#and eases a lot of my concerns about her upbringing

[dearlybelovedemilyko]

candy turning out to be older than edward is something that answers so many questions

#and eases a lot of my concerns about her upbringing #shadows house #shadows house spoilers #candy shadows house

[jaegeraether]

Sunsets and footballers (Part 47)

Lucy Bronze x Reader (42) / Alexia Putellas x Character (11) / Jordan Nobbs x Leah Williamson Mini (4)

Masterlist (other parts here)

YFN put her hand on Alexia’s arm which broke her from her thoughts. They were standing out the front of the Captain’s apartment.

“She’s…like this. She’s not used to people helping,” YFN eased.

“She wanted me… go,” Alexia said in broken English.

“She didn’t want me to stay either and I’ve known her for two decades.” Alexia was still a little upset, but YFN was just glad Ridley hadn’t stayed with Ona at the bar. That would have been a mistake.

“She broke her hand…” Alexia trailed off.

It was aggressive, yes. But she knew Ridley, her intentions, what made her tick and what set her off. “She’s the most protective person I’ve ever met in my life,” she said softly. Alexia’s eyes met hers, curious. "We had a rough upbringing. She’s dealt with a lot of pain, physically and mentally. She’d never hurt anyone she loves…”

“I’m not scared of her…I know she wouldn’t hurt people. She’s very soft.”

YFN was interested at that. She never would have described Ridley as soft, though perhaps it was the language barrier. Alexia must of noticed because she clarified.

“She cares a lot about people…”

YFN nodded, happy that Alexia had seen that. “Yes. Yes, she does. She tries not to show it, but she really does.”

She saw Alexia tighten her hold around the teddy before she gave a smile and a hug to both her and Lucy before she left.

The ride home was silent besides the music but that was mainly because it was getting late, and YFN had an early flight. They were never happy parting ways. Lucy’s hand on her thigh tightened while YFN stroked the inside of her forearm. Her phone buzzed and she looked at it, a response from Ridley.

Riddles: *Sent a photo*

The photo was her hand in a partial black brace, wrapping around her wrist and two little fingers.

Riddles: Just a boxer’s fracture, same as usual.

YFN was all too aware of what that was, as she’d taken Ridley to the ER multiple times for it over the years. Having two black belts meant hard punches and broken bones. She was more concerned about her job though, as she definitely needed two hands for that.

YFN: And work?

Riddles: Off for a week and then I’ll be good with the movement and brace.

“Boxer’s fracture…” YFN murmured to Lucy.

“Oh, I know what that is.”

Of course Lucy would know. Her mind flashed to images of her boxing. “Have you ever had it?”

“Once. It’s painful but at least you’re not standing on it.”

“She’s used to pain, like you…” YFN replied and her hand found the scars on Lucy’s bad knee, tracing them with her fingertips in support. “Can I come and watch you box one day?”

Lucy grinned. “I’d love that. It can be pretty…angry though.”

“I know it’s where you get your frustrations out, love. I won’t distract you, I’ll just sit in the corner and watch you like a stalker.”

Lucy rolled her eyes. “Okay firstly, you’re always a distraction for me, but the best kind. And secondly, too soon on the stalker front.”

YFN chuckled and she leant over just far enough to kiss Lucy’s arm.

YFN: Are you going to let Alexia know?

Riddles: Do you have money on us or something?

YFN: You two are cute…besides the Ona flirting.

Riddles: What can I say? I’m a catch.

Ridley didn’t even try to defend herself because they both knew she hadn’t been flirting back. She’d just been herself. But herself was bad enough. She didn’t want to get involved in Ridley and Alexia’s unspoken thing, however she knew that if she were in Alexia’s shoes she’d want to know how she was.

Riddles: Before you message me again, yes, I will tell her. Safe flight and today was great, we should do it again soon.

YFN: Yes, please. Love you x

“If I didn’t know her, I’d be jealous you were flirting, looking at your phone all smiley like that,” Lucy teased.

“You know her, and you’re still jealous,” she teased back. Lucy pouted. “But it’s okay, I love you all jealous and moody.”

“God, Luce, it’s almost midnight,” she whimpered.

Lucy lifted her head, mouth glistening with excitement and eyes dark with lust. “Are you complaining, little one? I can stop right now-”

“No! No…I just…argh-” she reached down and grabbed her girlfriend, pulling her up on top of her until they were face to face, Lucy bracing her weight on her elbows. YFN dragged her head down and tasted herself on Lucy as their lips met and their tongues fought with groans and moans and excitement. YFN broke away but only for long enough to whisper. “No more teasing, just fuck me, Lucy.”

She reached down and grabbed her strap, lining it up while Lucy watched her face with wonder. She continued to watch her as she slowly rolled her hips and pushed the strap inside of her little Australian, enjoying watching her eyes roll to the back of her head and a moan escape her throat.

She leant down to nip her earlobe before whispering in her ear. “Yes, love.”

Lucy began moving her hips slowly in and out, and YFN could tell from Lucy’s ragged breathing and soft moans in her ear that it was rubbing her in just the right spot. YFN moved her hips with Lucy’s pace, intensifying the pressure of the strap on Lucy’s clit as she enjoyed the length of it moving in and out of her.

“I don’t want you to leave,” Lucy groaned as she fucked her.

Her heart melted. “Luce…I don’t want to leave either.”

“I want you to stay,” she grunted in between her thrusts.

“I want to stay…” she moaned in reply.

“You…argh fuck….you belong with me.”

“I do…” she whimpered. “I belong with you.”

Lucy’s mouth found her neck with passion, kissing and sucking marks into it. Oh, she was needy. She wanted to leave evidence she was there.

“Mine,” she growled softly in between the marks she sucked.

A shiver ran down YFN’s spine. One of her hands was in Lucy’s hair, the other unconsciously dragging fingernails up her back, gripping as she tried to hold herself together. Fuck, it was good. It wasn’t their usual rough, passionate fuck. No. This one was slow and steady, loving and emotional, hitting all of the right places. This was teamwork. Two lovers enjoying each other. YFN’s legs wound their way around Lucy’s hips as she braced her knees better on the bed to start a deeper, harder fuck. Lucy was still pulling out slower than usual, but she entered at pace, thrusting her hips and seemably enjoying the smack on her clit as their hips met with a wet slap. God, she was so wet. Even slowly, they could hear the sound of YFN’s dripping core. She could feel herself tightening the closer she got, Lucy’s glutes paying the price.

“Ah…fuck little one. Fuck you’re tight.”

At those words, YFN’s back arched and she whimpered, Lucy quickened her thrusts and the force in which she fucked her. YFN was a whimpering, moaning mess, clutching onto Lucy like a lifeline.

“Ah…ah…please don’t stop…Luce!”

“You’re mine.” Lucy growled as she again sped up. Fucking relentless, she was.

“I’m y…yours!”

At this point, she could only lay there, clutched to Lucy as she fucked her into the bed, getting her frustration out, her needs, her love, her obsession. YFN cried out her name as she came, Lucy fucking her through it and finishing shortly after. She slowed down until she was finished, undoing the strap and throwing it to the floor. Just as she was about to move away, YFN pulled her down onto her, Lucy’s sweaty body laying on her own as she held her there while they regained their breath. Lucy was the most out of breath, of course. Because it was late, it wasn’t long until they were sleepy, almost drifting off but just before they could, YFN spoke.

“Luce?” She whispered, just loud enough to hear. She wiped the sweat off of Lucy’s brow, pushing the hair off her forehead and tucking those little curly baby hairs behind her ear.

Lucy hummed in response, unable to speak as she hung in a space of lethargy and peace.

“I’ll never stop falling in love with you.”

YFN stared at the photos and couldn’t help the smile crossing her face. Lucy had posted several photos of their past few days in Barcelona together. The first, a picture on YFN half in the water that she didn’t know she’d taken. She remembered looking out over the ocean and it reminding her of home. The second was YFN and Narla having a nap together while Lucy had been making her monster of a sandcastle. Narla was laying flat on her side, her back pressed up against YFN, her head resting on her arm. The third photo was of course Lucy posing next to her sandcastle monster, little spade in hand and a proud grin on her face. Narla had photobombed that one. And the last photo was a selfie Lucy had taken from the bar that had herself, YFN, Ridley, Alexia, and most of the Barca girls in it also.

Lucy Bronze MBE: Love, love, love. *red heart emoji*

Lucy had also tagged her in her caption.

Her heart swelled and she bit her lip. Oh, Luce. She had never had someone so proudly showing her to the world, let alone someone with the amount of followers Lucy did.

Jordan Nobbs liked a post you were tagged in.

Alexia Putellas liked a post you were tagged in.

Caitlin Foord liked a post you were tagged in.

Caitlin Foord: Chickens *red hear emoji* *Australia emoji*

Katie McCabe liked a post you were tagged in.

Katie McCabe: Nice abs

Kyra Cooney-Cross liked a post you were tagged in.

Kyra Cooney-Cross: thanks for the invite

Leah Williamson liked a post you were tagged in.

Riddles liked a post you were tagged in.

Riddles: *fist emoji* *car emoji*

Keira Walsh liked a post you were tagge-

“YFN?”

Her head shot up and found Ruby, immediately blushing as she was just caught. She put her phone down.

“Hm?”

“We were just talking about the office space. It’s huge?!”

They were in their new office in London, and it was a decent size. There was a main, large room with individual desks and set up for everybody’s individual workstations, along with a kitchen, showers and bathrooms, and several separate conference rooms. Knowing exactly who ‘Joe’ was, she wasn’t surprised by the size of it, and just how much furniture and equipment were already set up.

“It won’t feel quite as huge when we have a few hundred people in here,” she laughed.

“A few hundred?!”

“I dare say we’ll be expanding pretty quickly.”

“What are the conference rooms for?” Bridget asked.

“I’m thinking we’ll have a roster and can use them for the groups we have for certain games. So you can meet as a team in there without disturbing everyone else, and we can book them for a certain amount of hours when they’re not being used for that.”

“Great idea!”

“Now does everyone have their car park passes?”

After confirming they did, they sat down for their meeting in one of the conference rooms.

“Alright, welcome, welcome to our new Lumos office. I hope you’re all liking it because it’s going to be home for a while. And as you’ll notice, we have each of the conference rooms set up for people to zoom in, as I understand we all live in different areas and travelling from Birmingham or Liverpool each day doesn't exactly make sense…however this week is an exception. I’ve spoken to you all about this and I’ll apologise again. We just need everybody in for the next three days because of the workload with the new staff starting tomorrow. You will all be paired up into your usual pairs and supervising the groups. Here’s our schedule for this week.”

She gave out their weekly schedule.

Liverpool vs Chelsea (Stamford Bridge, London): Sat 18th Nov 1330 – Bridget, Emily and YFN to supervise.

Everton vs Bristol (Walton Hall Park, Liverpool): Sun 19th Nov 1300 – Ethan and Daniel to supervise.

Brighton vs Arsenal (Broadfield Stadium, Crawley): Sun 19th Nov 1400 – Sam and Olivia to supervise.

Leicester vs Spurs (King Power Stadium, Leicester): Sun 19th Nov 1500 – Bridget and Emily to supervise.

West Ham vs Aston Villa (Chigwell Stadium, London): Sun 19th Nov 1500 – YFN and Noel to supervise.

Man City vs Man United (Old Trafford, Manchester): Sun 19th Nov 1630 – Matt and Ruby to supervise.

“Each pair will have eight crew onsite. Three videographers, three photographers, one interviewer and one editor. It’s your job as supervisors to make sure we’re using everyone efficiently to get the content we expect from so many people. Over the next few days, I’ll be very, very strict with the interviewers on techniques and questioning, and I expect you all to do the same with people in your field of work. We need to start off strong, having forty new people means that there’s room for error. We need to minimise that by ensuring we train the very well and we need to remember that we’re all still fresh and learning too. It’ll be an overload of information, but that’s why you will all be supervising for the first round. Depending on how we go, we may require supervision for a few rounds after, however we’re hoping to aim for that eight-person crew to be running smoothly without the need for the supervision.”

