself, a dress which holds a piece of everyone she's ever loved. The dress is a soft gray, the fabric she was given years ago now, fabric which once was that of Margaery's gown for her wedding to Joffrey. Though Sansa has had the fabric dyed, it is a piece of her one and only friend (besides Shae that is) from her time in King's Landing. The gray of the gown reminds her of her father, for it is the very same shade of his favorite shirt, one which her mother had sewn for him years before when Sansa herself was still clinging to her skirts. The sweeping sleeves are patterned with fish scales, a nod to her mother and Tully roots, and the underside is falling weirwood leaves, a stark red against the gray, those are for Bran of course. Black armor fits comfortably over the bodice, wrought in metal, it represents the both the growing branches of the weirwood trees and for her, symbols what has yet to come. There will be a cloak too- one shouldered, for Arya who wears one every day, though the color is for Jon, black as the clothes he wears, and the tufts of fur its made from for little Rickon, lost to them but not ever forgotten. Even her needle, once worn faithfully around her neck, hangs from a chain around her waist- a piece of herself among all those for her family. And finally comes the crown that she will wear, one of direwolves, not just her family's sigil, but a representation of the wolf king that never came to be. But of course, her crown should be that which reminds her of Robb, the King in the North who came before both her and Jon.

"It's time, your grace," Shae speaks softly, gently, pulling Sansa from her swirling thoughts. All this time that she's been lost within her own mind, Shae has brushed out her hair and dabbed rosewater behind her ears and against her neck. It's true, she can see now the sunlight that pours in from between her curtains, telling her the sun has risen high into the sky. If she doesn't dress soon, she will be late to her own coronation. Suddenly her stomach twists in knots and she finds that she can't find the strength to rise up from where she sits. "Come now, let's get you dressed." Shae gently rises her up from where she sits and steers her into the center of the room, where another maid patiently waits to assist in the process that will be dressing Sansa in her elaborate gown.

And then, when she's fully dressed, there comes a knock to the door.

Shae opens it and steps aside a moment later, offering a quick curtsy to the guest before stepping aside so they may enter. Jon approaches where she stands and for a moment, he's mesmerized by the sight of her; she stands tall in her gray gown, her long red hair worn loose from it's usual braids, instead it falls straight down her back and even from there he can smell her familiar scent of rosewater. He's so lost in this moment of seeing her he's forgotten to bow or even speak, let alone the real reason he's come to her rooms so last minute. "How do I look?" She's asking, bringing him back, reminding him that he's come for a reason that was simply not to stare.

"Beautiful." It's the first word that comes to mind and she's blushing beneath his gaze, her rosy lips curving with a smile. Somewhere behind them, Shae ducks from the room. "I have something for you." He goes on and her smiles vanishes, replaced instead with a look of surprise. From within his doublet he pulls a small box, placed there that morning after he'd dressed in his new clothes, ones which of course Sansa had prepared for him. I'd have sewn them myself, she had said that day when she'd given them to him, but my gown took far longer than I anticipated... He had laughed, but was silenced when he unwrapped the package, his shock at the finery before him bringing a laugh from her instead. "Go on, open it," he encourages her softly and she reaches out, taking the box from him.

When she opens it, she finds she cannot breathe.

Nestled in a soft bed of silk is a shining silver pendant, made from the finest of metals, in the design of a direwolf. It's delicate, made so beautifully that as she runs a finger across it, she can feel the texture of the fur that's carved into it. And the eye... It's a beautiful gem of amber and gold, a color so unlike anything she's ever seen except for.... "Lady...." She's murmuring, tears brimming in her eyes as she realizes the gem is the very same color as her beloved wolf's eyes. "Oh, Jon." When she looks up, Jon is grinning sheepishly, though he reaches out and with a gentle swipe from his thumb, catches the tears that cling to her lashes.

"You have a piece of everyone except for her... I wanted you to have her with you, too." He's sobered now, Stark gray eyes solemn as they stare back at her. "Here," he's reaching for the necklace now, gesturing for her to turn around, which when she does he clasps it around her neck, lingering for a moment longer just so he can feel the brushing of her hair against his hands as she lets it fall back into place. She turns back around then and the pendant sits against her chest, the silver sharp and bright against the black armor, but perfectly fitting for her gown.

"Thank you," she's whispering, tearing up again, but Jon laughs as he shakes his head, urging her not to cry. "I'll treasure it forever." She goes on, hand reaching up to gingerly touch it, as if it were the most precious of things. And in truth, it was.

"Come on then, or else you'll be late," Jon says, offering her his arm, which she takes with a single nod. Together they step out of the room and he leads her along the hall, down the stairs and to the main hallway, which has been lit with torches all the way down to the double doors of the great hall. "I must leave you here," Jon says and she nods, though she can't help but to cling to his arm, keeping him there. "I'll be watching," he says softly, leaning in so his lips capture hers in a fleeting kiss that she feels long after he's gone.

And then, with the strength Jon has given her, she walks down the hall and pushes open the doors that lead her to her destiny.

#jonsa #actuallyjonsa #jon x sansa #my writing #i wrote this #this has been in my head all day so #i finally finished it #this is the piece i was working on that made me neglect sleep last week lol

56 notes · View notes

aquarii-writes · 3 years

Text

History on repeat(Dream x f!reader)

Ngl this was inspired by a dnf piece on tik tok. While I don't ship it the art was beautiful and the song attached inspired me to write this. This also includes my headcanons for Dream/his parents and I'll elaborate on it in a different post if enough people ask lmao

Notes: I should mention to look at my 'DSMP headcanons' especially Dream's part because that's where I kinda explain that I don't believe that Dream himself is a dreamon but that his mask contains one. I also used Dream's real name as his fathers name. I don't really like using the dsmp members real names if it's not in their user but I had to think of a name

WARNINGS: none I can think of aside from death and stuff of similar manners

WC:1,005

Genre: Angstyy

Two people sat together along the shoreline of a river. The colors of the sunset danced on the water. Turning the already beautiful area ethereal. Warm summer air tickled the woman; her blonde hair jumped with the wind.

"You're so beautiful [REDACTED]" the man spoke. His amber eyes held a love for the woman beside him; his lovely wife. Her green cloak acted as a pillow for her.

"You're too kind my darling" a smile played on the woman's lips. Her mask discarded beside her. The painted smile similar to the one she held.

"I love you with all my heart" a smile danced on the mans face. His lovely wife sat up and hugged him. Falling back into the grass the happy couple basked in one another. Masks long forgotten beside them. "Stay with me forever [REDACTED]?"

"Of course my darling dream" the twos faces were close as the wife spoke. It felt as though time sat there frozen to preserve the lasting moment.

Smiling towards you Dream held out his arms to get you to come towards him. As you got near Dream pulled you on top of him. His arms circling around your waist.

~~~

"Dream~" your voice was loving. Dreams mask was off as he watched you jump in the stream water. The sun was setting over the horizon and the light gave an other worldly glow to you and the water.

Playing with the locks of hair that fell into your grasp, Dream watched you. A deep seeded longing in his eyes. Out here away from everything was when Dream was the most caring. His affections unrestricted when he wasn't in the eyes of his friends. When he could easily sneak away.

Though the future had many plans for the two of you, but here in this moment the future could wait.

"I would do anything for you (y/n)" Dream's amber eyes looked like the sun. Specks of gold shined like they were directly in the sun. Nodding to his statement you kissed the man before you. An adoring hum escaped him.

Pulling away you mumbled out a response. "I love you with all my heart~"

"Will you stay with me forever?" with a teasing smile Dream rubbed your sides: tickling you along the way.

"Of course my darling Dream" an unknown feeling of deja vu came over the two. Seems as though something similar happened in the past.

~~~

"My dream!!' [REDACTED] screamed for her husband. "Don't take him away! Please!," the woman covered her small sons ears. The child didn't know what was happening. huddling into his mother arms the woman kept screaming for her husband.

Huddled under her cloak the small boy held a hand over his mother stomach and whispered to it. The boys father struggled against the men who held him away from his family. "CLAY! LET HIM GO! He didn't mean it.." [REDACTED] dropped to the ground crying. Her son hugging his mother. "Oh my baby Dream"

Dream's mother held onto him for dear life. Tears fell from his eyes as he watched his father get taken to the gallows. As a final goodbye his father threw towards them.

Crawling away from his mother, Dream grabbed the mask; his fathers mask. The plastic was cracked in a few placed, and some of the paint was chipped, but it was probably the last thing he would ever have of his fathers.

"Please just let my husband go" [REDACTED]'s mask was similarly painted though the tears the spilt from under it spoke another story. "It was the Dreamons who did it.. not my Clay.. not my lovely dreamer.." her whimpers drew her son back over to her.

"Mommy what's happening to daddy?" Dream wouldn't get an answer from her. Just wails and whimpers about how cruel the world was.

~~~

"Dream what did you do..," Tommy and Tubbo huddled behind you. A fearful look settled in your eyes. Dream's mask was just that, a mask. Behind it he held no remorse for what he had done and what he said.

He did plan on killing Tubbo, but the look in your eyes made his thoughts stutter. Should he not kill Tubbo? When Dream said he doesn't care about anyone it planted a seed in your heart. Did he really not love you anymore?

Dream didn't answer you. All he did was stare at you through the mask. "Take off your damn mask and answer me Dream" when your voice jumped at him all Dream could do was stare. He didn't talk and he didn't react. "Why aren't you answering me?! Dream WHY did you do it?!"

"I didn't mean to-"

"Like hell you didn't mean to!" your tone was sharp. It made the boys behind you move back as you came forward to hold Dream's face. This felt too familiar. Why does it feel so familiar?

Knitted brows went unnoticed behind the mask. His annoyed expression hidden to the world; to you. His everything. Before he lost it he wanted to marry you. He even joked about you being his wife. His darling wife.

"Do you not care about me anymore? After everything that's happened between us?" a certain sadness pushed your pain to him. It was the same sorrow his mother screamed from the top of her lungs. That's why it felt so familiar.

A desolate look decorated your (e/c) eyes. The same eyes he would've fought wars so see happy. The very eyes he believed he would love forever.

"It's not my fault- sweetheart it's not my fault" his words became more rushed as Sam pulled Dream away. Dragging him to Pandora's Vault. All the way to his box.

The misery and heartache Dream saw on your face reminded him of his mother. The heartbreak he never wanted to see again.

~~~

{REDACTED] held a baby in her arms as she watched her son play on the hill with her friends son. The baby girl in her arms slept peacefully as she spoke to her friend beside her.

Puffy had been a good friend of [REDACTED] for a long time now. "Puffy you have to promise me something"

"Anything [REDACTED]" Puffy watched the baby in her friends arms. The poor thing had been born months after her fathers hanging. The family had to go into hiding.

"Please after tonight take my babies with you.... I don't think I can carry on much longer with out my Clay.." despair was the only way Puffy could describe her once vibrant friend.

The woman's once vibrant green eyes now only held melancholy. The satchel that sat beside her only contained a few things; one thing being Clay's mask.

"Dream my beloved!" [REDACTED] called out for her boy. The mask that once adorned her face constantly had been vacant since her husband died.

Running up to his momma Dream reached out to hold his baby sister. Passing baby Drista [REDACTED] kissed her sons head before pulling something from her satchel.

"Dream listen to me. The world is a cruel and it will hurt you-" holding out Clay's mask to her son said everything to the small boy. Giving baby Drista to Puffy, Dream took his fathers mask away from his mother. "Wear this.. it was your fathers..," a sadistic smile rested on his mothers face.

It scared him, but it was the first smile he saw from her since his father died.