“What do we do if we think the interviewer is asking wrong questions or upsetting the players?” Olivia asked quietly.

“You immediately pull the plug. I’m going to want feedback from you all on all of the individual employees after your game, so we can make sure everybody is on the same page and the people who need extra time practising, get just that. Okay, we have just the one game on Saturday that Bridget and Emily will supervise with eight new staff. If I’m happy with our progress over the next two days with the new employees, then I’ll also attend and leave the rest of you to prep in the office for Sunday. Sunday will be all hands-on deck, full crews on every site as well as two supervisors. Our big game this week is Man City vs Man United at Old Trafford which Matt and Ruby are going to be running…”

YFN made sure she didn’t look at her phone again that day, and it wasn’t that difficult. She loved the logistics of her work. She and her original nine colleagues eagerly discussed their week ahead and brainstormed potential issues and how to overcome them. A few of them had to run down to get stationary, paper, whiteboards and more to fill the conference rooms with supplies and also just get through their day of exciting prep.

The next two days flew by, and the office already felt crowded, but in a good way. Like Javier’s bar. Everyone was excited to work and to learn. YFN had taken the time to get to know everyone prior to meeting them, thanks to the folders put together by Lumos management, and had split them into their groups where she thought it would suit them best. The planning and prep work was intense, but worked out to her satisfaction, even though her standards were high. YFN had even gotten permission from Chelsea to take her team out to Stamford Bridge to get to know it and so the individual teams could practise the best shots for photos, videos and more. YFN left them to their groups as much as she could, letting them work it out together and trusting the supervisors she’d put in charge. She spent a lot of her time at Stamford Bridge talking to Emma Hayes and her Chelsea coaching staff as they ran drills. A few of the players came over to say hi when they had a chance which was rare, because Emma was all over them.

Friday night came with expectation and nerves. They were in Lucy’s apartment with Leah’s stylists as Jordan hadn’t wanted to go to Leah’s place. Too many memories. Jordan and YFN had packed and enjoyed a road trip down for the night from Birmingham, planning on getting being naughty with some take out after the event.

“Oh my god, Ridley was right. This is amazing…” Jordan said as she exited Lucy’s spare room in her suit. YFN and Leah both spun around to Jordan who was now fully dressed and looking unreal. It was a feminine suit, but the first piece of clothing that actually fit her. The accessories were minimal, a silver bracelet, two rings and a simple ear cuff. Jordan’s hair was up, already done by the stylist and her suit perfectly matched Leah’s with its style.

“Are you comfortable? Ridley said you’d want to be comfortable…” YFN said.

“Ridley?” Leah asked.

YFN had explained who Ridley was to Leah previously, though it hadn’t stopped her jealously.

“She picked this outfit for me in Barcelona with YFN,” Jordan grinned, still proud and looking down at herself. “And she was 100% right, I’m very comfortable.”

Leah sighed, standing as she was just finished with her hair. They took a few photos together and they matched so well that YFN had to take a picture to send to Ridley.

Riddles: I said thank me later. It’s later.

YFN: Jordan said thank you for saving her life.

Riddles: I know a few ways she can make it up to me…

YFN: Put it away, Riddles.

Riddles: Aw, you’re no fun. I could pick her up and throw her all around the bedroom.

YFN rolled her eyes, ignoring the last message as Ridley knew she would. When Jordan asked what she’d replied, she only told her the first bit.

They all rode together in a blacked-out, chauffeur driven car and as they got closer, YFN was getting nervous to be alone for the photographs. Jordan felt bad, but she was Leah’s plus one after all. YFN wouldn’t have let her anyways. She was staring at her scar in the window of the car as they arrived, feeling a little self-conscious. Her mind was on Lucy, like it had been since she’d left Barcelona two days ago. Two days and she was already too drained at the feeling of aching without her. Jordan leant over and kissed her cheek, snapping her out of it.

“Just get past this and we’ll meet you inside,” she said before she got out.

Leah put a hand on her knee before she followed. “You look beautiful,” she said with a genuine smile.

YFN followed them. She focussed on the photographers watches and hands instead of the cameras, just as Leah had taught her to avoid being blinded by the flashes. She looked ahead of her and saw them together, their arms lightly touching each other’s backs for the photos. They looked beautiful and what’s more, they were both smiling as if they were together, as if they were happy, and YFN could tell it was genuine with the way they looked at each other between photos.

Once inside, she took a deep breath and the first glass of champagne that came by her. Leah and Jordan found her immediately, the three of them laughing about the aggressiveness of the photographers shouting outside, and the amount of celebrities inside. It was during their third drink to settle their nerves when they were approached by the last person YFN wanted to see.

“I didn’t realise they invited so many women to the Man of the Year award. A bit sexist, isn’t it?” Mark asked.

YFN saw Leah go stiff as she saw him. She hadn’t noticed that the last time they’d met him together.

“Women can’t show up in support for men?” YFN asked.

“You’re not here to support men,” he said, hard. “And I saw your latest little post online, YFN. You and Miss Bronze are going strong, are you?”

“Our relationship has nothing to do with you.”

Over her shoulder, her eye was caught by the sight of William and Catherine arriving to a multitude of camera shutters, blinding flashes and shouts of excitement. Her stomach dropped. She didn’t know she’d be here.

“It just makes it easier for me to prove your conflict of interest,” he shrugged. “But I do hope you had a wonderful time in Barcelona.”

“It was fantastic, thanks for the well wishes,” she replied, purely out of spite.

He didn’t seem to care as he’d already turned to Leah. “And it’s very interesting to see who you chose for a date tonight, Miss Williamson.”

Leah’s jaw locked. “Don’t.”

“Don’t what? I warned you-”

She stepped forward and cut him off. “My lawyers have sorted it. You don’t have anything to threaten me with anymore Mark. Leave.”

He smiled down at her. “You really think that is going to stop it just…slipping out? I can’t help a leak…”

YFN had no idea what they were talking about and from the looks of Jordan, she didn’t either. Mark looked at Jordan and his eyes went down her body and back up.

“Keep your fucking eyes to yourself. Leave.” Leah snapped. Leah never snapped. Jordan’s eyes widened.

“It’s a bit hard to when-”

“Do not finish that sentence,” she warned.

She was standing half in front of Jordan which made YFN think it possibly had something to do with her. He stared at her a moment longer, enjoying the look on her face that was anger and potentially worry, when his attention was caught by something behind YFN.

“Ah, and as if to prove my point.”

A warm hand touched her lower back lightly and the smell of vanilla and bitter orange overwhelmed her as Lucy stepped past and protectively in front of the group. Her hand slid around her hip as she stepped past and took YFN’s hand, holding it behind her and linking their fingers. Lucy. Lucy was here. Lucy. Her body relaxed as she stared at the back of her perfect girlfriend with a look of surprise.

“She told you to leave.”

Mark gave a smirk and opened his mouth but was stopped by Lucy lifting a hand. “Uh uh. Don’t speak. Just fuck off.”

Mark looked like he wanted to argue before his expression changed to something along the lines of apprehension. She couldn’t see Lucy’s face so she didn’t know exactly what she was doing to get that reaction, but she loved it. She put her other hand on top of their already clasped hands in support. Lucy squeezed her hand. Without another word, Mark left, though not without throwing another glance Leah’s direction. Watching him go, YFN caught someone’s eyes briefly lingering on their little exchange in the distance. Catherine. They both looked away.

When he was at a safe distance, Lucy turned, her features shifting from intimidation to adoration as she saw YFN staring at her wide-eyed and unbelieving. She reached out with her free hand and touched one of her dimples lightly. They shared that unspoken word before her hand lowered and she looked at Leah.

“What was that about?”

“Nothing,” Leah responded, her jaw locked.

“Hallo mate!” Jordan beamed and threw her arms around one of her closest friends. “You came!”

“You knew?” YFN asked.

Jordan pulled back, a little sheepish. “I didn’t know for sure. So, you found a flight then?”

Lucy looked at YFN. “Ridley helped me.”

She could have sworn her heart grew twice the size at the thought of Ridley and Lucy helping each other. She had hoped they’d get along and it was slowly coming to fruition.

She couldn’t help but look at what Lucy was wearing. It was an all-black suit, a well-tailored one too, and from the look of it, she was almost certain Ridley had something to do with that also. It was all a similar black besides the button up which was slightly darker and open almost halfway, exposing her neckline down to the space between her breasts, her black bra a little on show. And then there were the accessories, the rings, the necklace, the studs, the cufflinks. 100% Ridley. Lucy noticed her looking and gave a wink, doing some admiring of her own. She stepped closer so their bodies were against each other. They matched.

“Are you going to at least tell me what that was about?” Jordan asked, her focus on Leah.

“There’s nothing to say.”

“Are you joking, Leah?” Oh, Jordan was upset. “You want me to start trusting you again, but you can’t be honest about something that obviously involves me?”

Leah’s eyes closed as she battled with herself. Jordan didn’t wait to see what eventually won out. She turned and walked away, towards the canapés.

YFN went to follow her, but Lucy was first. “I’ll talk to her.” She murmured and gave her girlfriend a lingering kiss on the cheek before she followed her, their arms outstretching to hold each other’s fingertips a little longer as she went.

YFN tore her eyes from Lucy and looked at Leah whose eyes were following Jordan. “Leah…you’re going to have to tell her eventually, otherwise I guarantee he will.”

“I know.”

“So, start with me, and only me. What was that about?”

“I need a drink.”

YFN linked her arm through Leah’s. “Come on then.”

Leah held onto her tight as they wandered to the bar. “It’s about a sex tape.”

#woso #womens football #woso community #woso fanfics #woso imagine #woso soccer #engwnt #jordan nobbs #lionesses #lucy bronze #woso x reader #wsl #leah williamson #lucy bronze x reader #lucy bronze imagine #alexia putellas #arsenal women #arsenal #aston villa #aston villa women #barca femeni #fc barcelona #barca #barcelona femeni #fc barça #fc barca

[bookwyrminspiration]

do you ever do headcanons? if so, can you do some sophitz pregnancy hcs?

Sure! I'm not great with headcanons, but hopefully this is up to par! it is. a little longer than I meant to make it but i should've expected that. i think they're very sweet <3

I don't think Sophie would realize; she's too caught up in life, so it's Fitz who realizes her behavior has been...off, recently

He's worried she's mad at him for something, but can't think of what it would be

when he confronts her, she has no idea what he's talking about and promises they're fine, and says she's probably just tired

but now that he's pointed it out, she notices how off she is, too. and it keeps nagging at her for the next several weeks because it's just not going away

Fitz asks her to talk to Elwin about it, but she keeps pushing it off because there's nothing overt, it's just this feeling

but when the nausea shows up, he insists, and she agrees, but partially convinced she's just overworking herself

Spoiler alert: it's not that (though she could ease off herself once in a while)

They're both taken completely by surprise--kids weren't even on Sophie's mind, and since her belly button didn't pop like other elves, Fitz had no idea either

But you can bet he's thrilled out of his mind, and practically strangles her with a hug that lifts her off her feet before he comes back to himself and sets her down, incredibly gentle

Sophie simply stands there, staring into the distance, hands tight on Fitz's arms; surely there must be some mistake, and her mind is whirling a thousand directions at once before Fitz's voice in her head calms the chaos

And as terrified as she is, his whole face is lit up, focused on her, and his enthusiasm is infectious

But she's nervous to tell people--human upbringing is part of it, but it's also so personal, and there's so many feelings to sort through; Fitz simply presses a kiss to her forehead and tells her they'll wait as long as she needs

He tries not to be overbearing, but he can't help himself sometimes. He never wants to let go of her hand, holds her even tighter at night, and is always looking at her with this childlike wonder

It feels like he's constantly hailing Elwin with questions, doing what he can when the nausea and aches get bad, his mind never more than a thought away from hers

Sophie, for her part, just tries to live as normally as possible; she has a lot going on, and if she doesn't keep up, it'll tip people off; even though Fitz wouldn't mind that, and would like her to relax a little more

Keefe is ultimately their secret's undoing; when he'd quietly pressed her about the terrified excitement, he'd respected her wishes not to pry. But when he feels the nausea rearing it's head the next time they're all together, he pushes, concerned

Sophie freezes, and looks to Fitz; he breaks the news, grinning, and arm around her shoulder squeezing her tight

And even though Sophie's now the center of so much mothering and pampering, she's relieved to have the secret out

Fitz doesn't let go of her the rest of the night

And now that their friends now, Fitz begs her to let him tell their parents--he'd made Biana promise not to spill

They start with his parents, and there are tears in Alden's eyes as he pulls Fitz close; Della's delighted, but quickly gets herself under control and starts asking a million questions; how does she feel? is she sleeping well? why didn't you tell us sooner? any cravings? tell us anything we can do for you, my dear, and Sophie can't keep up

Sophie wants to take the lead with her parents, and she swears her heart is going to leap out of her chest--it's the first time she's said the words herself, and she nearly doesn't hear the response the way her ears are ringing

Grady's hug is even tighter than Fitz's was the day they found out, like he's never going to let her go, and he kisses the top of her head and looks over Fitz like he's never seen him before and needs to win him over all over again

Edaline's questions are less overwhelming, but Sophie's face burns anyways, and she's smiling as wide as Fitz as she assures her that yes, they've been talking to Elwin and following his advice

Now that others know, it starts to feel real to Sophie, and she has no clue what to do about that; Fitz's excitement is enough to dull the worst worries, and it rubs off on her, too, but not enough

One afternoon alone, she gets too caught up in her thoughts and breaks down; arms around her knees, she finds herself stretching her mind to Silveny of all people, and the exuberant mama alicorn helps ease her worries

To say Fitz is panicked when he finds her on the floor would be an understatement, but she just pulls him down to her and rests her head against his chest; his arms fall automatically around her, and a hand goes to her hair as Sophie finally lets herself press one against her stomach

they sit there awhile, not speaking, and Fitz's eyes are still worried when she finally pulls back, but he can see something's settled in her

When Sophie starts to show, Fitz tries very hard to be respectful about it, since she's shown a preference against touching so far; but he can't help it if he starts asking more, if he trails off when talking as his eyes linger on her stomach, and she swears every time it's like they've just found out all over again

Sophie wears loose clothes in public to keep it hidden, but she swears everyone's going to figure it out the way Fitz and her friends and their families keep looking at her

Fitz always has a hand on her; in hers, on her lower back, and arm around her shoulder, arms linked. And he's always looking for excuses to be nearby. it's both very sweet and incredibly annoying

When they're out, he can't help the longing glances at baby things--clothes, toys, you name it, he wants to get it; but if he did it'd be a dead give away for gossip, so for now he just yearns

Sophie wants to kiss him silly every time she sees that look on his face, and very nearly does a couple times

Once she leapt them straight home so she could wrap her arms around him, face in the crook of his neck because she's so glad it's him.

they're mid conversation in bed when baby first kicks, and she startles and grab's Fitz's hand, cutting off. in answer to his questions, Sophie silently guides his hand to rest where she felt it, eyes unfocused as he watches her, until baby kicks again and Fitz can't help pressing closer as their eyes meet, and he kisses her softly as she starts crying

She starts saying yes more when he asks permission to touch; every time he's unbelievably gentle, to the point it nearly tickles, and she watches his fascination with rapture

Fitz hates that there's so little he can do, so he's always looking for ways to help and brighten Sophie's day, especially when she's moody

He already did most of the cooking, but he starts bringing her breakfast in bed--especially when she starts sleeping heavier and longer

He even learns more of her childhood favorites when its what she's craving--and he does employ the help of friends to get the ingredients

speaking of friends, it seems like they're always over, or always sending messages checking up on her--though sometimes she has to kick them out, since she doesn't have as much energy to spare anymore

it frustrates her to no end, and she's ranted to Fitz many a time about how unproductive she feels, and he reminds her she's literally growing a person with her body 24/7, how could that possibly be unproductive?

she still complains

he still listens

they revisit a cognate skill long forgotten, and Fitz starts visiting her emotional center more and more to tune in to how she's feeling; it's nowhere near Sophie's experience, but it does help

Fitz's mind is almost always seeking out Sophie's, not making contact but just there, near, waiting just in case. he's not sure for what, but it makes him feel more at ease

because the further things go, even he's starting to get nervous--though maybe that's Sophie's anxiety bleeding over a little. her knowledge of human pregnancies and birth does not make this easier for her, even with all her experience with elven medicine

when they finally start collecting baby things to his immense delight, it seems like every time Fitz goes out he comes back with something new.

not only for baby, but he's spoiling Sophie, too. she tries to stop him after a while because it's ridiculous, but there's no reasoning with him, and she is flattered

one of her favorites is a balm he consulted Elwin on for her back, as baby's big enough its really starting to ache; he helps her put it on in the mornings and night, and it quickly becomes one of her favorite parts of the day

when he's done he always kisses her shoulder, and hugs her from behind once she's put her shirt on, and her hands rest on top of his for a moment over their baby

Fitz isn't sure exactly when the habit started, but he's started transmitting to the baby, not that they can hear it; but he likes to say it, doting on them and whispering sweet things just between the two of them as he and Sophie settle for the night

Sophie falls asleep easier, which he's grateful for, because she's always exhausted, which he's not

he brushes his thumbs against her skin as she sleeps, transmitting towards her stomach, and he can't help staying awake to stare at her in awe, still giddy all these months later, and hoping the baby will have her eyes

#kotlc #sophitz #sophitz positivity #quil's queries #nonsie #kept it simple and classic #hopefully this is somewhat what you were looking for #but if not shoot me another ask and I'll try again! #kicking my feet twirling my hair they're so <333 #damn 1.6k words...I am obsessed with them I suppose

[ddarker-dreams]

Maiden of Ice. Yan Eula x Reader

Warnings: Yandere themes, unhealthy relationships, codependency and emotional manipulation.  Word count: 1.2k. Note: eula. makes my heart. go !?!?!?!? ?!?!!!! hngnngng girl  l pret,ymty

Her eyes remind you of both the eternal night sky above and the morning glow of a fresh day’s sunrise.

You suppose it was fitting — this dual display of two extremes — neither side infringing upon the other. Should you inspect closer, you’d come to notice your purposefully neutral expression reflecting atop the split hues of mauve and gold. It’s when you notice this detail that you break eye contact. The last thing you want is to see yourself in such a deplorable state.

What you find repulsive, Eula finds breathtaking.

“I don’t want them to say those things about you anymore,” your cries remind her of the fairytales she read as a young girl. Where the princess would mourn her lover in his final moments, making for a bittersweet ending. Growing up an ostracized outcast, she never once entertained the fantasy of someone as lovely as you mourning over her; was this a dream? Fate’s way of apologizing for her unfair upbringing, by gifting you?

If that were the case… then who was she to deny the workings of the divine?

Eula’s hands, capable of carrying the great weight of claymores with practiced ease, hesitate to touch you as if you would shatter at the slightest pressure. This was different from clasping the handle of her weapon. There’s no set instruction that she’s been taught and expected to memorize, no passed on manuals from each generation to the nest that can guide her. Does she reassure you with her words? Hold you close to her chest until the tears stop running? Or even better yet…

She shifts in her seat, though her refined posture never relaxes. “Why does it upset you so?”

The campfire in front of you both flickers, waning enough to require attention, but Eula cannot fathom taking her eyes off of you. A shadow is cast over your face by her inquiry. You wear your heart on your sleeve, a quality that Eula finds precious if not useful, there’s no doubting what emotions whirl inside you at any given moment.

As of right now, the emotion painting your pretty face is indignation.

“Because I know who you really are. It’s unfair that— that all of your efforts get dismissed just like that. I hate it.” Your voice starts strong but steadily loses its force, until you’re almost whispering, indulging her in affirmation.

You say that you know who she really is and she wonders if that’s true.

There are lots of mischievous little secrets that she has kept, locked and hidden far away from your innocent gaze.

“Please don’t concern yourself over it,” she crosses her legs and gives an idyllic, closed-mouth smile. “What others say does not bother me like it used to.”

There it is — that lovely way you crease your eyebrows in concern, empathy burning bright for your companion. Eula has mastered the subtle art of language. Her phrasing is intentional and effective; a gentle callback to her old wounds so you would dote over her like she knew you would.  A dirty trick, perhaps, but she wants to drown in everything you have to offer.

“Oh, Eula,” you wipe the corners of your eyes hurriedly. “Here I am, making this all about me. I can’t imagine how you must feel.”

Your arms encircle her dainty shoulders, pulling her into a loving embrace. Delight flutters in her chest at yet another small victory. Her face does not betray her inner emotions, remaining schooled if not a touch solemn to incite further sympathy. It works like a charm.

She rests her head in the crook of your neck, breathing in your light floral scent, the scent of a home she’s never had. “Tell me, [First]. Do you ever find yourself believing the rumors about me?”

Of course you wouldn’t, but it’s not like you need to know that she’s aware of that. The praise that falls from your lips about her is lovelier than any ballad, more intoxicating than multiple glasses filled to the brim with dandelion wine. There was a time where she would’ve considered this behavior disgraceful. In her more sober moments, she would vacillate between wanting to stop, and thinking that it was too late by now. The shaky resolve that she would sometimes work up to cease relying so heavily on you would shatter the second you were in her presence again.

How could she be expected to deny herself this one pleasure after a lifetime of loneliness?

“There’s no way I could ever believe those lies!” You exclaim with a huff, your lips curling into a grimace at the mere concept. She suppresses another pleased smile. This got you riled up, just as she had hoped. What life-giving nectar in the form of words would you offer her now? It’s a taste she would never tire of.

“The Eula I know is strong, beautiful, and caring in her own way,” you cross your arms over your chest and scrunch your nose up. “If people took the time to know you better, they’d see that.”

Eula could care less what anyone other than you thought of her. As long as you lavished her in love and attention, she was content, a sense of peace that surpasses all understanding soothing her.

She quirks an eyebrow. “That’s rather high praise for you to give.”

“I mean every word of it, y’know. There’s no need to be so humble. I admire so much about you.”

There’s no doubting that you were an angel, and she’d do anything to keep you for herself, even if it meant clipping your wings.

“Trying to embarrass me, are you? I’ll remember this.” Eula adores the way you rush to defend yourself, your arms waving around and body language suddenly tense.

“N-no, it’s not like that! I… I really do just feel that way, and—“

She interrupts your wild rambling by placing a gloved finger to your lips. “I will forgive you just this once.”

You sigh in relief, sinking down to rest your head onto her lap with a cute pout. “Thank goodness. I’d never want to upset you, I wouldn’t know what to do with myself if I did.”

Eula fights the urge to run her hands up and down your back. That wasn’t her place just yet, though it would be soon with time and meticulous planning. She was new to navigating these volatile emotions that you instilled. Lucky for her, she has always been a quick study.

“The list of grievances I have against you is short, so it will be some time before I enact my vengeance. Consider yourself fortunate.”

The carefree giggle you give in return to her declaration is enough to make her head spin. It reminds her of the wind chimes hanging from shops in downtown Mondstadt, a gentle sound that blends into the breeze.

“What would your vengeance against me look like, I wonder?”

She has more ideas than you could ever hope to fathom.

“You’ll just have to wait and see.”

#eula x reader #eula lawrence x reader #yandere eula x reader #genshin impact #yandere genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact imagine #yandere #yandere x reader #my stuff

[queenshelby]

The Policeman’s Daughter – Part Two

Pairing: Thomas Shelby x Reader

Warning: Mention of Assault, Murder, Fluff, Mild Smut

Words: 2,345

Birmingham, 12 September 1924

It was Saturday night and seven days have passed since your encounter with Thomas Shelby and you have not heard from him. Perhaps he had changed his mind, you thought. You could understand if he did. He was probably still grieving the death of his wife or perhaps you simply weren’t a match for him.