"Okay mommy" Dream slipped on the mask his father once wore and winced. It felt like strings were licking his face. It felt wrong. This wasn't his mask to be keeping was it?

~~~

The prison vault was deafening. Nothing was a really annoying sound when all that surrounded you was lava and crying obsidian. Though he had one thing to look forward to.

You promised to see him today. His lovely wife. Well you weren't married. He fucked up that chance when he lost himself to the mask. The dreamons that whispered to him constantly.

Ever since he came in here the whispers stopped. Except for when they speak about you.

The pistoning sound of the bridge coming brought Dream from his head. A sadistic smile grew on him. Throwing off the mask the threads retreated back into the plastic.

"(y/n) my beloved!" a crazed look adorned Dream's face as he looked at you. His beloved wife. "I love you so much~"

"Dream.." with a heavy heart you held Dream's face. His eyes held a look of longing love.

"Dream love.. listen to me. The world is cruel.. and it's going to hurt," your voice cracked as you held Dream's hands. Worry filled him as Dream dragged you towards him.

Pushing back Dream dug around in the chest of his room. A ring sat gently between his fingers.

"Wear this... it'll protect you.." a hopeful look held on to Dream's face. All his love and adoration for you.

"I'm sorry Dream.. I love you so much but maybe it's better if we split ways.... I.. why do I trust you so much? Your hands are scarred with murder, but I trust them completely.." crumpling to the ground you sobbed. Conflictions and pain battering against you for weeks.

Dream held you. He had seen this all before. History was repeating. He witnessed this happen between his parents. The very thing he never wanted to happen to him did. He's losing the love of his life.

Why does history have to repeat?

#mcyt imagine #dsmp imagine #dreamwastaken #dream smp #dream x reader #dream imagine

94 notes · View notes

anothertimdrakestan · 4 years

Text

Dying In The Batboys Arms

reqs: "do you write dark stuff like the boys reaction to the reader dying??? i love your blog btw!" & "Hi could I get some a n g s t"

sooo i'm terrible at angst or anything involving sadness because i ~fall apart~ and give up but for you two i tried my best haha and went for a HC cuz it's easier right? anyways hope you enjoy i cried like twice while writing this but i'm a weak bitch so i had to end them all decently to sleep alright tonight oops

Damian Wayne:

- damian would never let you die, so this would have to be you fulfilling some kind of deal or something unavoidable like yeeting into the speed force or something

- rushing to his embrace one last time and throwing your arms around him

- feeling him shake in your embrace as he whispers "please don't go beloved" and "ill never forget you" reducing you to tears as well

- your last kiss is salty and desprate, like he's trying to remember every moment, every feeling of you

- telling him it's not his fault and that he'll need to move on, but he's too busy promising to find you and save you even if there truly is no hope

- when you leave his eyes are the last thing you see, they were always your favorite and after years of looking at them it felt fitting they'd be the last earthly thing you saw

- as soon as you're gone damian isn't leaving the spot for weeks

- he's basically camped out, hair grown out, cheeks permanently stained as everytime he thinks of you he's crying again- making up for all the tears he held in his whole life

- jon is the only person he'll speak to, and even in that his words are softer than they'd ever been, damian would be to broken to hold his regular facade

- eventually jon coaxes him to return, seeing your belongings unmoved for months

- he'd almost undeniably quit robin, taking up a nickname you called him or wearing a suit in your favorite color, his only driving force after losing you will be the hope you had in him, he tells himself that even in death you're still watching over him forever... it may bit be true but it's the only thing that gives him a reason to keep living and not try to join you

Tim Drake:

- coughing up blood you'd search frantically for tim until he was at your side, crying uncontrollably as he tried to push away your hair matted with blood

- "hey timbers i don't think i'm gonna make it outta this one" you whispered, your hand reaching up to caress tim's cheek, wiping away the tears

- "no, stay with me help is coming i'm right here!" he'd scream spamming the 911 button on his suit as you shook your head "i might be dying but i'm not stupid" his eyes softened at the light smile that traced the lips he loved to kiss

- pulling him down to whisper everything you needed to say all he'd be able to get out it "i can't keep going if you leave me"

- squeezing his hand with every last ounce of strength you reminded him "it's not goodbye timmy it's a see you later, right?" with a soft nod he looked at you, eyes still brimming with tears

- "i've always been so proud of you timbers, don't stop now. see you later okay? i love you" the last words were strangled, but you had to give him something to hang on to as you let go, fading into the pain

- "see you soon y/n l/n ill love you always" were the last words to grace your ears, fading into a dull white noise as you slipped into peaceful bliss, tim's fsvorite soft smile permanent on your lips

- his family found him clutching your limp body, rocking back and forth promising to make you proud, repeated pushing your hair behind your ears because he knows you hate having hair fall in your face

- the strangled noises leaving his families throats as they realized what happened didn't help, neither did dick falling to the ground next to him, and steph bawling into jason's chest. duke had softly grabbed damians hand, both staring at the sky praying to whom ever was listening while bruce pulled tim up and into an embrace

- carefully the family left, one member- and a huge piece of their heart missing. broken at the scene.

- tim threw himself into work, determined to make you proud- but his family would catch him sitting in front of the small, supposedly secret, shrine he'd made in his closet for you, if damian presses his ear to his closet wall he could hear tim softly telling you about his day and what he did that would make you laugh

- months later he seemed calmer, no one could figure it out until dick took the time to ask. tim didn't say much but he held up his left hand ring finger and in a writing dick hadn't seen in months, the perfectly messy scribbles tattooed on his hand said "see you later timmy"

Jason Todd:

- seeing you minutes from death would send jason into shock, unable to move other than sinking to his knees next to you as you groaned with pain

- "at least hold me while a go jaybird" you mumbled through the blood trying to fill your throat. quickly he'd wrap his arms around you

- jason's embrace was comforting as always, you tried to memorize the way the scars landed on your abdomen and his calloused hands tentatively held you like you could break at any wrong move- i guess he was right this time

- "just hold on babe" jason was never good with words was he? with the last ounces of strength you cupped his cheek, bringing his head down to yours "stop talking and kiss me one last time" you whispered

- jason's hands fell to their usual position, one keeping you upright by holding your lower back, his rough hands creating perfect friction with your smooth skin, his other secured to the back of your head, lightly tugging on loose strands of your hair, it was like a puzzle piece fitting together, you melded perfectly to his lips

- the kiss was slow and loving, taking a moment you deepened it just to burn the memory of his passion into your brain before returning back to his loving and slow kisses

- you realized you were crying into the kiss when his rough finger swiped away tears, his lips never leaving yours

- pulling apart to breath and cough jason clung to you "please hold on please" you gave him a sad smile "it's okay jaybird i'm last where the pain hurts that means it's coming soon" you whispered, your hand still on his cheek, feeling the light stubble you always thought was so sexy

- "i love you jason todd, but i've never lied to you and i'm not starting now, this is goodbye babe" you told him bluntly, his face contorting as he pulled you back into his chest "no no no no" were the only words he could think of "i love you jay, it's okay baby" you pulled his lips back to yours until you felt the pain incoming

- "i don't think i've got much longer. hold me?" you looked up to jason who was pushing away tears

- "always" he replied, clutching you to his heaving chest as you snuggled into his embrace, you were sad this would be the last time you got to feel his heartbeat and chest rise and fall, you loved the feeling and knew you'd never forget it, even in death

- "y/n? babe? no" jason realized you were gone, and he lost it, screaming at the universe for taking the one good thing, crying like he promised he'd never, and punching almost everything within a 5 foot range

- his family found him bloody and broken, clutching your lifeless body as he tried to wrap him mind around what happened, he might never get better, the memory of your loss burned too deep and scarred too hard, but if he truly understood your love for him he'd use that love he had for you to drive it towards good, fighting for whatever you believed in most as an homage to you, hoping that when he next saw you he'd get to remember the feeling of you throwing your arms around him like you always did when he did something you were proud of, that desire was the only thing keeping him going

Dick Grayson:

- imagine an impending death with dick grayson, maybe it's a medical diagnosis and hope has run out, or a known death date, whatever it maybe- i think only dick would be a character strong enough to stay by your side through it all

- when it just became too hard to go on you and dock both knew what was coming

- he took weeks off nightwing duties, traveling the world and falling deeper in love, eloping somewhere deep in europe to solidify your love eternally no matter where either of you were

- the day it was finally time you were wrapped up in his clothes, your favorite hoodie and sweatpants that smelled of the warm vanilla toasted marshmallow smell you fell in love with

- you'd catch dick swiping away rogue tears all day, trying to make the most of your time together

- as the final hour ticked down you both let everything off your chests, not that there was really anything left

- nestling himself one the crook of your shoulder you inhaled the warm comfortable scent, willing yourself to never forget it when he whispered "i'm not ready to let you go yet" and it broke the both of you, sobbing into each other's shoulders as time stopped

- feeling death begin creeping in you were curled up in dick's embracing, having said your goodbyes to loved ones, damian especially heart broken he was clutching one of your sweatshirts, one day he'd grow out of it but you assumed by then he'd be over the loss

- "does- do you hurt?" dick asked softly as you soaked in his embrace, feeling his tears roll down your touching cheeks

- "it's not scary when you're here dickie" you whispered, pulling his lips in for one last kiss, as you began drifting away you shifted to rest on his collar bone, inhaling the vanilla scent that had been your rock for years, you were glad it would be the last thing you remembered, the best sendoff you could ask for

- dick watched you exhale your last breath peacefully, part of him was glad your pain was over, but that didn't stop the sobs from escaping

- damian crept in, still clinging to your sweatshirt, hopping up into dick's lap, nestled between you and dick, he'd only done it a couple times but he needed it almost as much as dick this time

- and the two held you together, more family members came and went but damian and dick held your vigil, together they helped each other get up and live, falling into a routine of sitting in the same position, your sweatshirt held in their lap, occasionally they'd raise it and take a trip down memory lane with your familiar smell still lingering on the sweatshirt, and that was all they had of you, but now they had each other. and that would have to do until they saw you again

#tim drake #damian wayne #jason todd #dick grayson #batboys #batfam #batfam headcanons #tim drake x reader #damian wayne x reader #jason todd x reader #dick grayson x reader #dc angst #tim drake angst #damian wayne angst #jason todd angst #dick grayson angst #dc fluff #batfamily

768 notes · View notes

yandere-society · 4 years

Text

The Watcher

Pairing: Hoseok x Female Reader

Synopsis: You were supposed to be living your dream life… One where you would be able to start a happy family with your partner but instead here you were - sleep deprived and terrified of the very own walls you once called home. All because of him - he who haunted you day and night, he who surrounded the hidden corners of your mind. He, who called himself: ‘The Watcher.’

Word Count: 4.3k

Warnings: Yandere themes, Suicide mention, Abusive relationship, Mentions of mental illness

Headline: Couple Flee Dream Home After Threats From “The Watcher”

Admin: @roses-ruby

“Are you sure on the color? I didn’t know you liked green at all.”

“Yeah,” You reply casually, taking a mug out from the moving box. There was a paper wrapped around the mug for glass protection – one you discarded back into the package before placing the cup on the marbled counter. The kitchen window didn’t have curtains yet, which let warm sunlight pour into the room and light up the whole area. “It’s a really soft green. I think it’s optimistic.”

Your husband scoffs playfully as you walk over to the coffee maker. You had just moved in yesterday so your dream house – ready to be filled with everything you’ve cultivated throughout the years – only contained a mass of unloaded belongings. Yet still, nothing could beat the simple contentment of just existing in the exact place you’ve always wanted.

“I’m so happy to be here.”

“Well, I’m glad someone is.” Taehyung interrupts your wonder.

You stare at him with an eyebrow raised, grabbing the coffee pot, “Another letter?”

“Yup, the fourth one.” He sighs, “These neighborhood kids you know…they’re kinda creepy…”

Ever since you moved in you’ve been receiving odd, unmarked envelopes with strangely worded letters inside. They contained weird riddles and vague threats but neither of you were alarmed, deducing that the neighboring children were playing a prank on the newbies. Stranger things have happened, right? Perhaps you were both fools still in the honeymoon phase, too excited about your first month of marriage and future life to be brought down by such shenanigans.

“Oh, they’ll stop eventually. What was it this time though?”

“Something about the works of Jean-Paul Sartre or something-”

As soon as you heard the name, you froze in your tracks with the coffee pot hanging over the blue mug. Jean-Paul Sartre? No, it couldn’t be. It had to be a coincidence. Your husband seemed to be saying something in the background, but your brain was too blurred to listen. There was no way it was him. Even if there has only ever been one man you’ve encountered who was in love with the French philosopher as much as you were. It’s not him – not after 6 years. Not him.

“___?” His soft voice fills your ears, “___, I won’t let you go. You’re mine, now and forever-”

“___?” You suddenly feel someone grab your arm, snapping you out of your nightmare as you come face to face with your husband.

“…Huh?”

“Are you alright, ___? You look a little pale.” He asks, with concern lacing his features.