Over the past seven days, you had learned that Thomas Shelby and his family owned most of the factories and industrial buildings in Small Heath as well as several streets of back-to-back housing.

He must have been a wealthy man with no interest in a common woman like you.

That same night, your father was away for work, investigating two recent murders in Small Heath in a pub called the Garrison and he had left you with two men who were employed by the Crown as security guards.

You felt safe with the men around the house and certainly didn’t expect an intrusion to occur on that night. But you were wrong. You weren’t safe at all. At least so it seemed as, at around 8 o’clock, you heard a knock on one of the windows behind where you were sitting, inside the reading room which was facing the forest.

Your heart began to pound as you turned around and peeked through the curtain only to find that it was Thomas.

Surprised and shocked all at the same time, you quickly opened the window while covering up your skin with a large satin robe.

‘What are you doing here?’ you asked with slight anger.

‘I said I would find you’ Tommy smirked, whispering as he did. ‘Get your coat’ he then instructed, not really giving you a choice to say no.

‘I am not leaving the house with an armed man who I barely know’ you said reluctantly and Tommy raised his eyebrows for a short moment before giving you a smile.

‘Fair enough’ Tommy said, reaching beneath his coat, taking the gun out of his holster and handing it to you.

‘Now you are an armed woman leaving with an unarmed man’ he then smirked and you couldn’t help but chuckle.

You quickly got your coat and boots from the next room, not bothered by the fact that, beneath all this, you would be wearing only a thin nightgown.

Tommy then held the window open and helped you to climb outside while ensuring that you wouldn’t slip on the wet grass.

‘So where are we going?’ you asked quietly, knowing very well that you shouldn’t be going anywhere with this stranger. You didn’t know why, but for some reason, you trusted him. His deep blue eyes appeared honest and comforting in a way and your attraction towards him clearly had gotten the better of you.

‘Just follow me, eh’ Tommy said somewhat reassuringly before taking your hand.

‘My father is a policeman and will get very angry if something was to happen to me’ you said nervously, wanting to ensure your own safety.

‘A copper, eh?’ Tommy said somewhat unbothered, thinking that your father is probably one of Moss’s men and therefore on his payroll.

You simply nodded and then followed Tommy into the woods, nervously and excited all at the same time.

After about fifteen minutes, you reached a small camp near the river and Tommy was quick to introduce you to some of the men, women and children who were there.

‘I thought you might like to be with kin for a change’ Tommy said after he introduced to the Lee family.

‘Your mother used to travel with us when she was young’ a woman named Esmeralda said to you and it was obvious to you that Tommy had told her your name. It was also clear that Tommy had done his research on you before visiting you that night.

You immediately felt comfortable around the Lee Family and spent several hours at the camp, talking, drinking and eating.

Whilst you appreciated Tommy’s gesture, introducing you to the Lees after what you had told him about your life when you met at the orphanage, you also desperately wanted to be alone with him and get to know him better. He seemed to know so much about you while you knew so little about him.

Eventually, Tommy noticed that you were cold, clearly not dressed for the occasion and he finally suggested that you sit down by the fire with him.

‘Go on Tommy Boy’ Johnny Dogs shouted after you as followed Tommy to the fireplace near the river bank.

In response, Tommy swore using gypsy tongue, before telling you to ignore Johnny Dogs. According to Tommy, he hadn’t been accompanied by a woman since his wife Grace had passed away and, therefore, your presence took Johnny Dogs by surprise.

As you finally reached the fireplace and you sat down on of the blankets scattered around it, Tommy took off his coat and placed it over you in order to keep you warm.

‘Thank you’ you said shyly as his blue eyes locked with yours. ‘Now tell me Tommy, how did you know where I live?’ you asked curiously, knowing that you had never told him your address.

‘I simply asked your employer’ Tommy winked and it was when you realised that you just asked him a completely silly question. Of course, he knew your address. The charitable organisation of which he was the founder and chairman had signed your employment contract.

‘You never told me what brought you to Birmingham’ Tommy then went on to say before asking you to hand him the cigarettes from the pocket of his coat.

But, as you reached into the pocket on the right to retrieve his cigarettes, smokes weren’t all you found. In fact, the first thing you inadvertently took out was a small case containing a blue bottle of cocaine and a brown bottle of opium which, without questions, you quickly put back into their place.

‘My father’s work is what brought us here’ you eventually said as you handed Tommy his cigarettes.

‘You said he is a copper, right?’ Tommy observed before lighting himself a cigarette and you nodded before Tommy continued on.

‘What is a copper from London doing in Birmingham? It doesn’t seem like a good career move to me’ Tommy chuckled and you simply told him that he wanted a change of scenery for the both of you and an easier life.

‘Well, I am not sure if he came to the right place then, eh’ Tommy laughed.

‘Why, is there a lot of crime here?’ you then went on to ask and Tommy shook his head.

‘Just the usual brawls you can expect in a town full of working men’ Tommy chuckled before quickly changing the topic.

You then talked for at least an hour about your respective upbringings and gypsy roots and Tommy appeared genuine and kind. It was obvious to you that he felt attracted towards you and, over the hour, you moved closer and closer towards each other, sharing one cigarette after another as you talked for what felt like an eternity.

You sat so close to him that you could smell the scent of his aftershave, a hint of musk and sweetness and it was at this point that Tommy made an admission to you.

‘I have to be honest Y/N. I didn’t just bring you out here to introduce you to the Lee Family’ Tommy said, just as the moment was right.

‘So, what are your alternate motives then Mr Shelby?’ you asked shyly but with a smile.

‘This’ Tommy responded quietly while caressing your face with one of his hands before drawing your face towards his with ease and pressing his lips onto yours.

You gave into the kiss, parting your lips slightly as you did and allowing his tongue to explore your mouth.

His lips were soft and warm and you ran your hands through his hair gently as you deepened the kiss.

Tommy’s hands then moved from your face over your chest and beneath his warm coat, brushing your breasts in the process.

It was at this point you abruptly pulled away and began to breathe heavily. His hands were too close to the scar which carried all your bad memories.

‘Don’t. I am sorry’ you said, your hands shaking as you broke out in tears.

‘Hey, look at me Y/N’ Tommy said calmly, unsure why you reacted the way you did but wanting to calm you down and comfort you.

‘Whatever it is, its alight, eh’ Tommy said, his both cupping your face, making you look at him and nod.

‘I am so sorry. I just…’ you said, looking down at the fire, unable to finish your sentence as tears built up in the corners of your eyes again.

Tommy sat there patiently, telling you to breathe before wiping your tears away with his thumbs.

‘I am ashamed of my body Tommy. I just am not ready for this’ you went on to say and Tommy looked at you, his eyes full of questions.

‘Then we won’t’ Tommy said calmly, his thumb running over your cheek as he smiled at you. ‘Although, you really have no reason to be ashamed. You are beautiful’ Tommy then whispered reassuringly before giving you another quick kiss, intending to leave at this for the night.

‘Yeah, well, you say this now but that might change when you see the hideous scar covering my stomach’ you said rather upset and it was at this point that Tommy stood up, took off his suit jacket and began to unbutton his shirt.

You weren’t quite sure what he was doing and you were slightly concerned about his actions when he suddenly pulled you up and reached for your hand.

‘Count them’ Tommy said as he guided your hand over his bare chest before telling you to reach behind him and run your hand over his back.

‘Six’ you said, swallowing harshly, realising that he had just a few more scars than you which evidentially all came from bullets and stabbings.

‘Seven actually’ Tommy chuckled as your hand left his chest and you took Tommy’s hand and guided it beneath your nightgown and right over your scar.

Your scar was large, covering the right side of your abdomen. But Tommy didn’t seem bothered and simply kissed you again, as passionately as he could and you would allow him.  

‘Who did this to you?’ Tommy then asked as your lips drifted apart and it was at this point that you broke down, confiding him about what had happened to you.

You never confided in anyone before and the truth was, you didn’t know why you told Tommy that night. But you felt that it was the right thing to do.

Shortly thereafter, Tommy walked you back home and, just as you reached the house and sneaked past the security guards which, quite evidentially didn’t do their job, Tommy kissed you again, gently but yet passionately.

‘Can I see you again?’ he then asked and you nodded shyly.

‘I didn’t think you would want to after tonight’ you said somewhat embarrassed about how things had ended.

‘You have no idea, do you?’ Tommy chuckled just as one of the security guards came walking around the house.

Without his coat and gun, Tommy kissed you goodbye in a rush before disappearing into the night, ensuring that he wouldn’t get caught.

‘Everything alright Miss?’ one of the guards asked, curious as to what the noises were which he had heard.

‘Yes, just two rabbits out and about. So cute’ you said as you stuffed Tommy’s coat and gun beneath the blanket on the sofa while looking out of the window.

‘Rabbits?’ the guard asked.

‘Yes, the small animals with the big ears and the fluffy tail’ you said.

Birmingham, 17 September 1924

Following your evening at the river with Tommy, you hadn’t heard from him for days and thought again that, perhaps, he had changed his mind.

But he didn’t and, on the morning of the 17th of September, you received a telegram, delivered to your house along with the daily newspaper your father had ordered.

With a cup of coffee, you sat down in the reading room, opening the telegram.

****

‘Y/N,

I ensured that this telegram would only reach you in your father’s absence.

Meet me tonight, at 8 o’clock. Your father will be busy and security will be taken care of. I will be waiting for you outside the gate of your property’

Tommy’

****

After you read the telegram, you couldn’t help but smile while a feeling of warmth and butterflies rushed through your body.

Nonetheless, you were surprised by his influence. How did he know that your father would be busy and how would he take care of security, you wondered?

But those thoughts soon left your mind when you opened the newspaper and read the headlines.

****

Judge dead in house explosion

Judge Kent has died along with his 24-year-old son in what appeared to have been a house explosion caused by two hand grenades.

Mysteriously, their death occurred just an hour before two killings in a London Nightclub in which another two men had been shot. This also appeared to be a targeted attack.

The two men identified as Jonathan Cohen and Lucas Cohen, friends and acquaintances of the Judge’s Kent’s son who, several years ago, escaped charges for assault.

Whether the murders are linked is yet to be determined and no arrests were made.

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#Tommy Shelby #tommy shelby smut #tommy shelby x reader #tommy shelby imagine #thomas shelby #thomas shelby smut #thomas shelby x reader #thomas shelby imagine #cillian murphy #cillian murphy smut #Cillian Murphy x Reader #cillian murphy imagine #Peaky Blinders #peaky blinder imagine #peaky blinders fanfic #peaky blinders imagine

[sakura-samsara]

Shigehira Main Story: Chapter 2

← Chapter 1

CW for this chapter: mild language and implied harassment. Please read with care!

✧ part one

I was crushed by the realization of my own irrationality yesterday, and tears began to well up in my eyes despite myself, but at that moment—

???: Release her at once.

(…! That voice…)

I raised my head to look at who had just spoken—and my eyes widened in shock at the sight.

Shigehira: What's going on here? This many grown men have ganged up just to harass a lone woman…

Shigehira: What a shameful sight.

Yoshino: Shigehira...san?

(Why…?)

(Even after he said all he did last night, why is he standing up for me now?)

Shigehira approached us with dignified poise, then inserted himself between me and Naoie to forcibly separate him from me.

His eyes, which had been as cold as ice when he spoke to me yesterday, now had a faint flame flickering behind them.

(Is Shigehira-san angry…?)

Shigehira: You lot are samurai who came into Yoritomo-sama’s service a few months ago, aren’t you?

Naoie: …Heh! I’m surprised you know about newcomers like us.

Naoie: Anyways, can you leave us alone now, Shigehira…sama?

Mockingly emphasizing the honorific, Naoie threw his shoulders back with a swagger.

Naoie: Oh, no, excuse me. You’re the “Peony Blossom Lord,” aren’t you?