“I…I’m fine…I’m alright Taehyung…you know just…with the move and all…I’m tired…sorry…” You stutter out a response which he obviously didn’t believe. The more you gaze into his orbs, the more frightened you feel. Instead of easing his worry, your mind was only thinking of one thing: this can’t happen again, not again. Deciding that you didn’t want to be interrogated further, you move away from him, turning around and changing the subject.

“So…I’ll grab the paints today-”

“I’ll do it,” He interrupts, “If you’re tired you should go lie down.”

He walks past you, out of the room and a minute later you hear the front door open and shut. You just stand there – like a fool, wishing you could stop this feeling of fear and remorse from paralyzing you. Everything was going so well and then you had to go and ruin it by bringing him back into your conscience. Clenching your fist tight, you begin to cry, loathing yourself the most in that moment. This is what always happens to you when it concerns him and it’s why you don’t want him to come back into your life.

Please, not him.

“It does look optimistic!”

“Like a field of grass in front of a farmer!”

“Ugh, again?” You groan at your husband’s habit of cringe-inducing analogies.

“Oh, come on they’re cute!” He says, wrapping his arms around you as you laugh. The wall paint had finally dried and the soft green had settled nicely along with your furniture that you both had exhaustingly positioned in place. While you were playfully wrestling each other in the living room, you heard a small rustle of paper from the front door indicating the arrival of mail.

“I’ll get it!” You shout, removing his large limbs from you.

He chases you to the front door, tickling you as you pick up the fallen mail and begin to scour through the bills and ads for something important over a fit of laughter. The amusement and hustling came to a halt once you found another blank envelope in between your fingers. No one made a sound, already knowing who the sender would be.

“I’ll throw it out…” You hear the anger in your husband’s tone as he holds out his hand.

But rather than giving him the envelope, something inside of you encourages you to open it and take out the letter inside. There was a heavy, malevolent lull that surrounded the atmosphere as you began to read its contents.

“Dear ___, so divine.

I can’t stop running until you’re mine.

I keep this leash for the sake of peace,

and I’ll bite my tongue until blood fills my lung.

But Dear ___, so divine.

You should know that you’ll be mine.

I’ll watch you sleep and torch your wings

Until you’re wearing my wedding ring.

Sincerely, The Watcher.

“…What the fuck…” You could hear the horror in Taehyung’s voice. “How does he know your name?”

Because it’s him. Of course it is.

“It’s…nothing,” You say absentmindedly, laughing as you place the letter back in the envelope with trembling digits, “Just kids… playing a prank…”

“This is not the work of ‘some kids!’ It’s obviously a psychopath!” He yells in panic

“Don’t…” You mutter, an abrupt beating in your brain, “Don’t raise your voice, Tae.”

“But __-”

“I said it’s the fucking kids, didn’t I?” You grit in his face with your eyebrows furrowed.

He gapes at you for a second, his face a mix of confusion and shock, before he takes a step back. Taehyung didn’t understand why you were upset and he wanted to argue but then he saw the color leave your face.

You were staring straight at him, until you couldn’t anymore. The walls that were so beloved a minute ago now came closing in on you. Your breathing became hoarse and you took in large amounts of air to compensate up till the point where you couldn’t perceive clearly.

“___?” Your husband, a mere black silhouette, shook your arms as you began to bend over.

You panted as hard as you could, but you weren’t able to breathe and started to choke on your own spit. His image was lodging itself throughout your mind and the tears that crept out of your eye sockets felt like stones. This is exactly what you were afraid of, this is exactly why you didn’t want to believe it was him.

“Slowly baby! Breath slowly! Calm down!” His speech became foggy as your vision began to fade.

“H…seok-”

And then it was all black.

You woke up with a gasp, the image of a white ceiling sticking to your eyes. Did you pass out?

“Are you okay?” You hear your husband and turn your face to see him sitting on the floor next to you, who laid on the sofa. His face was downcast, hand holding onto you tightly as you slowly recalled everything that happened before you fainted.

“Yeah…I’m fine…”

Taehyung’s expression brought back that feeling again. That traitorous fear, that immense guilt. He deserved none of it and you hated yourself for making him worry. Countless times – you told yourself that you were over him and you could now wholeheartedly move on with your husband. But it seems like that was nothing but your own deceitfulness.

How did he even find you? What did he want from you now after six whole years? You try to sit up, wanting to feel as complete as you did before the wretched moment this afternoon.

“Tae…a-about the letter-”

“Hey, hey, hey, don’t worry about that.” He smiles, helping you up by placing his hand against the small of your back, “…Just like you said, a prank, right?”

Taehyung, a man so usually stubborn – there was something off about his stance that you couldn’t pinpoint. But whatever it was, you were fine with it as long as it meant that you wouldn’t have to confront that. So, with a tense smile, you lie through your teeth.

“Y…yeah.”

And maybe this was your own undoing, but in that very second, when he gives you a beaming grin, you laugh. A bolder of pressure releasing from your shoulders. It’s alright, this was still your house and you were still safe here. Away from him.

You don’t notice Tae’s face falling as soon as you looked away.

When you woke up again, it had already been a month.

A month of living in your dream home with the dream life you’ve always wanted. Nothing could make you happier. You leave the bed and wander into the hall to remind yourself that this was real – that this serene place really existed, and you were going to start your new married life here. Placing your hand against the painted green wall, you marvel at the beautiful blend of colors and textures.

You found yourself searching for your husband around the large house you got to call a home. It had been your goal since long ago to own a place like this. Of course, back then you had desired the commitment with your then boyfriend, Hoseok.

In that instant you stop walking. Hoseok. It’s been a long time since you’ve recalled that man and hadn’t withdrawn in apprehension. He was a happy man, the Hoseok that everyone loved. A handsome man that was always glowing with a bright ball energy, he was everyone’s friend…a mood maker. There wasn’t anyone who didn’t love him. But the Hoseok you knew – your Hoseok was a monster.

A monster hell bent on possessing you.

Everyone adored him, but he only loved you. You were so delighted that he did, so overcome with joy that you hadn’t realized then that his fondness came with many setbacks. He made you laugh, he made you cry, but mostly, he made you feel love in a way you didn’t think was possible. Blame it on your youth – you were too wrapped up in the idea of Hoseok’s affection to understand that it wasn’t normal.

He wasn’t normal.

So, you overlooked his possessive nature and his jealousy and his anger. But your body didn’t. Your skin still held scars he cultivated through nights of sexual torture. Your ears still remember the words he used to berate you. Wounds you used to adore left you with raw shame after he discarded you. So much shame, that you couldn’t even think about him or your relationship with him without utter dread grabbing at your bones. However, it didn’t matter much anymore. You were no longer a young girl desperate for his approval… you were an adult – a woman who fell in love and got married to the only man she’ll ever need.

He won’t be able to possess you ever again; he was a monster. You’re so thankful that he hadn’t sent another letter for a while now, although his silence was a tad unnerving.

The door you stood in front of creaked suddenly, catching your attention. It was then that you realized you had ended up in front of your husband’s home office. That’s right, you were looking for your husband. A much kinder and sane person.

With a smile, you push open the door to be greeted with a large, soundless room. Your smile disappears as you spot the mess of papers on your husband’s desk. They were littered everywhere, covering the whole table while some fell onto the chair and the floor. You never knew that a messy pile of papers could look so menacing. The beating of your heart grew louder as you stepped closer to the desk.

You pick up a letter, then another – then many more as horror starts to fill your lungs. More poems and threats – all of them scattered in erratic handwriting that spelled insanity. All of them signed, ‘The Watcher.’ Had it gotten this bad? But when? How? Your husband hadn’t told you about any of this.

Your eyes land on a particular letter and you begin to read it against your own will. It wasn’t addressed to anyone, the only one that directly contained your name was the divine poem. Still, you knew if it was from him, then it was for you.

Do you remember when we used to visit that bistro across the street from your dorms? How cold it was that one night, and you hated the cold so I held your hand in mine to keep you warm. Your whole body was a chill and I took pride in heating every inch of your heart. I could watch you for hours on end, and never bore. I loved you dearly, only you. That’s why I’ll watch you for a thousand nights and love you for a thousand more.

Sincerely, The Watcher.

The bistro…you vaguely remember that place. Two college students barging in half high and so annoyingly in love. Hoseok would get so upset when you made eye contact with other male customers and sometimes, he would pick fights with them. Take them behind an alley and return all black and blue.

“I won.” He’d say with a grin while you cried your eyes out, wondering what was wrong with him but being too devoted to his smile to actually care.

“Why…why now…” You muffled in a painful voice.

Suddenly you heard the sound of words being spoken in the distance. It came from downstairs, somewhere near the front door. You gradually moved towards the voice, not wanting to be alone with your thoughts. Once you were in the living room, you stopped and hid halfway between a wall, spotting your husband talking to a man in a suit.

“I just…don’t know detective…”

Detective? He called the police?

“The letters, they’re deranged…and they’re just getting worse I’m- I’m afraid for me and my wife…I don’t know what to do…”

“Well, I can tell you to not worry too much.” The older gentleman replied in a gruff voice, “Whoever this is hasn’t done anything but send letters, so it seems like he’s just playing with you. I’ll have someone patrolling the block for a while, and we’ll be the ones receiving your mail before you do for now. I’ll be back to collect those letters and…we’ll catch this jerk in a matter of days, I’m sure.”

It seems like this case doesn’t interest him much.

“Th-thank you officer I just…worry about my wife she’s…she was so happy here and then…ever since we started getting these damned letters- that freak even knows her name-”

“Are you sure you don’t want us to question her? Perhaps she knows who this person is.”

“No. I don’t think it will be good for her at all. Last time she read a letter, she had a panic attack… they really upset her, so please…she can’t know of any more.”

“Alright…we’ll see what we can do for now and I’ll follow up in a couple of days…”

“Thank you so much officer-”

Their voices begin to blend into the background as you turned around so that your back was against the wall you hid with. You were finally, finally starting to be happy…truly happy so why? Why would he come back and threaten everything you’ve grown to hold dear? Anger and pain were swimming in your heart. Wasn’t he the one who left you behind? What did he want from you now?

“Why now…Hoseok…”

Two and a half months.

Two and a half months of acting awkward and silent around one another. You sigh, sitting in your car and bracing yourself before you walk through your front door. A month ago, coming home from work was comforting, but now it just felt drawn out and agonizing. Both of you were hiding secrets, and you both simmered in guilt because of it. But it wasn’t any of his fault; it was all yours.

You, who couldn’t get over that damn bastard that left you all those years ago.

Taehyung had always been so kind to you, and you who came out of such a torturous relationship appreciated that more than anything. Yet the thought of him finding out about Hoseok – about everything you let Hoseok do to you was mortifying. Would he, who treats you with so much care, think of you the same after he’s known the truth? It’s why you could never tell him.

You’re not sure if there had been any new letters, since the police was sorting through your mail before it came back to you. But deep down inside, in a secret place, you wanted to see what Hoseok had to say. If he was still reaching out to you, if he was still watching you. With one last breathe, you open the car door and step down, ready to trudge back into your room and forget these thoughts.

Yet suddenly, when you were a few feet from your front door, you hear someone call out your name.

It was a lady, short bobbed hair - someone you knew you’ve seen before. She held a microphone in her hand and there was a man with a camera chasing her. There were many others with similar mics and cams rushing towards you with an eager look in their hungry eyes.

Your heart drops once you realize who they were. Reporters.

A whole group of them.

“Ms. ___, how long have you been receiving these letters now?”

“Is it true that this Watcher is from a previous affair you had behind your husband’s back?”

“Is he just some stalker?”

“How does he know your name? How do you feel about him knowing your name?”

“Are you and your husband sleeping in separate rooms?”

You started to speed towards your door as they all surrounded you, bombarding you with personal questions. Most of them kept saying your name over and over while shoving their devices in your face. So many thoughts ran across your mind but at the moment you were in no position to think calmly. Holding your breath, you managed to make it to the front door and took out your key. There was a slight struggle between you and the lock which they all saw, but still kept hounding on you.

Another panic attack was coming up, you could feel it. It seems like the police has been nothing but incompetent and now your private situation was to become a media debacle. You tried hard to concentrate on opening the door amidst the frenzy. Finally, you were able to make it safely inside and slam the door shut behind, with wild pants leaving your lips.

Your husband heard the noise and rushed from the kitchen to where you stood with a stupid look on his face.

“__-”

“Why are there reporters?”

“What?”

“WHY ARE THERE REPORTERS IN MY DRIVEWAY ASKING ME ABOUT THE FUCKING LETTERS?”

“I-I-I don’t-”

“Who did you tell?” You sneer

“I…I didn’t…just the police I promise!” He genuinely seemed shocked, to which you groaned. His expression became fearful, “You don’t think…that the police…”

“Well someone had to leak it!” Falling onto your knees, you place your head in your hands.

You thought you could come home, that once you came home this headache would end, but it was the loudest when you were in here. All you wanted was to fucking breathe – not hide in your house behind closed curtains, afraid and embarrassed to death with this loud pounding in your brain.

“___...” Taehyung steps close to you, and it seemed like he wanted to take you in his arms.

“Don’t touch me!” You shout, making him flinch. “…don’t touch me…”

You were yelling but it was not out of anger. This was all your fault – everything was your fault and you felt nothing but disgust for yourself. Taehyung shouldn’t touch you or he’d become dirty too. For a moment you thought about telling him everything until your eyes caught something behind him.

All the noise outside only subsided once you zeroed in on an envelope slightly sticking out of the antique dresser drawer in your entrance hallway.

“How did that get there?” You slowly lift your hand to point towards it.

Taehyung follows your finger to the antique drawer, and you see the shock form on his face. All the letters were supposed to arrive in the mail which is filtered by the police so how did that get in here?

Was that man…

Was Hoseok in your house?

With a gulp, you stand up and walk closer to the drawer. You look over at Taehyung once you were standing in front of it, and he seemed defeated. Both by this cursed house and the mysterious man watching over it. Closing your eyes, you open the drawer and retrieve the envelope. Falling to the floor once you see that it’s blank again, with a single letter inside.

“I’ll watch you forever.”

Sincerely, The Watcher.

“Honey, the truck’s almost packed.”

“Yeah, just a minute.” You sing-song, staring at the mug you were about to place into the moving box. A strained smile stretches across your face as you think back to three months ago when you were unpacking all your little gadgets and trinkets, ready to settle into this house you once called home. That was a dream and like most dreams, it didn’t last too long. This place was now just a cause of your despair, it made you miserable.

After many sleepless night and restless days, you had decided to move out and try a start a new life somewhere else. Hopefully a place that could put you to ease - one that Hoseok could never reach. Taehyung wanted to move further north, which made you happy because you loved the cold.

Wait…you loved the cold? That’s not right, is it?

Also, it’s not like Hoseok could actually follow you. Because he…wait…how was it that he left you again? You know he left you – you keep repeating it to yourself, but you don’t remember him ever breaking up with you. He never really ‘physically’ broke up with you, did he?

There it was yet again. A loud obscurity corrupting your brain.

When suddenly, a realization comes over you.

Your head whirls towards the box you hovered over. You place the mug on the floor and begin to scrummage through the old box, searching for something specific. Glass protection. Once you feel the crinkly skin of paper, you take it out and smooth it over. The pounding in your head was back, and it was the strongest it has ever been.

Just as you thought, the paper had the familiar ink scribbles of an odd poem. It was a letter. Signed by The Watcher.

How could this be?

This paper was inside the box – you had used it for packing way before you ever stepped foot into this house. Yet for some reason, you can’t recall getting a letter from The Watcher before you moved in here. For a minute nothing made sense to you. It just felt like your conscious was off floating somewhere.

And then you looked up at the painted wall.

“I didn’t know you liked green at all.”

That’s because you don’t. No, of course you don’t, you like blue.

The one who likes green is-

A loud gasp leaves you as your behind makes contact with the floor. Every single thing comes crashing down at once, all the dots start to connect.

Hoseok likes green. Hoseok likes the cold.

Hoseok is…Hoseok is….

He’s dead.

He took his own life 6 years ago… he left you behind. It wasn’t him that’s been writing those letters-

“It was me.”

You forgot. No, you made yourself forget. Because there was no other way for you to cope. Instead of facing the truth, you repressed the memory of his death and then you began to haunt yourself using his image. Hoseok was a domineering force in your life and after possessing every inch of you till the point that there wasn’t a you without him, your mind was unable to comprehend his sudden departure. Tears began to roll down your face as you started to remember it all. Every moment you became ‘him’ and wrote those letters to yourself. You’ve done so for six whole years.

The reason why you’ve never evoked this before just now was the same reason as to why your trauma never became a problem for you until you moved into this house. It was because you just got married. Your mind had become fragile since his death, so shortly after writing and ‘mailing’ yourself these letters for comfort, you would read them and forget with ease, thanks to your isolation. But now that Taehyung was here – now that you were living with him, he became a witness to those letters and therefore gave them an ‘existence.’

He brought Hoseok back to ‘life’ in your brain.

It all made sense now. The headaches and the unbearable pain. You always knew there was something off but could never remember why. All those moments where you were scared of Hoseok, but never afraid of him showing up. Every time you pondered on the consequences of his being, rather than worry about him as a person at all. Only now, you’ve finally put the missing puzzle pieces together. Hoseok wasn’t watching you anymore…he couldn’t.

It was you, The Watcher.

You were the one keeping the monster alive. And you were the only one who could conclusively end him.

“___?” You hear the small, scared voice of your husband from the back. It seems like he heard your cries.

With a quick exhale, you turn around to face him. Looking at him straight in the eyes without any fear for the very first time. Your Tae, who deserved the truth no matter the cost.

“Taehyung…I have something I need to tell you.”

#bts #yandere bts #hoseok #yandere hoseok #hoseok angst #taehyung angst #hoseok x reader #bts x reader #yandere x reader #jung hoseok

251 notes · View notes

takinghisbow · 2 years

Text

@ahogedetective asked: ❝ "I had such a fun time at the Christmas Party, Kokichi! Thank you again for inviting me to spend it together with your family." The two had just arrived back home from the party. The initial nerves he had about making a good first impression at first, completely wiped away once he realized that he didn't have to try so hard: that they were all laid-back and already knew he had to be a good person, to be their leader's boyfriend. That made him relax considerably, and was able to have a blast with everyone with the many things they surely did. And if they all liked the cookies he made and brought for everyone, then he was delighted.

"They were all such lovely people, as I knew they would be. And the food that you made was so good! I loved it. Thank you again for that... and for such a fun night in general." He hums, leaning in to give his boyfriend a soft kiss. Once they changed out of their clothes into their sleepwear, there was just one thing left: giving Kokichi his gifts. "Alright, Koki: I have some gifts for you...! They're right here." From the closet, Shuichi pulls out two wrapped gifts. One was a bit smaller than the other one, both wrapped in checkerboard pattern wrapping paper.

Holding them out to Kokichi, he tells him: "Here you go...! I hope you'll love them." The smaller present would reveal to be a bag charm plushie shaped like a cat. Specifically, an orange-and-white colored Japanese Shorthair Bobtail cat. "Ehehe, I tried to find one that looked really similar to Beignet! So I really happy to find this: i-if you'd like, you can put it on your bag! And then, ah... for your next gift....I-I actually made it, myself...."

He softly mutters, twiddling his fingers with a shy smile on his face. The second gift would reveal a handmade scarf. It was similar to the one Kokichi normally wears, except its colors were purple and black. The cloth was made of a soft texture, and was long enough to utilize like a scarf to keep warm, or worn as a bandana. "I made you a scarf... ! How does it feel? I wanted to make it feel very soft and warm... and to implement our colors in it, hence why I chose purple and black, e-ehe... ah, and one more thing: turn it around. I... added a special little addition at the bottom..." His smile brightens, clasping his hands together. If Kokichi looks at the bottom part, he will see that Shuichi made the DICE symbol, too. "T-To make it even more personal for you..! Hopefully I made the symbol look nice... but yeah, I hope these are wonderful surprises for you, Kokichi! You made tonight for me one of the most fun Christmas nights I've ever had, and so I want to make your night extra great, too."

"That, and... my beloved supreme leader deserves nothing but the best. And to always be happy. I love you, Kokichi. And Merry Christmas... thank you again for such a wonderful night. I'll cherish the great time we had with everyone and each other today, forever..." Giving him a smile and gaze dripping with warmth and love, Shuichi leans in to give him a slow, loving kiss, arms wrapped around him in a gentle hold as he nuzzles their foreheads together. ( hehe, this got a liiittle long, hope you don't mind that!! Merry Christmas~!! 🎄✨ )

The Christmas party had gone even better than expected. Although some had been a little skeptical when Kokichi had mentioned inviting his detective boyfriend, they had quickly changed their mind once he was there. Shuichi had made a good impression on them, and Kokichi couldn’t have been happier. He still had a bounce in his step the whole way home.

Shedding his coat once inside, he grinned at Shuichi. “Good, because I did too!” Hearing Shuichi refer to them as his family was strange, but it wasn’t inaccurate. Still, despite that, they wouldn’t see him around by the end of the next week. While everyone else spent the New Year’s celebrations with family, he would spend it avoiding the holiday aggressively.

Once he was in a pair of tacky Christmas pajamas, sat cross-legged on the bed, he knew where the night was going. His own gift to Shuichi was hidden in his pajama pocket. “Everyone ate super good between what I cooked, your cookies, and Yukiji’s kushiage! All of DICE is gonna want those cookies again, so you better be prepared to make them again next time.” He giggled behind his hand—he wasn’t lying at all.

“Gifts!” Kokichi exclaimed with all the excitement of someone who totally hadn’t known what was coming. He eagerly pulled the smaller box closer, pausing to grace Shuichi with a much softer smile. He didn’t know what was inside, but he knew that Shuichi understood him. A thought confirmed when he tore into the first gift and found the little bag charm. The tiny charm, so similar to Beignet, instantly made his heart thud against his chest. Shuichi could have got him something cute but generic (and Kokichi would have still loved it), but he had gone out of his way to get something special. “You’re so lame, Shumai,” Kokichi said as if he wasn’t clutching the charm to his chest, a bright smile on his face. “But this is the perfect offering to me and Beignet!” What a roundabout way of saying, ‘thank you.’

He set the charm carefully on the nightstand, then grabbed the second box. “You made it?” Shuichi had made something for him? Ignoring the already faint heat rising in his cheeks, Kokichi tore past the wrapping paper, opened the gift and—

For a moment he was dead silent, then he slowly reached inside and pulled out the scarf. The material was soft beneath his fingertips, and the colors—”our colors.” He followed Shuichi’s instructions, finding the small DICE symbol. He fiddled with the scarf for a moment more before burying his face in it. By the time he peeked up over it, he was feigning anger despite damp eyes and a flushed face, “This is so mean! How are my gifts supposed to hold up against one this good? I’m gonna wear this all the time now!”

Despite his words, a moment later he had set the scarf aside and was walking on his knees toward Shuichi. He threw his arms around him, burying his face in the crook of Shuichi’s neck. No one had ever given him something quite like this. It meant more than he knew how to express, so he just clung to Shuichi for a good minute. “I love you too,” he said quietly when he leaned back. He accepted Shuichi’s kiss eagerly, pressing all of his devotion and gratitude into it.

Once the kiss broke, he gazed into Shuichi’s eyes for one long moment, before saying, “I know I gave you gifts earlier,” —a new notebook and a shirt Shuichi had mentioned wanting— “but I lied about that being all.” Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a small box. “I’m not proposing. Unless you want me to, in which case: I’m totally proposing.” Despite his joking, his tone and shaky hands made clear his nervousness. He handed the small box over. Inside was a ring, black with intricate details carved into it. When the light caught it just right, it appeared purple. On the inner part of the ring were the carefully carved words, “To my beloved.”

He took a deep breath, then spoke, “It’s probably dumb, but I-I—” He bit his tongue; only Shuichi could make him stammer like this. “I’m yours. Forever. And that’s proof.” He took a deep breath, then groaned, “That actually sounds a lot like a proposal. I guess it’s, like, a. . . couples ring? Except there’s only one. Please shut me up.”

#ahogedetective #[ christmas posts 🎄 ]#((SOBS))#((i actually got emotional i love this sm they're so sweet it's unbearable))#((also can u tell kokichi talks a lot when he's nervous fkdaskfhjdkhaf))#((kokichi seeing the scarf like 'guess i'm going to be wearing this every day for the rest of my life'))#((challenge: don't accidentally propose to your bf—FAILED))#[ may queue always be satisfied ]#—— ✧ ask »#˖ ✧ and it feels like home in your arms » ( kokichi/shuichi | ahogedetective )

7 notes · View notes

fu-aki · 4 years

Text

So this is going to be my attempt to summarize the newest episodes of the ghost marriage event (episode 14 to 24) of twisted wonderland. Part 1

Again, spoiler alert since I’m about to write out everything that happened, and I apologize for my grammar in advance.

You asked Ruggie if he would help -> he refused since Leona can just come back himself and he refuse to work for nothing -> you asked Jamil -> He refused, and he don’t allow Kalim to go either, if something happened to Kalim his whole family would be in danger -> you asked Silver -> He can’t go since he have to guard Malleus -> in the end, the ones volunteered to help are Rook, Epel, and Riddle -> Riddle helped because rule number 703 “the 2nd place in croquet has to make tea for the queen in the next day” -> Cater was the 2nd place from yesterday’s game -> so Riddle has to rescue him before today ends -> after a few “it’s fine we don’t need a useless coward” from Riddle, Ace decided to help too -> to perfect the plan, they went to Sam’s shop and got suits and bouquet -> both are enchanted by magic to help them

3 hours left till wedding -> Epel was late -> he showed up while riding a white horse so he looks more prince like -> the ghost ask them to say their proposal to show their seriousness -> Epel is up first

Epel: I will… definitely make the bride happy.

Epel: because I am the prince charming who will always rescue my beloved, no matter where they are! I will never give up no matter what kind of difficulties I face along the way. I will protect you from all harms. I shall be, the prince that matches the princess! Please, marry me!

-> next up is Ace

Ace: if you married me, everyday will be a happy day.

Ace: since we will be together forever, arguments might be unavoidable… but I will always be the person to apologize first. I will be with you for the worse or poorer times, and always put a smile on your face.