Samurai 1: Oh, yeah. The ladies around here are always making a fuss about you. Seems like you’re pretty popular with 'em.

(These people said they only joined the shogunate recently, and they seem younger than Shigehira-san is…)

(It seems like they don’t have much respect for Shigehira-san.)

They addressed him with honorific words and the bare minimum of polite language, but their tone stung with hostility.

Shigehira: I'm used to hearing people praise my appearance, but right now my concern is with the situation at hand.

Samurai 2: Hah, you’re as stuck-up as anyone would expect, Taira no Shigehira-sama.

Samurai 3: Turning traitor against the Heike and running to the shogunate with your tail between your legs… You’ve got to have thick skin on your pretty face to be able to live with yourself for doing that.

Yoshino: Turning traitor…?

I repeated the samurai’s words under my breath as I looked at Shigehira. The calm expression on his beautiful face had not become disturbed in the slightest.

(Oh, that’s right… “Taira” is the family name used by members of the Heike—the Taira samurai clan.)

I’d heard about the great war that was once fought between the Taira and Minamoto clans.

The Genji, led by Yoritomo, defeated the Heike in a battle that had shaken the earth and heavens.

(That’s something that even a commoner like me knows about.)

Naoie: “Not among the Heike, not among the people.” That’s what your family used to say back in your day, yeah?

Naoie: Well, that doesn’t mean shit anymore.

Shigehira: Only a vulgar and base person will envy the fortune that another was born with.

Shigehira: Were you all not educated about that as well?

Naoie: …!

(He’s really provoking him…)

Samurai 3: The fuck did you say?!

Naoie: …Oi, you guys, cut it out.

The samurai surrounding us were seething with rage, but Naoie still maintained the barest bit of his composure and stopped them.

Naoie: Heh, it’s easy to tell you grew up as a pampered brat when you still talk just like one.

Naoie: But your fancy-ass upbringing didn’t give you the strength to survive that we have.

Naoie: I’m not listening to anything a weak person says, no matter what their status or standing or whatever is.

Shigehira: I see. If that’s the case—

Shigehira’s right hand touched the scabbard at his hip, producing the sound of a quiet click.

Yoshino: Wh…! Shigehira-san?!

All Samurai: ……!

Shigehira: Then you will listen to what I say if I prove that I am stronger than you, will you not?

✧ part two

Shigehira: Then you will listen to what I say if I prove that I am stronger than you, will you not?

Shigehira: That should be easy for you to understand, and it would put my mind at ease.

Naoie: …What did you say?

Yoshino: Shigehira-san, please don’t be so hasty!

(That must mean he’s challenging them to a fight… This can't be good at all!)

Shigehira: Be quiet.

His curt words made me hold my tongue.

Naoie: No way! Are you seriously challenging me to a duel?

Shigehira: That is what I said. Are you not even capable of comprehending that?

Naoie’s eyes blazed hot with fervor.

Naoie: No, I got what you meant. But if I beat you, I want you to acknowledge your lack of ability and apologize to me.

Naoie: And on top of that, I want you to never butt in on what we're doing ever again.

(That’s...!)

Shigehira: That's fine. I don't care.

Shigehira: But I'll make an addition to my conditions. If I win, I also want you to promise that you will not make any advances towards this woman again.

Naoie: Hah, sure. That's no problem.

(He looks like he doesn’t consider the possibility that he might lose even in the slightest…)

(But it is true that Naoie-san and the other samurai have powerful physiques, and they seem confident in their own strength and skill.)

On the other hand, Shigehira’s graceful figure seemed like it didn’t possess even the slightest amount of strength.

I watched anxiously as the tension of the situation rapidly escalated.

Shigehira: This is too conspicuous of a place for a duel. We should arrange another time and place for it.

Shigehira: I suggest this evening, in the gymnasium within the palace.

Naoie: Fine by me. Please don’t run away, Shigehira-sama.

Samurai 1: I’m looking forward to seeing you in tears. And I’ll see you later, too, babe~

Naoie and the other samurai took their leave.

(What should I do…)

Shigehira: Well, then.

Once the two of us were left alone together, Shigehira turned and glared at me with an indignant look on his face.

Shigehira: The only reason I intervened was because I had just happened to pass by at the moment.

Shigehira: It seems like you have a knack for getting yourself into trouble…

Shigehira: Is it some kind of medical condition??

It might be a condition (Romantic+2/Dramatic+4) If I had a condition… (Romantic+4/Dramatic+4) I don’t think I have a condition (Romantic+4/Dramatic+2)

Yoshino: If I had a condition like that, I’d be able to treat it with medicine like any physical ailment, right?

Shigehira: No medicine would be able to cure a condition like yours, so you’d better take good care of yourself.

(Was that just his roundabout way of calling me dumb!?)

(But, more importantly…)

Yoshino: Um, thank you very much for helping me! But the duel—

Shigehira: Don’t get the wrong idea.

(Wah-!)

Shigehira pursed his lips petulantly.

He pointed a slender, neatly manicured finger in my direction.

Shigehira: I’m fighting for my own sake.

Shigehira: …I didn't know that they were acting disgracefully towards you and treating you like a courtesan before I challenged them.

(Is that true…?)

(But, at the time that he first saw those samurai getting rough with me earlier,)

(Shigehira-san was definitely angry already.)

If Shigehira truly believed what he told me yesterday, then I couldn’t think of any reason why he would have helped me just now.

Shigehira: I have no intention of continuing to speak to you. Now go back to your room.

✧ part three

Shigehira: I have no intention of continuing to speak to you. Now go back to your room,

Shigehira: If you don’t want to get involved in this any further.

Yoshino: But you only got caught up in this situation because of me!

Yoshino: So please, at least let me be present for your duel.

(In case he gets hurt during the fight, he’ll need someone to take care of his injuries.)

I clasped my hands together as I pleaded to him…

For a moment, Shigehira looked as though he was about to say something, but then sighed as though he had no other choice while he turned his back towards me.

Shigehira: ...Do whatever you want.

 

The evening arrived in no time.

(What in the world is going to happen now…)

Shigehira: Shall we begin?

Rays of sunlight sloped into the simple training hall as Shigehira and I stepped inside. Naoie and the other samurai were already waiting within the hall.

Naoie: Please get ready. Ready for me to make you cry!

Shigehira: Enough with the insincere formalities.

Shigehira: I'd prefer that you spoke honestly, even if you’re being rude.

Samurai 2: You bastard… You’ve got some nerve talking to us like that.

Naoie: Fine then. I’ll speak as rudely to you as you want as long as we don’t have to talk outside this room.

Naoie: No matter how fragile and weak of a man you seem like you must be,

Naoie: If a subordinate of yours like me crushed you in combat, you’d be so embarrassed that you wouldn’t want to speak of it to anyone else or see my face again, right?

Samurai 3: Let’s get this over with quickly, Naoie-san.

Samurai 4: For sure. There’s a lady here, too. I want to get around to having some fun with her soon.

(Me?!)

The samurai leered at me, and I tensed up when I realized what his words meant. Shigehira, who had been standing beside me, suddenly shoved my shoulder.

Shigehira: Yoshino-san, you’re in the way right now. Go sit in the corner.

Yoshino: …Alright.

I followed Shigehira as he guided me towards the corner before I sat down against the wall.

Yoshino: Please, please be careful, Shigehira-san.

(I know he said he’s fighting for himself, and this isn’t my concern anymore, but…)

I had just felt like telling him that anyways. I looked up at him as he was about to leave…

Shigehira: …

Shigehira: Seriously…

(Huh...?)

With a pout on his face, he cupped both of his hands around my cheeks.

Shigehira: Stop making that face at me.

Yoshino: Wh—

Yoshino: What are you doing?!

He gently pinched my cheeks, and my voice involuntarily pitched up in surprise.

Shigehira: Be quiet.

Shigehira: You’re too weak to do anything about it, anyway, so just shut up and watch me win.

Shigehira: If you understand, answer me!

✧ part four

Shigehira: If you understand, answer me!

Yoshino: I-I understand.

(Why did he do that just now…?)

The setting sun’s light struck his eyes and made them sparkle as he fixed his gaze on me.

I blinked my eyes a few times, feeling a bit dazzled by the reflection of the light.

Samurai 1: Looks like you’re getting real cozy with her. I’m almost getting jealous.

Shigehira: Be at ease. I won’t keep you waiting any longer.

Shigehira left my side and walked to the center of the hall.

(Oh…)

Shigehira: We’ll use real blades rather than training weapons, won’t we?

He smoothly drew his sword from its scabbard, its blade glittering in the light.

Naoie: Hah, of course we will.

Naoie took his place in front of Shigehira in the center of the room, but then Shigehira turned his head to look at the other samurai off to the side.

Shigehira: What are the rest of you doing?

Samurai 1: Huh?

Shigehira: I’m sure that once I defeat him, you’re going to complain about how my victory was just a fluke or something.

Shigehira: That would just be a pain, so you should all come fight me.

(What did he just say!?)

Naoie: You'd better not be making fun of me!

Samurai 2: Bring it on!! I don’t want to hear any excuses from you, afterwards, either.

Samurai 3: There’s no way you’d be able to beat all of us!

Yoshino: Shigehira-san, please don’t do this! No matter how you look at it, taking on this many people is just reckless!

Shigehira: I told you to shut up. Did you forget that already?

(…No matter what I say, he just doesn’t listen.)

I watched anxiously as the other samurai joined Naoie in facing off against Shigehira.

Naoie: Then I won’t hold back… Let’s go!

(Aah!)

Naoie hit the ground running, vigorously brandishing his sword.

Shigehira: If you could spare the effort to announce yourself, you should have put it into attacking properly instead.

Naoie: ?! Huh?!

It seemed as though Shigehira had hardly moved when his sword had already caught the incoming blow.

Samurai 1: Son of a bitch!

Samurai 2: Let’s get him!

(This looks dangerous…)

Shigehira: That’s why—

Shigehira’s sleeve fluttered in the air.

I held my breath as my eyes were transfixed on him, and within an instant—

Naoie: Gh!

Shigehira advanced with the speed of lightning splitting the sky.

Naoie stumbled back as he was met with a heavy strike from Shigehira’s sword.

Shigehira: You raise your voice and run your mouth so much while you’re fighting.

Shigehira: It’s like you're just begging to be killed.

Samurai 1: Shit!

Another samurai’s incoming attack to Shigehira’s flank was easily parried and returned.

Yoshino: Amazing…

I murmured quietly under my breath, captivated by his skillful movements.

Samurai: This guy is a beast!

In the blink of an eye, two of the samurai were disarmed at once—their swords clattered to the ground.

Naoie regained his fighting stance after stumbling and grunted in disdain.

Naoie: …You’re stronger than I thought.

Shigehira: Thank you very much.

Shigehira: But doubting my strength in the first place was foolish of you, don’t you think?

Shigehira and Naoie’s blades clashed fiercely together once more, the collision of metal sending off sparks.

Yoshino: So this is how strong Shigehira-san is…

(I’d always thought that swordfighting was rough and frightening.)

(But, Shigehira-san is… Shigehira-san’s way of wielding a blade isn’t scary at all.)

(Instead, it’s…)

Yoshino: …Beautiful.

I was clenching my hands in anxiousness and excitement without even realizing it.

With each of his precise movements, Shigehira’s silver hair swayed and brushed against his lily-white face.

Shigehira: Next.

Samurai 3: Hrk!!

Samurai 4: I’m sorry, Naoie-san!

One of the samurai slashed at Shigehira from his right while another did so from his left, but Shigehira quickly knocked them both down.

(Now the only opponent left standing is Naoie-san!)

Naoie: How's this?!

(!!…)

Suddenly Naoie charged forward and brought down his sword with all his might—Shigehira intercepted the blow head-on with the center of his own blade.

Naoie continued to frantically swing his sword at his opponent, raining slash after reckless slash upon Shigehira.

Shigehira: Considering that you're the most loud-mouthed braggart I’ve ever had the displeasure of fighting, you’re not bad.