Ace: I will the prince that matches the princess, so…

Ace: don’t look the other way. Marry me please!

->next up is Riddle

Riddle: I will swear my loyalty, I promise for a future where I never harm or doubt you for any seconds.

Riddle: if it is for my beloved, I will do anything this body can do.

Riddle: so please… won’t you pick me as your spouse?

->next up is Rook

Rook: ---- beautiful you. Please make me your slave of love forever.

Rook: to think you are trapped in loneliness for hundreds of years, I want to give a poem to you.

Rook: ah! the princess of tragedy! I want to warm your cold cheek.

For how long have you drown in tears.

Those eyes, are blinded by it and weren’t even able to see happiness.

I will gentle cover it with my palm. Now you should be able to see it, yes, this is true love.

I shall light the lantern of hope, inside those lapis colored eyes.

->Ace commented how he felt embarrassed just by listen to it -> Riddle realized that connect the first word of every line you will get “I love you” (in original Japanese text) -> Grim commented how everyone in Pomefiore are pretty weird -> Epel “d,don’t lump me together with that!”

Rook is about to start another poem but the ghost said it’s enough -> but then he commented how they are still kind of short ->

Riddle got really upset, he used his unique magic and then burned the ghost up ->but it attracted other ghosts’ attention and they started to attack them -> Epel let the horse back so it won’t get injured -> so they decided to just run into the wedding hall instead -> in hallway, they were attacked by many ghosts, so Riddle decided to stay behind to stall the ghosts

In wedding hall -> Idia “ ‘Idia used fled’ ‘it’s not effective since he’s stunned’ …some healer please help! I do not have debuff clear skill!” -> a ghost runs in and said some people are trying to forcibly enter -> Jack “in the end they used brute force after all!” -> Azul “who said the plan was to steal the bride’s heart in the beginning again?” -> Cater “I bet 1 bread, that Riddle is the one that got upset first.” -> Floyd “aha, I can see that—then I’ll bet 2 bread on the same side~” -> Jade “that won’t be a bet anymore.” -> Cater “that’s true~!” -> everyone “hahahahaha.” -> Idia “my life is on the line and you can still laugh and talk?!” -> the ghost swear they won’t let intruders to ruin the wedding after princess wished for it for so long.

On stairway -> more ghosts showed up, and Rook decided to stay behind this time -> Ace is worried -> Epel told him to look at Rook’s expression ->

Rook “I’ve always been wondering how you can hunt ghosts! They don’t seem to have a body, so maybe I can freeze them with magic? Or are they more like fog? Can I put them in a bottle? Ah my hunter blood is boiling for those unknown preys…!” -> ghosts “s… stay away from me!” -> Ace “…he looks like he’s having fun.” ->

In wedding ceremony -> the ghosts started the wedding vow, but they are so touched that they started crying -> Deuce “we need to stop this somehow!” -> Sebek “but we still can’t move our body!” -> Floyd “I’m tired.” -> Floyd “we can go home if she kissed firefly squid senpai right? Hurry up and do it~~” -> Lilia “he’s right, my back hurts after stand in same position for so long. Just hurry up and give her a smooch.” -> Sebek “Lilia sama has said it! Hurry up and give her the ‘smooch’!” -> Idia “smooch! …If I did that I will die! Are you all demons? Do you not have a human heart? Is this an exhibition for ruthlessness??!?!??”

Outside -> many ghosts showed in front of Ace Epel again -> Epel stepped up -> but the ghosts aren’t attacking him -> ghost “you are the neighboring country’s princess right? Are you here to attend the wedding?” -> ghost “oh princess, please stay away from that violent intruder! Hurry up and come here…” -> Epel “who…”

Epel “WHO ARE YOU CALLING A PRINCESS--------!!!!!” -> Epel stayed behind to fight the ghosts

In wedding ceremony -> everyone “kiss! Ki--------ss!!” -> Idia “STOP THE CALLING!!!” -> Lilia “we can’t move anything but our mouth, can’t really do anything and we are bored.” -> Eliza(the ghost princess) “ah, it’s almost midnight… the time for the kiss! After that, I will be forever with Idia in the land of the dead. I, could finally be happy…!” -> “WAIT A SECOND----------!!!!” -> it was Ace -> many ghosts started to attack him and ask the princess to kiss Idia now to finish the wedding -> Idia refuse -> Ace “look at Idia. He hated it so much and is moving every muscle on his face to avoid it. You guys all know your princess made a mistake right!” ->

ghosts “…it was all for the princess. She was so kind and bright, every citizen wishes her the best future, but… suddenly the neighboring country attacked, and everything is gone in one night. We weren’t able to protect her, but the princess never blamed us and she’s always smiling and saying ‘it’s fine. Don’t worry about it. It’s fine. I’m sure someday…’, but there’s no way that she’s fine! Waiting for a prince for 500 years, I can’t imagine how many times have she despaired. We just want to grant 1 single wish of our favorite princess. Our… most important, poor, princess.” -> (player choice: “but you are only increasing the number of poor people.” / “but it’s not good to bother other people.”) -> Ace “haha! MC is right. Besides, there’s no way princess’s ‘perfect prince’ exist. All of you ghosts are just feeding her false hope and made her look for someone that don’t exist for 500 years. I feel like I’ve seen this situation before but… if you feel so bad for her and treat her like glass, that is not consideration at all! You are just having fun while avoid to facing her!” -> Trey “that kind of hurts…” -> Cater “ahaha-…” -> Ace “teach the princess properly! Most important thing about the groom isn’t the look.” -> Eliza “then… how am I supposed to pick the prince beside the look?” -> Ace “I told you, don’t think ‘prince’ as a must. The perfect spouse should be…”

Ace “The person you want to cry and laugh together, the person you want to be together no matter the hard time … someone like that. Don’t make me say something so embarrassing!”

Ace “no one around teaches her something as simple as that? even though you have been with her for 500 years… you basically did nothing for her!” -> Riddle, Rook, and Epel finally showed up. -> Deuce “dorm leader, you are here to save us right! Thank you so…” -> Riddle “Cater! What time is it!?” -> Cater “eh? Emm… the clock said it’s 23:35.” -> Riddle “there’s no time… we have to defeat the ghosts now!” -> Cater “what? What was that?” -> the ghosts are hesitating -> Rook “there’s still time to change now, you don’t want your most important madame angel to become a bad ghost that killed someone right?” -> Eliza “bad ghost? …is he talking about me? I didn’t want to become a bad ghost… I just…!” -> Chubby (one of the ghost) “there’s no need to listen. Princess. You did nothing wrong.” -> Eliza “Chubby…” -> Epel “do you still not understand your own mistakes!?” -> Chubby “mistakes, whatever, I don’t mind. I just want to make the princess happy no matter what. That is my regret… and my wish!” -> Chubby started gained more power -> Rook “this is bad, everyone, get to somewhere safe!” -> Vil “didn’t I told you that we can’t move.” -> Rook “ah that’s right, then… Epel! MC! Roll everyone away like a log!” -> Epel “understood!” -> rolling time -> fighting time

Chubby is defeated, and everyone is planning to put the ring of extinction on Eliza -> Ace “now, what’s your last word? You can say farewell to your beloved Idia…” ->

the princess runs to Chubby -> Eliza “Chubby… to think you would protect me from bad guys, and become injured like this…” -> Ace “bad guys? …is she talking about us!?” -> Chubby “princess, there’s no need to be sad. It’s my happiness to see your smile…” -> Chubby starts to disappear -> Eliza “no… no, please don’t go! I was able to chase my dreams because of your kind encouragement. I need you! Ah… that’s right. I finally understand it now. My real prince is… Chubby, you!” -> Chubby “Princess… Eliza. Me too, I’ve always adored you ever since I was alive.” -> Eliza “Chubby… I love you.” -> she gives him a kiss -> all of his injures are healed -> Eliza “it’s definitely the power of love!” -> Ace “eh…? What…? What is this? Am I the only one that’s not following this at all?” -> Riddle “no matter how you look we are the bad guy now…” -> Eliza apologized to Idia and announced she’s going to marry her real true love, Chubby -> Idia “why do I feel like I’m dumped even though I was never even confessed!?” -> everyone can move now -> Riddle and Cater runs back to dorm to make tea -> Ace “well, isn’t this great. We don’t need to force you to the other world.” -> Eliza “Yes, after this we are going to our honeymoon.” -> Ortho “it will finally be peaceful in here.” -> Idia “ah—this is too much. Honestly too much, I think I’m going to have ghostphobia.” -> Eliza “next year we will be back with a cute baby, I can’t wait!” -> everyone “don’t come back again--------!!!!”

The ghosts all disappeared

Crowley: today really was a tough day. But at least, the trouble is solve…

Rook: wait a second, headmaster.

Rook: isn’t here something else that is much more fitting for this story?

Crowley: that is true, ahem…

Crowley: the two lived happily ever after.

Honestly though this event is real fun, nice fan service in the middle with the proposal, and the interaction of everyone who got slapped and Idia is just way too funny. The little twist is also fun with princess and Chubby... honestly is his name actually chubby? I couldn’t believe it at first but that’s the only word I could think of that sounds like チャビー

Tbh I tried to change around Rook’s poem so it works in English but then I realized that I would have to start sentences with letters like v,e,u so small brain me decided to just translate it literally instead

469 notes · View notes

rachellelie · 3 years

Text

A Romantica Wedding

A little late, but here's another fic for @romanticaweek! Feel free to read on A03. There is also a fic on their engagement over there! Prompt- Silence/Party. (A wedding is basically a party, right?)

It was time. He turned to look at himself in the floor-length mirror that sat in the room. He had spent the last hour or so getting ready. He was dressed in an all-white tuxedo now, fidgeting with the lapels on the suit jacket. He turned around to find his brother standing there, tears filling his eyes. He held out his elbow for him. “Are you ready?” He whispered. He offered a trembling smile and nodded.

They walked outside of the venue-a fancy building that contained multiple, spacious rooms and was decorated with white lace, fairy lights, and flowers throughout. They walked down the steps that led towards an aisle, multiple chairs sat on either side and there was a white runner that led from the stairs and continued on. Everything outside was a vibrant green; luscious grass with nearby tall, stunningly green forest trees. and the sky above was a striking blue.

Standing in front of the chairs on either side of the aisle were their guests consisting of friends and family. Among those in the front few rows included his sister-in-law, as well as his lover's parents. Next to whom was the rest of his lover’s family who consisted of his brother, and his cousins. In the few rows behind them were their friends and co-workers, an editor, their boss and his assistant, a childhood friend, and his guest, and another recently made friend from college.

Misaki Takahashi and his brother, Takahiro Takahashi, came to the start of the aisle and stopped. He watched as Takahiro encouraged his son, Mahiro to walk down the aisle ahead of them. He was carrying the teddy bear he and his lover, Usagi-san, lived with, Suzuki san, in his arms. The bear was dressed in a tuxedo outfit, dressed for the occasion, and tied to Suzuki-sans bow were two wedding rings. Officially. Mahiro was the ring bearer, but of course-hearing that word, ring bearer, Usagi couldn’t let it go and so it had been decided to let Mahiro carry the giant teddy bear so that Mahiro and Suzuki-san were both the ring bearer. They watched as Mahiro waddled down the aisle, giant teddy bear in tow.

In the center of the chairs, the aisle was covered with a white, lacy fabric cover which came to a set of small steps. The steps led to the platform, where a wedding arch stood in the center, it was white and full of various colorful flowers. Beyond that, there appeared to be a cliff, where the sound of crashing waves against the mountainside could be heard faintly.

At the end of the aisle, underneath the wedding arch, in its very center stood a pair of older gentlemen. One of them wore ceremonious robes and had a book in his hand- the wrinkles around his eyes crinkled as he smiled. Misaki recognized him as the man he usually referred to as Sebastian, even though he was actually named Tanaka, and there he stood, waiting to officiate the ceremony.

Misaki’s eyes flitted from Tanaka and landed on the man who stood in front of him; his lover. There stood Usagi, who was dressed in an all-black suit; he turned to watch as Misaki appeared at the end of the aisle. And how he smiled.

Misaki’s heart fluttered at the sight of his lover smiling at him at the end of a wedding aisle. He still couldn’t quite believe that he wasn’t dreaming. He felt his brother tighten his hold on his arm, squeezing him reassuringly. He squeezed back.

Misaki inhaled once. Exhaled. And stepped forward. Towards his future.

Towards the person who he had fallen in love with. Who he was now choosing to spend his next year with, and the year after and all the years after that…

As he approached he noticed the smiles and adoration on all of their guests' faces. His heart swelled at how many of them were here, supporting them and rooting for their relationship. It hadn’t occurred to him how obvious it had been to everyone they knew that he and Usagi were dating. He remembered breaking the news to each of them.

“Misaki and I are getting married,” Usagi stated matter-of-factly to anyone who would listen. Their responses went like this:

“Well, it’s about time!” Minami said proudly as her husband's eyes filled with tears.

“My little brother is growing up! Misaki, listen to me! If he ever hurts you in any way I’ll be sure to return the favor!”

And

“Finally, when’s the wedding? What should I bring?” Kaoruko exclaimed, all ready to go into planning mode.

“You can bring me….” Mizuki muttered under his breath; she whacked him in the back of his hand with a “Hmph!” In the end, they had appeared together, sitting by side. She had also presented them with the gift of baking their wedding cake.

And

“Congrats Chibi-tan! Just don’t take too long on your honeymoon…Akihiko still has deadlines to meet…”

“AAAHHHH!!! I’m so happy for the both of you…now about where that new chapter is sensei-”

Now they all stood, staring straight at him. He blushed profusely as he felt his heart jump into his throat. He was grateful he had his brother’s arm to steady him. They were closer now.

Closer…

Closer..

Closer.

And just like that, they had reached the end of the aisle.

Takahiro patted his hand and leaned over to kiss his head, smiling as he pull away, his eyes brimming with tears. He turned to sit next to his wife in the front row, who was now corralling their son and the bear he was holding for the time being.

He stepped up the small steps and took his spot standing straight across from Usagi, who met his eyes then. He was staring at him as if he was the only person in the world and Misaki’s heart flip-flopped.

Misaki smiled shyly, “Hi,” He breathed, unsure of himself.

“Hi,” Usagi smiled, and it was bright.