✧ part five

Shigehira: Considering that you're the most loud-mouthed braggart I’ve ever had the displeasure of fighting, you’re not bad.

Naoie: You son of a—I thought you looked weak!

Shigehira: Judging a person based on their appearance is something that only an idiot does.

Shigehira: However, you’ve proven yourself to be just as foolhardy as you look.

Naoie: Shit!

Naoie’s forehead was dripping with sweat, and it was clear to see that his endurance was wearing down.

Shigehira: Are you done now?

Naoie: …?!

Their blades clashed furiously over and over again. Then Shigehira suddenly broke the equilibrium of their evenly matched strikes, dashing forward and striking into Naoie’s stance.

Shigehira: I win.

The moment that Shigehira spoke those words, Naoie’s sword was struck out of his hand and whirled upwards into the air.

Naoie: I-I can still—

Naoie scrambled to reach for his sword, which had fallen to the ground with a great clang, but…

Shigehira: You just don’t know when to give up.

Shigehira thrust his blade at Naoie’s throat—the tip was just a hair's breadth away from piercing through his skin.

Naoie: What… How—

Yoshino: …He definitely won.

(Against not just one, but multiple opponents…)

Samurai 1: T-There’s no way Naoie-san was defeated, right?

Samurai 2: I’d never heard anything about that guy being this strong…

Shigehira: Weak people do not belong in the shogunate. If I wasn’t strong, I wouldn’t be here.

Shigehira: Instead making stupid excuses for your shoddy performance, you should be honest with yourselves and feel ashamed of your lack of ability.

Naoie and the others faltered with their words, unable to come up with a response.

(He really isn’t sparing them any mercy…)

(But Shigehira-san has proven his strength to them enough to be able to say such a thing.)

Suddenly, the conversation I had with Shigehira last night passed through my mind.

—flashback

Shigehira: You are weak.

Shigehira: First of all, you should start by being aware of that.

Yoshino: …Please let go of me!

—flashback ends

At that time, I felt hurt by what he said because I thought he was just being cruel to me.

(But now that I’ve seen how strong and capable Shigehira-san is, I can’t say anything about my own ability anymore.)

Shigehira sheathed his sword with a cool expression on his face. Then he addressed the samurai bluntly in a frigid tone of voice:

Shigehira: Now give me your word. You will never make another advance towards Yoshino-san.

(Shigehira-san…)

Naoie: …

Shigehira: Answer me.

Naoie: I… promise.

Naoie’s shoulders slumped as he dejectedly muttered his response.

Shigehira: Very well. That puts me at ease.

Shigehira: Do the rest of you have any objections?

All Samurai: …

The samurai, who had been boisterous and full of ego just before, now hung their heads and averted their eyes from Shigehira’s stern gaze.

Shigehira: If not, good.

As he spoke in a low voice, Shigehira suddenly turned back in my direction.

(Oh, he looks…)

(…Dazzling.)

His eyes glittered unbearably bright in the evening sunlight, and I suddenly turned my gaze away from him.

Shigehira: ...?

My body felt like it was heating up—surely it must have been a result of the anxiety I felt while watching the fierce duel.

Shigehira slowly began to walk towards me, peering at me suspiciously.

Shigehira: Hey. Why do you look so spaced out?

Shigehira: Don’t tell me that watching people fight made you feel weak in the knees or something.

Yoshino: …No, that’s not it!

Yoshino: B-But watching the duel did make me feel a little nervous, so I, um… froze up. Because I was nervous. That’s all!

I relaxed my hands, which had been anxiously squeezed into fists, and made the first excuse I could think of—only for it to end up sounding strange.

Shigehira: What’s that supposed to mean? You really are incomprehensible.

Shigehira muttered the words exasperatedly.

And then he sharply extended his hand towards me.

(Huh?)

Shigehira: If you can’t move, then there's no other choice. Here, hold on.

Shigehira: …Come on, quickly now.

Chapter 3 →

Notes:

I’ll translate Shigehira’s flattering sobriquet, 牡丹の君 (boutan no kimi), as “Peony Blossom Lord." 牡丹 (boutan) is the Japanese name for the moutan/tree peony flower, while -の君 (-no kimi) is a suffix that was historically used for the lords and ladies of the Heian-era noble court. Apparently the real Taira no Shigehira's appearance was likened to that of a peony blossom, which I can only assume was because he was really pretty. Incidentally, peonies are associated with wealth/fortune, nobility, and honor in Japanese culture, which seems to fit IkeGen Shigehira’s character very well.

Some historical context! Before the Heike (Taira clan) fell to the Genji (Minamoto clan) in the Genpei War of 1180, the Heike had great political influence in the Imperial Court. This was especially the case after the Heiji Rebellion of 1160, when Taira no Kiyomori (Shigehira’s father and the then-leader of the Heike) eliminated/banished his Genji rivals, and the highest positions in the court were monopolized by Heike members. As a result of having all that clout, the Heike became glutted with wealth and its members grew accustomed to the opulence of aristocratic life, which lost them the favor of the rest of the samurai class. I’d guess that this is part of the reason that Naoie and his friends look down on Shigehira, as they assume he must have had a lavish and privileged upbringing before his clan’s fall from grace.

“Not among the Heike, not among the people” is a direct quotation from the Tale of the Heike (平家物語, Heike Monogatari), an epic poem about the Genpei War and the fall of the Heike—it's an incredibly important and influential text in Japanese literature, much like the Odyssey or the Iliad in Western literature, and IkeGen makes many references to it (especially in Shigehira's route). In the Tale of the Heike, this phrase was said by Taira no Tokitada, a Heike noble and commander (who was also Shigehira’s uncle). One interpretation of the phrase is that “the people” meant the Imperial Court, implying that a person could only be successful in the court if they were a member of the Taira clan. Another interpretation is that Tokitada was calling those who were not part of the Heike—especially their rival clan, the Genji—less-than-human.

#ikemen genjiden #ikemen genjiden shigehira #shigehira main story #ikemen genjiden translations

[nhlandotherimagines]

Family isn’t Always Blood- Part 1 Elias Pettersson x Fem!OC

Masterlist | Part 2 | Part 3 |

Summary: Kinsey Waters, has never known family. Not a good one anyway. So when her boyfriend, Elias Pettersson, his family, and friends all start making comments about the pair starting a family of their own, she panics. Can she even be a good mother? What if she can’t? Will Elias leave her?

Author’s Notes: So here we go with Part 1! This will be a 3 part series, and it’s very self indulgent, so I hope some of you can also enjoy it! Any and all feedback is greatly appreciated! Thank You!

Word Count: approx. 4.4 k

Warnings: talks of divorce, absent parents, mentions of children/pregnancy, briefly implied sexual acts (nothing too spicy I promise), some strong language at times, self doubt and negative self-talk, some fluff too of course! Baby fever maybe? If there is anything else I should be adding here please let me know!!

———

Sometimes life isn’t fair. Maybe most of the time even. I often wonder what I did to deserve the life I’ve been given. Why I was born into a family devoid of love, why my parents would bring a child into the world to live their life yearning for their mother’s affection, and why a broken family is all I would ever see. These questions continue to plague my mind to this day, but at least now I can say I know a loving family is something that can, and does, exist. 

A real family exists in the form of the Pettersson’s. At first, I was jealous of my boyfriend’s upbringing, and if I’m honest, I still am to a certain extent. Elias cares so deeply for everyone. His teammates, his friends, his brother, his parents, and honestly just everyone he meets. Including me. Although it has been hard to accept that someone with no obligation to, actually cares about me, Elias does his best to show me every day.

I watch from the opposite side of the room as Elias FaceTimes his family, and a sad smile forms on my lips. His voice is gentle, yet excited, as he speaks animatedly to his family in Swedish. His mom, Irene, obviously gushing over her son, has tears stinging my eyes. I haven’t spoken to my mother in years, not that I want to talk to her, but watching how Elias’ eyes light up as soon as he sees her, has me wishing I had someone like that. Anyone really.

“She’s coming to visit next month.” Elias smiles, placing a gentle kiss to my hairline, pulling me from my thoughts. “She is excited to meet you in person.”

“I’m excited to meet her too! Did you tell her to bring the photo albums?” I tease with a wink, earning a chuckle from Elias.

“Don’t you worry, even if she forgets them, odds are she will try and smuggle you back to Sweden with her! She’s going to love you.” he smiles against my lips as he places a sweet kiss to them. I let the stress of meeting his mother melt away as he kisses me. Maybe it won’t be so bad.

------

“Elias cares for you a lot.” Irene speaks softly from her seat next to me. The other family and friends buzzing around during warmups, absolutely oblivious to the nerves that have been coursing through me from the moment I stepped into the rink. 

“I care for him too. He is a great man, you did a fantastic job raising him.” I smile at her, hoping she hears the sincerity in my compliment.

“He is wonderful.” She pauses, looking down to the ice watching as her son interacts with the fans. I follow her gaze, and watch as Elias interacts with a little girl. A wide grin on his face as he throws a puck over the glass to her. My heart flutters and I can’t fight the smile forming on my face. “He will make a fantastic father.” 

Her words cause a wave of nausea to rip through me, and I’m glad she is so focused on her son. Elias and I haven’t spoken about children or the future much at all yet. I’m sure he would make a great father, there is no doubt in my mind. Me on the other hand? I’m sure I would be a poor excuse for a mother. 

It’s not even that I don’t want kids. I love them, and I’d love to have a tiny little forever friend, but I can’t. You see, to become a good writer all I had to do was read the work of as many talented writers as possible, and from them I learned how to be a good writer. Therefore it would make sense that, to be a good mother, one would have to learn from a good mother. Something that I have not had the pleasure of knowing.

I don’t respond to Irene’s comment, but she doesn’t seem to notice. She also doesn’t notice how uneasy I am for the entire game, and for that I am thankful. 

Her son however, knows me much better. “What’s wrong?” He asks the moment we are alone in his bedroom that evening after the game. Of course he can tell, I’ve been off all night. I shake my head as I change into a pair of shorts and one of his hoodies. “Kins, come on. What did she say to you?” His voice is pleading now.

“Elias, it’s nothing I promise. Your mother is fantastic, I love her.” I smile over my shoulder at him as I make my way into the bathroom to wash off my makeup. Elias is hot on my heels, and he leans against the counter beside me. 

“So why are you acting so…” he pauses, frustration evident in his voice as he searches for the right word to use. “Weird?”

I let out a long sigh, and dry off my face before stepping into him. Wrapping my arms around his neck I give him a sad smile and take a deep breath. “She made a comment about how you were going to make a great father.” His hands that had fallen to my hips, give a quick reassuring squeeze.

“Okay, and did that bother you?” He asks, eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

“I mean I guess a little. I don’t know! She’s right, you would make a great father. It just felt like a lot of pressure I guess.” I want to say so much more. Tell him I don’t think I will be the one who makes him a father, but I’m too scared. I’m scared that me not wanting to give him children will be the end of this. 

“We are only young. She just loves babies!” He chuckles pulling me tighter to him. “We won’t be having them tomorrow or anything!” His comments do little to ease my mind, but he’s trying. I place a gentle kiss to his lips, and as I pull away a mischievous smile stares back at me.

“What?” I giggle, knowing he’s got something up his sleeve.

“We could always practice the act of baby making.” He wiggles his eyebrows suggestively, and I swat at his chest.

“Elias! Your mother is down the hall, get your head out of the gutter!” We are both laughing now, and Elias’ smile melts my heart. He always knows exactly how to make me feel better, I have no idea where I’d be without him.

“Guess we'll just have to be quiet!” Before I can even respond, Elias is lifting me into the air. My legs instinctively wrap around his waist, a squeal escaping my lips. Elias’ lips meet mine in an attempt to silence me, and before I know it he’s laying me back on his bed. “I love you Kinsey.” He is looking right at me, and the emotion behind his eyes is enough to have tears springing to my own.

“I love you too Elias.”

------

“Isn’t she beautiful?” The look on Elias’ face has my heart fluttering. Wrapped up in his arms is the newest addition to the Horvat family, Ava, a beautiful little girl. 

“She’s stunning, just like her Momma.” I smile over at Holly, trying to contain the fear wracking my body. Holly is such a great mom, and watching Elias holding the little girl so gently, has me wishing I was half the woman Holly was.

“You two next?” Bo chirps from his spot on the couch. Although meant in good nature, his words have my blood running cold. I don’t know if I can respond without vomiting, but thankfully Elias speaks so I don’t have to.

“I don’t think so.” He laughs, eyes never leaving the girl whose tiny fingers are now wrapped around his index finger. The sigh that leaves me after his response catches Holly’s attention, but she chooses to not question it.

“Excuse me.” I whisper, feeling a fresh wave of nausea, as I get up in search of the washroom. Talking about having kids, watching Elias being so perfect with Bo’s baby, the whole situation has my stomach churning. The thought of us not working out, because I don’t want to have babies with him is the last thing that crosses my mind before the contents of my stomach are finding their way back up my throat.

After I manage to pick myself up off the tiled bathroom floor, I rinse my mouth, wash my face, and take a good look in the mirror. The bags under my are the darkest they’ve been for months, and I look like shit to say the least. 

Running my fingers through my hair quickly I step out of the bathroom, only to be met by a very concerned Holly. “Are you okay?” She asked, placing a gentle hand on my shoulder. 

“I’m alright Holly, just haven’t been sleeping well for the last couple weeks.” The excuse falls quickly from my lips, and honestly there is a lot of truth to it. It’s been almost two full weeks of restlessness, and it’s getting old quickly. The nights spent in Elias’ apartment, consist of him asking what was wrong, and honestly I didn’t have an answer. I still don’t.

Holly nods in understanding, and I have no doubt she understands. The woman had just been pregnant for 9 months, and she also has a toddler running around. “I hope Bo’s comment didn’t upset you, he’s just teasing.” She adds, searching my face likely for a sign that she is right about what upset me.

“It’s fine really, it just seems to be coming up a lot lately. It’s not something Elias and I have talked about very seriously yet though.” Sure, maybe that was too much information to unload on a woman I hardly knew, but I already felt a bit of the weight lifting from my shoulders.

“Maybe it’s something you should talk about, especially if it makes you so upset to think about.” The smile she sends me is sympathetic, and I can tell she knows there is more to the story. 

Thankfully though, she doesn’t press any further and turns back towards the living room. I follow closely behind her watching my feet as we walk. Holly stops short of the living room however, and I walk into her back. “Wha-“ I start to question her, but as I lift my head she stares back at me with a finger pressed to her lips. The confusion must be evident on my face, because before I can even question the action she is nodding her head towards the two men in the living room.

“She’s a good one Petey.” Bo smiles at Elias who now has the baby cradled against his chest.

“She’s perfect Bo, my Mom loves her.” As I quickly realize that I’ve become the topic of conversation, my cheeks heat in embarrassment.

I feel the urge to run away, interrupt them, or maybe just cover my ears. Anything really, because I wasn’t meant to hear this conversation. With Bo’s next question though, I’m unable to do any of those things. Instead I stand frozen. “And what about you? Do you love her?”

Yes, Elias and I have said those three words to each other many times. However, never in front of his teammates, and a part of me wonders if he just told me what he thought I wanted to hear. “Honestly Bo,” the unsure breath that leaves Elias has my heart racing, “I didn’t know I could love someone this much.”

I hadn’t felt the tear slip down my cheek until it hit the hand that was now covering my mouth. I quickly wipe it away, and attempt to compose myself before anyone sees. Maybe it’s hormones, or maybe it’s just how intensely I feel for Elias, but I’m not normally this emotional.

As Elias lifts his gaze from the small girl on his chest, his eyes find mine. A smile breaks across my face, and the whole world seems to stop. For a moment I see it clearly, this isn’t Bo and Holly’s home anymore, it’s ours. The baby on Elias’ chest isn't a Horvat, it’s a Pettersson. It’s our baby. For a small moment I let myself live in that fantasy, allowing the desire of living that perfect life with Elias to grow. 

It’s Holly’s voice that pulls me out of it, “Well I’m sure this little one is getting hungry, and I bet you could use a break as well Petey.” Holly carefully scoops the baby out of Elias’ arms, and he stands from his seat walking towards me. His hand finds my waist as I watch Holly, Bo and the baby interact. The moment feels so personal I feel bad for watching, but I can’t look away. It’s moments like that, two parents totally in love and caring so deeply for their child, that I have always craved. Parents that put their children before all else, and want nothing more than for them to succeed? For me, that’s only ever been a dream. Something only found in movies and books. The reason I will never cut it as a mother.

———-

“Thank you so much for doing this you guys!” 

Somehow I had let Elias talk me into babysitting Ava while Bo and Holly went on a date night. Thankfully, their eldest, Gunnar, would be staying with one of his friends tonight, because one baby to look after was enough. Not to mention I’ve been sick to my stomach all day, likely just with the thought of being responsible for a baby. “It’s not a problem! You two deserve a night off, go have fun!” 

Holly smiles, handing me a bag of things as she tells me everything I’ll need to know about when Ava will need to sleep and eat. I mentally take note of all the information and usher the couple out the door. Once they’ve left, I make my way to the kitchen to prepare a bottle for Ava. 

When it’s ready, I walk into the living room to find Elias shuffling around the room with Ava in his arms. He’s pointing at pictures on the mantle, and speaking gently to her in Swedish. “I hate to interrupt, but I think it’s time for a bottle.” I smirk, shaking the bottle in the air as Elias turns toward me.

With a small smirk, Elias settles himself into the armchair, positioning Ava so he can give her the bottle. I hand it over to him and sit on the arm of the chair beside him, threading my fingers through his blonde hair. He hums in approval as Ava begins drinking the bottle. We stay like that, Ava happily drinking in his arms, Elias holding the bottle smiling fondly down at her, and me playing with Elias’ hair and watching them both. 

He’s so happy like this. So happy in fact that I can’t help but wonder if hockey is really what Elias was made for. Sure, he’s wonderful at it, one of the best there is obviously. I’m almost certain now though, Elias was made to be a father. The way he holds this baby like he’d give the world to protect her, and she’s not even his own blood, has tears forming in my eyes. 

“Kins?” Elias speaks softly, still not having removed his eyes from Ava who is struggling to stay awake. I hum in response, and he finally lifts his head. “Why don’t you want kids?”

This certainly isn’t how I expected to have this conversation. I have never told him I didn’t want kids. “How do you know I don’t want them?” I ask, my voice definitely giving away how nervous I am.

“Every time someone brings up the idea of us having children you get all in your head.” He sends me a sad smile, and although he isn’t trying to sound disappointed, it’s not hard to tell he is.

“I’m just not ready for kids.” The look Elias sends me definitely says he doesn’t believe me, and he wants me to elaborate, but I don’t. Instead I notice Ava has fallen asleep, and use that as an excuse to change the subject. “I’ll go put her to bed, why don’t you go have your shower now?”

As I carefully lift Ava from his arms, Elias watches me closely. It’s evident he wants to say something, but decides against it. 

As Elias heads off to the bathroom, I carry Ava down the hall and place her gently in the bassinet. She hardly stirs, and I take a moment to admire just how beautiful she is. She seems bigger now in the small bassinet, than she did in Elias’ arms. The thought has me crying as I lean against the wall. Elias, the man I’m sure is the love of my life, was made to be a father. I on the other hand, am the furthest thing from being capable of becoming a good mom. Once again, I’m painfully aware of just how unfair this is to Elias. He will have to leave me eventually, and now that he is obviously aware of the fact I don’t want children it’ll likely be sooner rather than later.

“Kinsey, baby, what’s wrong?” His presence startles me, and I quickly wipe the tears from my face.

“Nothing, I’m fine.” I whimper, my voice completely contradicting my statement. His arms are wrapped around me in an instant, and I push my face into his chest crying harder now. My body shakes against his, as he whispers, what I assume to be comforting words in Swedish.

“Y-you’re going to make such a great dad someday.” I’m sure I look a mess now as I lift my head from his chest to look at him. He smiles down at me, though it’s not hard to tell he is fighting off tears of his own.

“And you’ll be an amazing mother.” He’s trying to comfort me, but his statement has the exact opposite effect. 

I shake my head, a whole new batch of tears falling down my cheeks. “That’s the thing though- I won’t. I’m not made to be a parent, not like you are.” His soft expression has a wave of nausea rolling over me as I push away from him. “I’m sorry.”

Elias calls after me in a whisper yell, as to not wake the baby, but I’m too busy trying not to get sick to even acknowledge him. As soon as I make it to the bathroom, I collapse to my knees. Once again emptying the contents of my stomach, cursing myself for my weak stomach as more tears fall down my face. 

I’ve always been like this, as soon as my anxiety or fears get the better of me I get physically sick. Something my mother would scold me for constantly, saying it was for attention. Maybe there was some truth to that, but as I feel Elias brush my hair back out of my face, I want nothing more than to be all alone. I hate having anyone see me like this, so vulnerable and broken. I’m always worried it will scare them away, but Elias hands me a washcloth and pulls me against his chest as he leans against the tub.

“Do you want to talk about this?” His voice is so calm and his accent is heavy. I want nothing more than to confide in Elias, he is my person, but how can I tell him without breaking his heart?

“I don’t know how to be a mom, certainly not a good one.” I respond once I’m able to even out my breathing again.

“Answer one question for me okay?” He looks down at me, and I can feel the weight of his question before it’s even left those pretty lips of his. “Do you really not want to have children, or do you not want to have kids because you feel like you aren’t good enough? Because if you genuinely do not want to have kids you can tell me, and we can still work, but if you are scared you aren’t good enough we need to work on that.” 

“You have good parents that love each other, that love you. I’ve never had the same thing, how am I ever supposed to love a child properly?” My voice shakes, and as I watch the tears pool in Elias’ eyes, I feel awful. That’s a lot to unload on him. Yes, I’ve told him my parents divorced when I was younger, and that I wasn’t close with them now, but that one statement is more than I’ve ever shared.

“Kinsey, you show me every day how much you love me. You show your friends you care about them every chance you get. Hell, you even look after my teammates, and I know for a fact that you would go to the ends of the earth for anyone you care about. You know how to love others better than anyone I know.” Elias sighs, a tear slipping down his cheek, “I’m not saying you have to be a mom, that’s not my choice. All I’m saying is that you shouldn’t doubt yourself, and that no matter what you decide I love you.”

“You’re too good to me, you know that?” I smile at him, holding his cheek in the palm of my hand. “I’d kiss you, but I should probably brush my teeth first.” 

Elias frowns at my words, eyes filling once again with concern. “You should probably go see a doctor, you haven’t been feeling well lately.” 

“It’s just my anxiety Elias, I’m going to be okay.” I assure him, slowly getting to my feet. His hands go to my hips to steady me as I stand.

“If you’re that anxious it’s making you physically ill that’s not fine. I’m taking you to the doctor tomorrow okay?” He asks the question, but it’s evident that the only answer he is accepting is yes, so I just nod and help him to his feet.

As I brush my teeth, Elias’ arms wrap around me and he rests his chin on top of my head. He watches me closely in the mirror, a small smile playing on his lips. When I’m done, I turn in his arms and press up on my toes to kiss him gently. He holds me against him, and the kiss lasts longer than I had intended, but we quickly pull away when Ava starts crying.

“Go lay down, I’ve got her.” Elias says quickly, placing a kiss on my forehead and scurrying down the hall. 

Once again, I hear Elias cooing softly to the girl in Swedish. Maybe with Elias’ help I could be a mom. All I know right now is that, if I were to become a parent with anyone it would be him.

———

“Alright Miss Waters just a few questions for you real quick.” The doctor says, after finally entering the room Elias and I have been sitting in for what felt like an eternity. I shift uncomfortably on the bed, and the paper covering it crinkles loudly. “First, are you sexually active?”