Everyone took their seats and Tanaka started to speak. “Dearly beloved…” His voice droned on, and Misaki was barely listening now. His mind was racing in anticipation of what was coming next and focusing on the man in front of him. Usagi cocked his head to the side and stared at him adoringly with a slight smile on his face. Misaki vaguely registered Tanaka saying the words “vows.”

He started to speak, “Misaki, I love you. Loving you is my everything. And if you let me, I’ll spend all my years with you, this year, next year, the year after, and all the years after that. Forever. All that I ask is that you stay by my side. “

“Are you making fun of me?” Misaki blanched his nerves on high alert now.

Usagi smiled and shook his head, “Not at all.” He stated in that calm, endearing voice of his.

Then, it was Misaki’s turn. “Um,” He started, because he was such a smooth talker. “I…I’m not very good at words or saying the right thing. But, I know that…I just want…to stay by your side. If that’s ok with you. And that…if that happens then...we'll be alright. We’ll always be alright.”

The ceremony proceeded on and they were instructed to exchange rings. They took the rings from Suzuki-sans bow and followed the instructions to place them on each other’s hands. They were matching rings, Usagi-sans engagement one had stayed the same - saying he wanted nothing else because that one was so precious. He had gotten a matching one for Misaki the next day. They were simple gold bands, with two teddy bear heads on them (resembling Suzuki-san), and a heart overlapping them. The inscription engraved on the inside matched as well, “this year, next year, the year after, and all the years after that.”

As they placed the rings on each other’s fingers, a light sprinkle of rain started falling from the sky. It was a bright and sunny day, so it was a bit shocking to feel the cool water against the warm sun. They all looked up towards the sky, some of them holding out their hands for the rain to fall upon them.

In the middle of the sunshine and rain, just beyond the cliff off in the distance, there was a newly formed rainbow. It sat perfectly between the couple who were now holding each other's hands out in front of them, their wedding bands sparkling in the sun. And they laughed, feeling an overwhelming sense of happiness.

As soon as it had arrived, the rain began to subside, only leaving the rainbow behind in its wake along with the refreshing scent of rain and pine. Not a cloud was in sight. They continued on, and as Usagi took a step towards him, Misaki felt his heartbeat furiously in his chest.

“I now pronounce you…married. You may now kiss your husband.” And he did just that. Usagi cupped his chin, tilting it up towards him, and kissed him tenderly, lovingly, adoringly. So much so, that Misaki thought he was going to drown in his love for him.

***

#junjou romantica #romanticaweek #fic #fanfic #marriage #writing #my writing #words

12 notes · View notes

nicketynic · 3 years

Text

between the shadow and the soul (1/1)

Hey fam!! Guess whose laptop is back from four weeks of computer quarantine (a.k.a. two weeks of fix-up and a godawful amount of time in the mail)!!

This was originally intended for @jonsa-valentine. Originally a ~2,000 word take on a Robb Lives, Jon/Sansa falls in love despite her arranged Southron marriage, this grew and grew as I scribbled endlessly in my notebook.

Enjoy!!

“Jon, you shouldn’t be here,” Sansa hissed fiercely as her leisurely stroll through a Redwyne vineyard was interrupted by her lover appearing suddenly from behind a vine-covered trellis. Outraged worry quickly replaced startlement as she took in his appearance: tousled, hurried, still clad in riding leathers. The reckless abandon of it all left her furious. “Have you even presented yourself at Redwyne Hall?”

“No,” Jon baldly confessed, shamelessly sidestepping her outrage as he shed his cloak and pulled her close. “I came straight from the harbor.”

Despite herself, Sansa went unresisting into his embrace, twining her arms around his neck and guiding him deeper into the thicket of grapevines. “Luck must be with you, then. Willas and his uncle are spending the day in Ryamsport, otherwise your absence would be noticed immediately.”

“Or a few well-placed silver stags will delay my arrival being announced until near the evening meal,” he countered, leaning in to nuzzle into her neck.

The rough rasp of his beard and the weathered skin underneath, the calluses on his hands as he entwined them with hers a shock of sensory delight to her system. Pressing her cheek to his and breathing him in, she realized with appreciation that he must have stopped to bathe in Oldtown, lacking as he was the stench of horse and days-old sweat. Beneath an overlay of leather and seasalt instead lingered the fresh, clean scents of pine and snow. Home, her blood and heart and soul all whispered in unison, as she pressed closer and blinked away the prick of tears.

Gods, she had missed him...missed Winterfell, missed the North. Sansa had gotten everything she was dreamed of, a chivalrous husband and a life full of Southron fancy, but she wanted none of it. She longed instead for evergreen and snow and solemn, long Stark faces. She wished for Jon, the embodiment of everything her heart longed for, everything she knew of comfort and love.

As kind and chivalrous as Willas Tyrell had proven to be, as well as he continued to treat her, there was nothing she could do to change the truth of her feelings. She and Willas could have been Florian and Jonquil reborn, and still it would have come to no good end. Sansa Stark’s heart belonged to another, given away long before the Highgarden heir had ever cloaked her in green velvet and golden roses. She felt near-forgotten parts of her sparking alive everywhere Jon’s touch lingered, previously gone dormant under long months of Willas’ absent courtesy. Sansa had no true cause to complain as her husband’s attention was cast more upon his hawks, his horses, and his correspondence with a certain Dornish prince, but it was easy for loneliness to take root in the cracks of their relationship, lacking as she was any real bond connecting her to Highgarden.

Three years without an heir sent plenty a Reacher tongue wagging, but both spouses duly ignored the ensuing gossip. His gaze turned firmly to the south, hers to the north, but they shared a common longing for the approaching summer. Summer brought the tourney season, inspiring the Red Viper and his paramour to journey beyond the Red Mountains. Summer stirred Winterfell’s king to send a trusted proxy to the Reach, protecting the vital grain trade cemented by Sansa’s marriage contract.

Having expected to see Jon in Oldtown in the role of that proxy, a week out yet as Willas wished to visit with his Redwyne relatives before they were due to attend the celebrations for Old Lord Leyton’s seventieth nameday, it should hardly be a surprise that Sansa should be startled and confused with her former lover’s sudden appearance.

Either ignorant or ignorable of her inner turmoil, Jon sighed her name, pressing soft, sweet kisses to her collarbone, her neck, her jaw, and her cheek as he raised his head to face her. “Sansa…”

“You’re mad,” she began, stopping when he winced and quickly corrected herself to avoid referencing the Targaryen heritage he found so abhorrent. “You’re foolish to have taken such a risk,” she finished chidingly, though her hands proved traitorous as they played with the hair at his nape and stroked his neck, soothingly away the reprimand. “You truly couldn’t wait for Oldtown?”

The touch grounded him, tempted as he was to take the rebuke as rejection and back away. Instead, he breathed out slowly, meeting her eyes with determination rather than chagrin. “I’m a fool, aye, mayhaps even more a fool than the Ser Florian of your songs. But I beg of you,” He tipped his forehead against hers, holding her gaze imploringly. “Here, in this moment, don’t send me away. I’ve missed you so desperately. I feel as if I’ve been cleaved in half everytime we part ways.”

“Jon…” Lifting onto the tips of her toes brought her lips to his and she let the kiss linger, slow and sweet as the first tentative touch they had shared years ago, the eve before she was due to depart for White Harbor to wed Willas in the Sept of the Snows. A clandestine meeting in the godswood to share a private goodbye had spiralled out of their control, as they surrendered to every forbidden longing overshadowed by her kingly brother’s negotiations with the Reach to get their people through a long winter, Sansa’s hand the bargaining chip key to secure the necessary grain trade.

For her people, Sansa chose to do her duty, but first sought one last thing for herself. That night, she lay with Jon in the shadow of Winterfell's heart tree, rising again in the hour before dawn hiding away the gentle, fanciful maiden part of her to become the stern, dutiful woman set to marry Highgarden's heir.

Pulling back at the need for breath, Sansa’s eyes were warm and full as she gazed up at her love. “Jon," she breathed. “Stay with me.”

He kissed her again, fumbling with his clothes as his hands were trembling, joy and desperation coursing through him like a maelstrom. “I’m here,” he whispered shakily against her skin as he kissed her throat, her breast as he loosened her corset and let her dress fall. “I’m here.”

Surrounded by the subtle sweetness of blooming grape clusters (so different from the cloying rose aromas permeating Highgarden, much to Sansa’s relief), they lay together upon the traveling cloak Jon had so carelessly shed. Rich, damp earth was soft beneath his elbows and knees, the sun warm against his backside as he kicked his breeches aside and leaned over her lithe form. His lips were soft as a butterfly’s kiss as he traced the constellations of freckles on her skin, clever fingers finding every secret spot guaranteed to elicit a sigh or moan. Her body sang with pleasure by the time she pulled him close and wrapped her legs around his hips, welcoming him into her body.

And as he moved above her, she kept her eyes on his face, tracing over his beloved features, his flushed complexion, the wrinkle in his brow as he concentrated on finding the right rhythm to please them both. Committing him to memory, she slowly let down the guard keeping the dreamy maiden at bay, and it was hope and love enveloping her, practicality hidden away, when he began to show signs of his impending peak. Cinching her legs and arms tight around him, she held him fast when he attempted to withdraw, something they would have never dared that night in the godswood. But Sansa knew his visit couldn’t last forever, and she would be so very, very lonely again when he was gone. “Stay with me,” she urged once more against his lips, swallowing his startled yelp in a kiss as he tensed and stilled, finding his release inside her.

And just like the flourishing vineyard around them, seed took root and slowly began to blossom.

As magic slowly faded from the world after the calamity of the Second War for the Dawn, the seasons falling into a pattern necessitated new alliances between all the kingdoms involved. Two years of winter would follow every three of summer, so on and so forth until cooperative trade was the key to survival.

From then on, when the snows melted and spring finally arrived in full bloom, the future Lord and Lady Tyrell began an extended tour around the Reach and surrounding regions, visiting family and popular tourney spots, building relationships and connections. If they crossed paths with Willas’ dear friend Prince Oberyn more often than not, and Sansa was able to enjoy her cousin Jon’s company during his journey to and from Highgarden as King Robb’s envoy, the coincidence was all the happier for all involved.

Surrounded by the sultry heat of a Southron summer, it was easy for most to forget that Sansa Tyrell was Sansa Stark, Daughter of Winterfell. But the reminder would always arrive when autumn's chill crept in and Lady Sansa's middle began to swell. Babes conceived in summer they may have been, but it was the winter of their birth that left its mark. Edwyn and his storm-grey eyes, little Alya with her Stark coloring; even sweet Minisa and spirited Brynden, fully Tully in looks, were Northern steel through and through when pushed passed their courtesies.

The years rolled by, marked by passages of joy and pain, contentment and heartache. Seasons changed, politics shifted, children grew, and Sansa and Jon became Lady Tyrell and Lord Snow respectively.

Just shy of her forty-fifth nameday, Sansa Tyrell leisurely strolled through the Beesbury family gardens, arm-in-arm with her beloved cousin, Lord Snow. Strong on the languid breeze was the thick scent of honeysuckle and the lazy swell of the Honeywine river, as Sansa cast reminiscent glances toward her companion through the fall of her lashes.

The arm beneath her fingers was firm and muscular as ever, but Jon had grown adorably sheepish about the softening of his middle over the years, the silver shot through his hair and beard, the craggy lines left by hard winters. Sansa herself was well aware of the marks age and children had left, but it was easy to dismiss those insecurities when her mind was full with memories of the night before.

The humid heat of the summer night had bogged down on them, clinging simply to their skin even as they clung closer to one another. Kisses tasted of warmth and sunlight, lingering gifts from the setting sun they'd made love beneath. Under the pallid luminescence of the night, her lover was a pale, solemn thing, meant for winter moons and cold starlight, but it was summer that gave them their union, and summer that touched the taste of their kisses, southron heat he gladly faced just to touch her once more. Cast with the warm glow of a full-faced summer moon, there was no mistaking the naked adoration and hunger those wintry eyes regarded her with, the same amorous gaze he’d given her at sixteen and twenty and thirty.

Once more in daylight, they practiced considerably more restraint, but it was with a mellow contentment that they walked together. Sansa was reluctant to break the peaceful silence between them, but they only had so much remaining privacy before duty forced them to part company once more. Houses Tyrell and Florent were now kin through Edwyn's marriage to the lovely and clever Mara, and so when Lord Beesbury wished to host a small tourney to celebrate his daughter’s betrothal to Mara’s brother Rycherd, all related houses happily donated further funds to make it a grander event for all to attend. Honeyholt was consequently buzzing with activity akin to the hives it was named for, and Sansa and Jon finding a private moment had been a miracle unto itself.

"Have you spoken yet to Brynden?" she inquired softly, watching him thoughtfully as they turned a corner between two appleblossom trees. He winced slightly, and she gave his arm a sympathetic squeeze, remembering how nervous he'd been when they discussed the matter the night before.

Jon heaved a heavy sigh, giving her a sheepish glance. "I have. I addressed the...situation this morning." A small, fond smile curled his lips, almost despite himself given his anxiety. "We were both eager to escape the formalities. It would have been remiss not to bring him along for my morning ride."

Sansa's returning smile was equally as fond and warm. "He favors you more and more every day," are the words she longed to say, but would never dare to do so in such a public setting. Instead, when she spoke aloud, it was to comment, "Bryn would live on horseback if I only allowed him. Wolf blood, I believe Father once called it." My blood. Your blood. Stark blood. He is every bit your son, Jon.

"But wolf blood or not," she continued gently, "He holds to the Tully words as well as his namesake. How did he respond to your offer?"

Jon sighed, softly and wistfully, resting a hand over the one tucked against his forearm. "He wasn't displeased, at least. I'm not certain the surprise ever wore off by the time we returned to the stable." He smiled wanly. "He asked for time to think. I suppose a crumbling old castle and a bastard’s name cannot compare to what Highgarden can offer."

"Jon," she sighed, the soft, tender tone to his name as close as she could come to the "my love" she wished to truly express. "You cannot truly believe any of that. A second son of a Reacher house can hardly hope for more than the tourney circuit. No boy with so much North in his heart could ever be happy as a pampered Southron knight."

A ghost of a smile appeared on Jon's face, and she pressed on. "I've hardly known Robb to be as much a braggart as he was in his letters about the restoration of Wolf's Den. He was so proud to present it to you. To honor you, Jon, in thanks for everything you've given."

"An honor I was hardly worthy of," he murmured darkly, an echo of the guilt and shame he wouldn't be Jon without. As much as he loved her, every time he lay with a married woman, the cousin he was pledged to protect and respect, he felt he violated Robb and her late father's trust in him, rendering his honor a tainted, broken thing he could no longer be proud of.

“Jon.” Bringing them to a firm stop next to a large flowering bush, grasping his forearms so that he would face her, she held his eyes intently. "You're one of the most honorable men I've ever known. Beyond that, you're kind, loyal, and dutiful to your core. How is that not a legacy Brynden would be proud to inherit?"

At that very moment, however, all thoughts of legacy, inheritance, and choice were driven out of Brynden Tyrell's head when he was knocked hard into the dirt, courtesy of his older brother, whose smirking face appeared into his field of vision along with an extended hand.

Heaving a sigh, he accepted Edwyn's hand, pulled firmly to his feet with a pat to his shoulder. A broad grin cut through Edwyn’s thick auburn beard, a low chuckle accompanying his teasing. "Didn't I tell you enough when we were boys to keep your shield up? Get distracted again, and I'll-"

"Ring my head like a bell," Brynden finished irritably, all too familiar with the phrase after a childhood of training with his brother. Eight years his senior and gifted with the stocky Tully frame, Edwyn had more often than not pummelled the lesson into him, but given Brynden’s undeniable skill with the blade now that he was nearly grown, he couldn’t deny the effectiveness of his brother’s teaching.

A round of musical laughter and mocking applause from the sidelines drew a glare and a reprimanding side-eye from the brothers. Alya remained unrepentant, smirking and giggling. Perched on a fence post, one knee drawn up to her chin and her free leg swinging back and forth, she appeared more of a restless child than a young woman on the brink of sixteen.

“Enough, Aly,” Edwyn firmly rebuked, the disapproval in his low tenor difficult to ignore by the younger siblings who so looked up to him.

Deciding that mocking her twin wasn't worth drawing Edwyn's wrath, she snapped her mouth shut against the slew of creative insults she had planned. Instead, she cocked her head curiously toward Brynden. “What has you so distracted, little brother? Even Sanny would have seen that blow coming.”

Brynden didn’t bother to hold back from glowering at his sister for that particular insult, as Sanny was the family nickname for Sansara, Edwyn and Mara’s three-year-old daughter. “If you must know, Uncle Jon asked me to go riding this morning…”

After finishing his narrative of everything that had happened that morning, Brynden was left faced with his brother’s expression, so thoroughly dumbfounded the younger wasn’t certain how to decipher the mood. Before he could begin to question, a sharp clout landed hard against the back of his head.

"Seven hells!" he yelped, protectively clutching the throbbing base of his skull as his ears rang and his head spun. He glared at his sister as darkly as capable through the pained pinch of his eyes.

"You're a complete and utter idiot," Alya hissed into his face, apathetic to the damage she'd caused in the face of her fury. “Uncle Jon offered to take you North, give you his name, and make you his heir! You have to think about it?!”

“Taking on a bastard’s name doesn’t require the slightest bit of thought?” Brynden scornfully shot back, immediately shamefaced and regretful before the words had even left his mouth. Alya’s stormy eyes lit with fury, looking ready to strike him all over again, Edwyn the very face of paternal disappointment.

Opening his mouth to apologize, he was cut off by Alya storming up to him and grabbing a fistful of his hair, jerking his head around and forcing him down until her mouth was level with his ear. "Don't presume to forget the truth of your own origins, Brynden Flowers." The low hiss of her voice was barely audible save for the sheer vehemence of her tone. "Be glad it was love that birthed you, and not the wrong side of some spoiled lordling's bedsheet."

Warring between shock and offense, Brynden could only stare at his sister, disbelieving that she would ever again dare to give voice to such a poisonous idea. He was so certain they left that ugliness behind years ago, fracturing their relationship in sacrifice to keep their world from crashing down around them.

They were twelve the night Alya appeared in his bedchamber, exuberant with the breathless excitement of a newly-discovered secret, words rambling together with a speed he struggled to keep up with. But still, that understanding did begin to bloom, as did the chill of fear climbing up his spine. Anxious panic clawed at his insides, nausea settling in as he looked up and recognized the glitter of excitement in his twin’s eyes.

She was so certain now that she had the answers, to all the questions she hadn’t been able to let go of the older they grew. Why none of them showed a trace of Tyrell save their name, why Father was never unkind but always distant, why Uncle Jon wrote so frequently and remained so affectionate and warm no matter how grown they became, despite only being a second cousin.

What was there to be excited about, if such a ghastly secret was true? There were as many pricked and ready ears hidden around Highgarden as there were roses, and there were plenty of those sickly pungent blossoms to be found around the castle and surrounding estate. The stain of bastardry aside, forgetting the loss of their inheritance and names, Brynden would fight tooth and nail to never see their mother pay the price for such a revelation.

How easily had Alya forgotten their lessons, to not realize the consequences of the Faith being so central to the Reach? Was it truly so difficult to remember Cersei Lannister’s disgrace, or Bethany Bracken’s death sentence? Even as the best-case scenario, if discovering he was a childless cuckold didn’t transform the mild-mannered Willas Tyrell into someone unrecognizable, the most they could expect was for Mother to be dismissed back to the North as a adulteress, taking her children with her bearing the name “Snow.” The shame and the ridicule would follow her, blacken her name and reputation, for the rest of her days. Would their kingly uncle welcome her home, or would he be ashamed and turn them away?

Was it worth ruining all their lives just because Alya needed there to be a reason behind Uncle Jon’s love?

Those fears swirling around his mind, culminating in a maddening mantra for Alya to just shut up and think about what she was doing, Brynden had reached out to roughly grab her arms, give her a harsh, violent shake, and order in a low, guttural growl he couldn’t recognize that she would never, ever say these things again.

He came back to himself a moment later to find a stricken, betrayed look deep in his twin’s winter eyes. Nausea and horror welled up inside him, as hardened steel replaced the pain and she spat at him, jerking herself away to disappear into the night.

It was the last time she looked at him with anything lighter than mockery. And mockery it seemed to be now, making a mockery of the sacrifice he made to keep them safe. His nostrils flared, his fists clenched, his mouth opening to respond-

Thud!

Edwyn’s practice sword hit the ground hard as his patience finally snapped, striding forward until his siblings were within arm’s length. Strong hands grabbed the teenagers by the scruffs of their necks, with just enough firmness that wriggling free would be uncomfortable, and whirled them around to face him, stern mien only emphasized by the dark intensity filling his eyes. “Enough! The two of you will stop this incessant squabbling and remember that you are family and pack, or so help me, I will chain you together for the rest of your natural lives.”

His face softened and he sighed. “You’re not getting anywhere continuing to hide from each other. Speak, and listen. Alya, tell him why it’s important to you that he go north.”

A brief mulish stubbornness appeared in her expression, but Alya’s eyes darted from Edwyn to her twin, vulnerability becoming more apparent the more she made contact with Brynden. “I-my betrothal has been arranged. I’m to marry Wyllam Manderly.”

Wyllam Manderly- heir to White Harbor. Which meant his twin, his other half, was being sent North, separating them for the first time in his life. Unless he accepted Uncle Jon’s offer and went north as well…

Oh. Oh. He swallowed hard against a lump in his throat. “Does that mean you don’t hate me anymore?”

Alya’s eyes went as wide as saucers, but before anything more could be discussed, they were all interrupted by the arrival of Edwyn’s squire.

“My lords, my lady, I’ve been sent to fetch you. Lady Minisa had gone to the birthing bed.”

If there was anything that gave Alya the slightest hope in regards to her future marriage, it was the genuine affection between her older sister and her husband, Ser Samwyle Tarly. Called Little Sam to differentiate him from his father, Samwell, the heir to Horn Hill had been hopelessly besotted with Minisa from the time they were children. It was likely that adoration that led to him indulging Mini’s wish to travel so late in her pregnancy, though thankfully the couple hadn’t traveled far, having been staying in Oldtown to celebrate his sister Maeve’s first child with Lord Hightower.

Samwyle was a big man, tall and broad, his presence readily felt by all those with him in the corridor as he paced back and forth, Redwyne freckles standing stark against his pale, anxious face. Alya watched as Edwyn approached the nervous father-to-be, resting a hand on his shoulder and leaning closer to hopefully reassure and advise. Without the frenetic pacing to keep her attention, Alya found herself shifting restlessly, nothing left to distract her from her racing mind.

Thoughts bouncing from the danger of Mini being in labor to vague, nervous speculation of one day being married to Wyllam and carrying his children, she found herself most often coming back to the fact that her twin, her other half, thought she hated him.

Alya knew she was stubborn, that she was prideful, but even she had been able to admit to herself years ago that she had been hasty when it came to her suspicions about their mother and Uncle Jon. Yes, it had been wrong of him to respond the way he did, trying to force silence on the sister he knew valued the freedom of her mind above all else, but these days, needling Brynden was more habit than true antagonism. Calling him “Flowers” had been a childish thing born of her anger, but still, the only thing that could truly stick in her thoughts…

“Does that mean you don’t hate me anymore?”

She winced at the memory and stared blankly ahead, idly counting grains in the wooden table nearby in an effort to distract herself. A shift in the space, a creak from the bench beneath her, and a warm, solid body appeared at her side. Keeping her gaze affixed forward, she sighed, sliding over until they were shoulder-to-shoulder. “I don’t hate you,” she muttered softly.

The body beside her went slack with relief, shifting closer still until they were hip-to-hip. “I accepted Uncle Jon’s offer,” he offered hesitantly.

Relief rushed through her, and she let her hand fall onto the bench beside them, close enough to feel the warmth of his. They’d held hands so often as children, she couldn��t remember the last time she’d welcomed such a touch from him. “And you’ll visit White Harbor often?”

“So much you’ll think me even more of a pest than you do now,’” Brynden replied honestly. He flexed his fingers, letting his pinkie graze against hers. He lowered his voice, muttering quietly. “I never meant to hurt you. I just wanted us safe.”

Alya sighed heavily, giving into her instincts and wearily letting her head fall to his shoulder. Her twin stiffened for only a moment, relaxing beneath her and gladly welcoming her proximity as he had since the womb. “I know. But we’ll all be well, Bryn. Mama will be accompanying me for a time. And Edwyn will be so proud of you, becoming a lord in your own right.” In his heart of hearts, Alya knew if there was any man that Brynden truly considered a father, it was their older brother. Edwyn had seen them through their childhoods with patience and strength, but he had children of his own now. If nothing else, Uncle Jon at least deserved the chance to guide Bryn through the clumsy first steps of adulthood.

Brynden nodded softly, contemplatively silent rather than brooding. He gently settled his hand on hers and Alya reciprocated, their fingers entwining. There was much more left unsaid between them, so much to discuss and uncover, but for now, two halves were side-by-side.

xx Feeling helpless as a spectator and uncertain how much of his heart he could truly show, Jon Snow could only watch the similar anxiety and tension carrying on around him. Along with his goodson, he winced as yet another sharp cry from the birthing room filled the air.

Afternoon had quickly faded into twilight and later still into the hour of the wolf, and Jon had long since sent the twins to bed and his firstborn to tend his own young family. This left Jon as the only one to let the reassuring weight of a father’s hands rest against Little Sam’s shoulders.

He wondered briefly if the boy bore any resemblance to his father anytime Desmera or Gilly had gone to the birthing bed with Sam’s impressive brood of eight Tarlys and Flowers. Jon and Sam’s friendship had continued over the years despite the distance, but necessity had seen him only sharing in the most monumental milestones of his friend’s life through letters. He looked at Little Sam, saw the near-resemblance to his dear friend save for a few distinct Redwyne features.

Pushing away the melancholy, Jon forced his mouth into a reassuring smile. “Steady on, lad. Wasn’t your father or brother able to prepare you for this at all?”

“Aemon tried his best, but Father was too embarrassed.” Jon’s lips twitched into a more genuine grin, both at Sam’s expense and the reminder that “the little monster” had grown into the happy and respected Ser Aemon Flowers.

Jon nodded sagely. “Fortunately there’s none of that shyness between old friends. It gets easier as time goes on, according to your father. Meanwhile, I’m here with you, and we’ll be strong for our Minisa. Why don’t you tell me what you two have planned once you’re able to take the babe back to Oldtown?”

The next hour passed peacefully with Little Sam’s hopes, dreams of his son or daughter growing up with Maeve’s little Lyonel, Aemon’s Hern and Flora, and Edwyn’s sweet Sansara Samwyle’s happy voice died out as Minisa’s cries reached a crescendo, attention fixated on the door for a short eternity before the oak hinges creaked open, and Sansa stepped out into the corridor, relief mingling with fatigue in her expression.

“It’s done. You have a son, Samwyle. Congratulations.”

“A boy.” Little Sam was euphoric and glowing in his joy. “May I go see them?”

“Of course. Minisa’s expecting you.”

The clandestine couple watched as the exuberant young man all but bound for the room, disappearing behind the door. In the sudden silence, Sansa looked back at her lover, something impossibly soft lingering in her eyes.

“The birth was long and hard. I’m in need of freshening up. Will you escort me back to my guest chamber, Cousin?”

“I’d be delighted, my lady.”

Safely barred behind another closed door, Sansa’s lips stole his breath, soft hands linking around his neck to kiss him deeply, joy and life and love thrumming through every connection they shared. Jon made a soft sound of satisfaction in his throat, arms locking around her as they shared again deep, heated kisses. Nimble fingers slipping beneath the folds of his tunic, she flattened her palm just over his pounding heart, thinking fondly of the deep, unconditional love she knew resided there.

Their caresses slowed, lips parting at the need for breath, and Sansa reached up to cup his cheek, smoothing her thumb over the ages lines around the curve of his mouth. “He’s beautiful, my love. I can’t wait for you to see him. I’m to bring you back once father and son have had their time, and Mini sends her poor husband to bed.”

Torn between elation and indecision, Jon hesitated. “A male cousin in the birthing room? Sansa, are you certain?”

“Yes. You weren’t able to meet Sansara until she was nearly a year old- you deserve to meet this child. Besides, Minisa insists upon it. She’s eager for you to meet your new namesake.”

As his eyes widened, she chuckled and stole one last kiss, a gentle peck to the gaping slack of his mouth. “Come now. Your daughter and grandson await you.”

As Jon watched his daughter hold her newborn son, her lovely face awash with a new mother’s love and tenderness, he felt a pang for a past he hadn’t been present for. He thought perhaps some of it was restored to him in this moment, for it must have looked similar to when Sansa held their children for the first time after bringing them into the world.

Propriety checked at the door, there was no earthly force that could keep Jon back from sweeping over to the bed, leaning down to embrace his daughter and pressing a tender kiss to her brow. Minisa hummed with content, arms twining around his shoulders to return his embrace. She bussed a kiss to his bearded cheek, and when she whispered a soft, nonchalant truth sotto voce into his ear, he found himself passed panic or recrimination. Crystal blue eyes met his calmly, steadily, nothing but love and trust to be found in their depths.

“Come hold your grandson,” she told him simply. No accusation, just a simple, short acknowledgment.

Then there was hardly time to think on it further as Sansa placed little Jon Tarly in his arms, letting him carefully cradle the babe against him. He looked down at the tiny face with reverence and felt his heart swell with more love than he ever felt possible. Just like all those years ago, when somehow Sansa managed to work her way into his heart, giving so much and asking nothing in return, filling all the empty spaces inside him until she was a part of everything he was. How could he ever feel empty again, carrying memories like this one with him for the rest of his days?

#jon x sansa #jonsa #jonsa-valentine #asoiaf #my fic #better late than never

48 notes · View notes

ruensroad · 3 years

Note

o(≧∇≦o)

another sleep deprivation prompt!!! for rencheng!!! "What? Sorry, I'm having trouble focusing..."

Thank you! sorry for the delay, life got a little crazy!

From this prompt list and from this RenCheng AU :)

He could still hear her laughter, some days. Everytime he sat too straight, poured his tea too perfectly, she was there to chide him in his mind. Lan-xiong, so strict! Lan-xiong, so perfect!

While he could say with true honesty that he hadn’t fallen in love with Cangse Sanren the same way Jiang Fengmian had, a part of his heart still fully belonged to her. Which wasn’t too uncommon. Despite her carefree, chaotic nature, she had been beautiful and bright, and nearly everyone that she’d met had fallen in love with her to some degree - a sentiment that, no doubt, would have amused her greatly.

There had been a time that she’d been the bane of his existence. She was everything he wasn’t, everything he’d been taught was incorrect. She was wild and mischievous, unafraid to speak her mind. She laughed often and loudly and started duels because she could. Knowing now that feelings had formed for her explained some of his early reactions, his quick anger and frustration.

She always had left him flustered, not only with her forwardness, but also her depth of kindness and understanding. Even when he had nearly gotten her and Jiang Fengmian killed, she had forgiven him. And sure, it had resulted in the loss of his goatee, but their friendship had been strong and forthright forever on, and even now touched his heart in ways not much did.

He felt, most days, like his heart was a house built of different rooms. One room was for his nephews, large and important. One was for his friends and family, whom he guarded like treasure. One was for Cangse Sanren and all other friends he had lost along the way. And one for-

“Shufu?” Lan Xichen asked, and by his tone he had been saying it for a little while. Lan Qiren blinked out of his stupor and realized he’d been stroking his beard, giving the illusion of deep thought. Judging by the concern on his nephew’s face, he must be quite the sight, frowning and thinking in his sleep clothes. He’d just awoken from his rest and lost himself to thoughts, which he never did. No doubt, Lan Xichen was ready to call for Wangji at the first sign of illness in a panic.

The thought made him smile, which probably helped nothing. “Forgive me, Xichen,” he murmured, trying to find some of that containment he was so known for. But he was soft today, lost in memories of a golden time. For they truly were tinted gold, those days where he and Jiang Fengmian had been pulled by their sashes after a laughing Cangse Sanren, who promised adventure and no end of trouble. “I did not hear you.”

Every memory he had in each locked room of his heart was colored differently. For his nephews, it was a somber, beautiful blue, and sometimes he could almost imagine the world actually tinted so when he was with them.

“I simply remarked on how long you slept, shufu,” Lan Xichen said with a smile that let Lan Qiren know he’d worried him. “And that I hope you are feeling better.”

Lan Xichen was kinder than the world deserved. Lan Qiren, soft as he was, took in the beloved planes of his face with pride before his eyes flickered down the root of the issue: an untouched cup of tea. Ah, no wonder.

He took the tea and warmed it back up with a wash of qi, sipping it gratefully. Lan Xichen’s smile warmed in relief to see it.

“I am rested,” Lan Qiren promised and set the cup neatly back down, which only made Lan Xichen calm down further. It was always in his habits, he’d found, that Lan Xichen paid the most attention to. As did Wangji, and he smiled to himself at memories of a frowning, silent child worriedly pulling on his sleeve because he had not finished his tea. He would make sure to finish this cup for both their sakes, no matter how he truly felt. “Just in my thoughts this morning.”

Lan Xichen nodded and sipped his own tea, the movement graceful and perfect. He looked so much like his mother that the room in his heart where he’d secretly locked Madam Lan away ached. That room was coated in roses and black thorns, and he pushed her memories from the fore of his mind, but it was a little too late. He was already bared open, so the next words hit him like barbs, a thousand arrows to yet another room of his heart, colored in purple and echoing with distant thunder..

“Sect Leader Jiang has been asking about you,” Lan Xichen said and there was a tiny laugh in the words. “As has Young Master Jin. I haven not seen you play with anyone since Wangji, shufu.”

“He is a child, Xichen,” Lan Qiren defended easily, “and his uncle was sick. A simple decision to keep him calm.”

Nevermind that there were nannies here, and other children. It would have been just as simple to hand Jin Ling into the care of one of them and let him play away his worry with A-Yuan and A-Yi, and other boys and girls his own age. But that stubborn room in his heart had not let him, for it was beginning to sprout with golden peonies too, and already he could hear Cangse Sanren’s laughter.

Lan-xiong, so fearsome! If you scowl like that, no one will marry you!

His ears went hot and he sipped his tea to stave off any teasing. Blessedly, Lan Xichen took the hint.

“Of course,” he agreed, because he was a better nephew than Lan Qiren deserved, but his eyes were still going over Lan Qiren quizzically, a look he knew far too well. It was the same face he wore when he puzzled through a game of chess, or a painting, or a new piece of music, an inevitability that it would be solved.

Lan Qiren, for once, didn’t know what to say to dissuade him. Thankfully, a knock sounded before he could try and a young disciple bowed from the door.

“Old Master Lan, Sect Leader Jiang and Young Master Jin are here to see you.”

He wanted to laugh, almost, because of course Jiang Cheng had wasted no time. A storm opened in that heart room, fluttering with lotus and peony petals, and he realized he was stroking his beard again. It went unnoticed by Lan Xichen this time, given he was politely excusing everyone away, and Lan Qiren could hear her laughing again, goading him on.

Lan-xiong, be brave!

“No,” he said over Lan Xichen and looked up at the disciple. “Let them in.”

“Shufu, you’re not dressed,” Lan Xichen argued immediately, the surprise on his face making his eyes wide and his voice a little high.

“I am aware,” Lan Qiren said evenly and took a sip of tea just so he could set the cup down in a more final motion. “Leave us please, Xichen. Sect Leader Jiang and I have something to discuss.”

“Of… course, shufu,” Lan Xichen said, and his confusion made him look like a lost little boy. Lan Qiren ached immediately to pull him into his arms and guard him from the world, but the moment was gone quickly and Lan Xichen slipped past the door.

The very air seemed to crackle with lightning as Jiang Cheng stepped inside, and even with a five year old on his hip, he looked imposing and handsome and all of Lan Qiren’s world tinted to a stormy purple.

“Old Master,” was his greeting, voice low and rough, but full of confidence, if only for the moment.

“Sect leader,” Lan Qiren gave back, like he wasn’t in sleep clothes with his hair down, like this was just any other meeting between them and not the most important talk of his life. “Young Master Jin.”

“Old teacher!” Jin Ling wiggled to be put down and Jiang Cheng obliged him. The boy hurried over to Lan Qiren with what looked like a mess of paper in his hands, but was actually a folded paper dog that he handed over with happiness. “Are you feeling better? I made this for you. Jiu-jiu showed me how to do the folds!”

The offering was simple, but made him ache. He nodded seriously and took the little dog, setting it on the desk. “I am well, Young Master,” he promised and got a luminous smile for his words. “Thank you.”

“A-Ling, go play with your boat. Old Master Lan and I need to have a talk,” Jiang Cheng said, pulling the wooden toy from his sleeve. Jin Ling grinned and took it, then retreated to a spot near the go board. He might as well not have been there at all with how intensely Jiang Cheng was staring him down and it took all of Lan Qiren’s will not to shake as he poured the man a cup of tea.

It was silent and heavy as Jiang Cheng folded himself into the place Lan Xichen had been, and Lan Qiren felt his mind flicker back to golden days, even as his eyes were entranced by the vision of violet and silver before him.

Cangse Sanren was as close to a first love as he’d ever gotten, and she had been his opposite in every way. Jiang Cheng, the one whose room in his heart knocked the loudest, was more like himself, strict and perfunct, bitter of the world and tethered only by the love of a nephew. He was a study of what was proper and expected of any sect leader, warrior, and ally. He was fierce and stalwart, a wall all bad things had to break down before anyone else was hurt.

Lan Qiren had been in awe of him a long time and let it show in his eyes as he set down the cup. He knew Jiang cheng expected words, expected an explanation, but like Jiang Cheng himself, he was not a man made of them. The only words he knew were rules, which were armor and guidance. But words from the heart? He might as well have been an illiterate fool.

The only consolation was that Jiang Cheng seemed to be having as much trouble as he. As the silence stretched on, he watched the irritation and embarrassment only grow as they both tried and failed to speak. Finally, Jiang Cheng simply swore under his breath, and though it broke a rule, it lit a fire in that room Jiang Cheng owned in his heart and made him laugh.

Like ice breaking, Jiang Cheng huffed a brief chuckle to join him and his shoulders slumped. “This is stupid,” he said, and Lan Qiren had to agree. “We talk all the time. We should be able to do this.”

Lan Qiren nodded and stroked his beard, a movement Jiang Cheng watched with dark eyes. “I do not speak plainly of what is in my heart, Sect Leader,” Lan Qiren said, and it was the bravest he’d ever been. The heat in his ears trickled down into his neck, plain for the man to see.

“Your heart?” Jiang Cheng echoed, incredulous, and he too looked like a lost child, hopeful and aching for things that were always ripped away. Lan Qiren felt the same instinct to hold him and guard him from the world he felt with his nephews. “That would imply that I am in your heart, Old Master.”

It was a challenge, and a plea. Lan Qiren looked down at his cup of tea and saw his own smile. “You are.”

Simple, could it really be that simple? He met Jiang Cheng’s eye and waited, watched a valiant struggle flicker in those eyes and over his expression. It settled on more of a scowl, in the end, but that was just armor too.

“You… too,” Jiang Cheng swallowed, fought the words out with all the same intensity he gave in every battle fought before, steadfast, yet ready to be struck down at any moment. “For me it’s the same.”

Jiang Cheng went tense afterwards, as though just hearing the words would make Lan Qiren reconsider. He was tempted, in truth, if only because it was so unusual, and that he did not wish for Jiang Cheng to be trapped by someone just like him, but even more unbending. Surely, Jiang Cheng deserved more? Surely this miracle was not meant to last?

Lan-xiong…

He closed his eyes and breathed, then took a sip of tea to settle his nerves. There were so many things he wished to say, but didn’t know how to. He had never been gifted in that way as Cangse Sanren had been. But then, neither was Jiang Cheng, and in that he found his answer.

Love through action, his only method. He prayed it would be enough.

“I expect a proper courtship,” he said sternly. “There are rules for this kind of thing and expect you to heed them all.”

Internally, he winced, because why did he sound like a chiding teacher? But for some reason, it seemed to settle well, and Jiang Cheng sat all the straighter, with an ease that had not been there before, and nodded once.

“So I will,” he promised and that part of Lan Qiren’s heart was utterly lost.

#ruenwrites #rencheng #jiang cheng #lan qiren #jin ling #catching lightning au

77 notes · View notes