My cheeks heat up slightly, and I look over at Elias who has a smirk on his face. “Yes.” I manage to answer, embarrassment rolling off of me.

“Okay, and is there any chance you could be pregnant?” This question has me laughing, and both the doctor and Elias look at me quizzically.

“I’m sorry-“ I manage to say, realizing no one else found the humour in the question. “No I’m not pregnant.”

“You sound pretty sure of that, how are you so certain? Are you on birth control?” The doctor's stare has my heartbeat increasing.

“N-no but I mean we always use condoms.” I manage to sputter out, and Elias reaches over and squeezes my hand.

“Right. Well I’m going to ask you to take a pregnancy test if you don’t mind, just to be 100% sure that’s not what’s causing the nausea. Although condoms are a fantastic contraceptive, they are only approximately 97% effective and that’s assuming they’re stored correctly and not expired.” 

“Oh okay. Sure yeah.” I look over at Elias, but his gaze is now on the floor. The doctor places the little cup on the table in front of me, and directs me towards the washroom.

When I’ve finished up, I make my way back into the room, and hand the cup to the doctor. He explains the process quickly and shuffles off to complete the tests leaving Elias and I alone. “You okay?” Elias asks after a moment of silence.

“I’m not pregnant. Right?” I ask, my eyes pleading with him for the answer. He sends a sad smile back and kisses my cheek gently. 

“We are going to find out babe, so don’t stress yourself out yet, but just so you know it doesn’t matter what that test says okay? If you aren’t pregnant and you want to be, great we will go home and get on that. If you are pregnant and you don’t want to be, then that’s okay too we can discuss our options. You are going to be okay. We are going to be okay.” He always knows what to say to make me feel better. I pull him into a hug, and he kisses my head. “I love you Kinsey.”

“I love you too Elias.”

After about 10 minutes, the doctor knocks on the door again. “The results of your tests are on this paper here.” He sets the paper on the table next to me. “I’ll give you two a chance to look at the results, and then I’ll be right back to do some blood work alright?” He doesn’t wait for a response, and quickly leaves the room again.

“You should read it first.” Elias says, picking up the paper handing it to me. I struggle taking the paper from him because my hands are shaking so much, but finally I unfold the paper.

A sigh of relief leaves my body as I fall against Elias’ chest, tears flowing down my cheeks. I can feel Elias deflate a little, but he quickly steadies himself wrapping me in his arms. He holds me close to him, and I feel safe in his arms. He’s home. He’s my family, we are a family.

“Can we get an apartment together?” My question has Elias pulling away, confusion evident on his face. We haven’t talked about moving in together yet, and maybe there was a reason for that. All I know is that after today, our relationship will never be the same.

Please let me know if you’d like to be tagged in the upcoming parts, or any of my future writings! Thank you for all of your support ❤️

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[harryhandstan]

I am so excited to finally be posting this for y’all! Thank you so much for all the hype and support it is very much appreciated. :) this is my piece for @goldenbluesuit​‘s Christmas Fic Challenge! my prompt was the song “Do You Want to Build a Snowman?” from the movie Frozen and I hope you all enjoy how I’ve incorporated it into my Dad!Harry series. You don’t necessarily have to read the other parts to understand this one, but I’ll link them below in case you want to re-visit them. 

I Want Your Belly ❄ Wonderful and Warm ❄ Washed Away in You 

Thank you to @tbslenthusiast​ and @heartbreakweatherharry​ for reading over this for me and giving me such amazing feedback! 

Word count: 2.3k

You still couldn’t believe the little wonder that had been created by you and Harry existed to be yours. Things hadn’t been perfect, far from it, but it was definitely a new and fun adventure you were both eager and terrified of.

The first challenge presented was finding a name perfect enough to fit your son. He was alive for 24 hours before you discovered one you and Harry were absolutely sure of. Even seeing it written on his birth certificate made your heart swell with pride.

It’s your mother who asks first, “Well, are you two gonna make a formal announcement to the press before us grandparents get to know the name of our grandson?”

“Think we’ve made them wait long enough, Harry.”

He smiles at you from across the hospital room where he sits in a chair, the baby resting peacefully on his chest. You’re propped up in the bed, wrapped in the soft pink robe given to you by him just a few days ago. Anne sits nearby, a proud grin on her face at the sight of her baby with his.

His eyes dart from the baby to you, “You wanna tell them or shall I?”

“You tell them. You’re the one that found it, been bragging about it all day too.”

“Alright then,” He gently lifts the baby, turning him to where the whole room can see him, your son’s face now scrunched up by the light from the window shining on him, “Ladies, meet your grandson, Sterling Edward Styles.”

“Oh, you didn’t,” Anne giggles, reaching over to pat your leg, “You’ll never hear the end of it, love, letting him name the baby after himself.”

“Hey! S’her idea to give him my middle name. I picked the first,” His features switch from temporarily offended back to beaming, “Wanna tell ‘em what it means, darlin’?”

“Sterling means ‘starling’, or as Harry likes to call him..”

“Our little star.” 

5 weeks later, your son certainly lives up to his name, charming everyone he meets. Sweet smiles and coos at strangers from his carrier when you’re at the grocery store or falling asleep in Auntie Gemma’s arms when she comes to visit. You were not surprised he already had his father’s charismatic ability to make everyone fall for him so quickly.

With Harry’s schedule as busy as it had been, it hadn’t been easy to adjust to life together as new parents. As much as he had tried to push things back or reschedule to have more time off with you, there was only so much that he was in control of and he was away from you and Sterling more than he liked.

So it’s no surprise when he comes home one evening and the space you share is mostly already decorated for the winter holidays. He smiles warmly to himself when he hears you singing along to the movie playing from the tv, peeks around the corner to see Sterling tucked away in his swing, his eyes open and bright. Your back is turned so you don’t hear Harry approaching, continuing to sing aloud as you work.

“We only have each other, it’s just you and me, what are we gonna dooooooo?” You spin around, expecting to only see Sterling watching you, yelping when you find Harry, giggling at the shock on your face.

He bends to look out the window, “Could be wrong, but I think you have to have snow to build a snowman, yeah?”

“You’re early! I wanted to surprise you,” You weave your way around boxes to greet him, “Left the tree for the 3 of us to do together though.”

“S’nice of you.” His hands remain in his pockets as you move closer, tired eyes looking down at you, lazy smile as you work your arms around his waist. He doesn’t make you wait long, freeing his hands from his pockets to wrap around you. 

He buries his face in your neck, “Missed you today.”

“We missed you too, H.”

He pulls back, turning to look down at Sterling, his arm still holding you close to his side, “He’s growing too fast. Can’t believe he’s already 5 weeks.”

“5 weeks and 3 days,” You remind him, “All the mommy blogs say we have an infant now.”

“S’that s’pose to mean? ‘Course he’s an infant.”

“Just means he’s growing out of his tiny baby stage.”

He directs his attention back to the movie playing, laughing as he teases you, “Least y’could’ve done is found a proper Christmas movie t’play while you put up decorations.”

You shrug, “It’s close enough to count. Plus he LOVES it. Think Elsa might be his favorite.”

He can’t resist anymore. As comfortable as his son may be swaying back and forth in his swing, he bends to scoop him up, one hand cradling behind his head and the other behind his back to easily support him. Sterling clearly doesn’t mind, a grin developing when he realizes who it is disturbing him.

“Don’t care what anyone says, bub. Y’ll always be daddy’s baby.”

You never doubted Harry’s capacity to love his son, but you definitely questioned his expertise and knowledge of the basics of caring for a child. He had become somewhat experienced now, tackling late night diaper changes and early morning feedings or anything else in between without complaint when he could. 

Though he had done great, you were never too far away that you couldn’t offer assistance when he needed it. So when he gets a rare day off and suggests you let him stay home with the baby while you run errands, you’re hesitant.  

“Do ya not trust me?”

“Of course I do. You know I do. I just don’t want you to get overwhelmed.”

“S’just for a few hours, right? You can write out a list of his schedule if it makes y’feel better.”

Sterling’s stretched across your lap, dozing off while you try to finish the last of your breakfast. Harry stands at the counter, drinking coffee out of a bright pink mug. You look between your almost sleeping son and then back up to Harry, chewing a bite of toast as you contemplate the idea.

He doesn’t take offense to your hesitation, quite the opposite actually. He adores the sight of you, Sterling’s face squished against your chest; one of his hands tucked under his chin, the other wrapped around your side, his little fist holding tight to your t-shirt. It’s the purest form of love in his eyes, to see the bond between mother and son grow and deepen with each day. Makes him reminiscent of his connection with his own mother, fills his heart with so much joy knowing he had chosen someone that would give his son the same sweet upbringing he had.

He makes his way back around the counter to you, a hand resting on the top of Sterling’s head as he bends down to kiss the top of yours. He moves his hand, repeating the act of affection to the top of the baby’s head. 

“Really proud of you, y’know that right, baby? Been so amazing watching you take care of yourself and our little boy, never doubted for a second you were meant for this, but it’s been more incredible than I could’ve ever imagined.”

“Proud of you too, H. Know you’ve had a lot of guilt about being gone, but Sterling and I love you so much. He already lights up at the sound of your voice when you FaceTime us from set, and I see the way he grins at you before he falls asleep when you’re here to tuck him in at night.” 

His eyes meet yours, sees the moment you make your decision to say yes, deep exhale of warm breath trapped between the two of you, “You have to promise to call if anything happens, if you need anything at all. Don’t care how small it is.” He nods firmly, further setting your mind at ease, “He should sleep most of the time I’m gone, but I’ll prepare another bottle just in case I can’t get back in time.”

You feel silly for feeling so protective, and you were thankful to have Harry as your partner on this journey. His patience and support had been more than generous, covering you and Sterling in more love and adoration than you’d ever known could exist from one person. He kisses you again, on your lips this time, a hand cupping one side of your face before gently lifting Sterling from your arms, shushing and bouncing him a bit when he starts to whimper from the sudden change in his comfortable position.

“S’okay, bubs. Daddy’s got you, g’nna have us a lil’ boys day while mumma’s gone.” 

You rush through whatever tasks you had scheduled that seemed so important that morning. Suddenly the groceries you needed and last minute presents you were dropping off at the post office to mail to out of town family didn’t matter, nothing did but getting back home to your boys.

It’s quiet when you shut the door behind you, almost too quiet. As much as you always prayed he would, Sterling never slept through his morning nap, so you’re surprised at the possibility of him still sleeping peacefully. Not that he was old enough to make too much noise yet, but still the silence worries you enough that you don’t even take the time to put away the groceries. You set the bags on the kitchen counter, making your way through the house to the living room first.

All your concern fades at the sight of Harry on the couch, Sterling snuggled in his arms with his back pressed against Harry’s front, his little body covered in a red and white striped onesie with a reindeer on the front, matching pair of green socks on his tiny feet. It’s such a comforting image, you once again question why you had any doubt at the thought of leaving the two of them alone. Harry hasn’t noticed your presence yet, or if he has he hasn’t said anything, and you’re content to keep it that way for a few more minutes to observe the vision set before you.

You notice the movie that’s playing, it’s the same one from a few nights ago that Harry teased you for. You cross your arms, quirking one eyebrow upwards before you repeat Harry’s words from that night out loud, “Boys day, huh? Could’ve at least found a proper Christmas movie to watch while I was gone.”

“I’ve decided you’re right, it does count. I can see why he loves it so much.” He looks up at you from where you lean over back of the couch now, a soft “hi” falling from his lips, tilting his head up to accept the kiss you offer. Sterling coos, and when you look down, he’s looking up at you too. 

“Mommy missed you too, baby boy.”

“Come sit with us, lovie, watch the rest of the movie.”

“Gimme a minute to put the groceries away and I will.”

“I’ll pause it and come help.”

“No, stay,” You run your hand through his hair, pushing the curls away from his face, “There’s not that much, I got it.”

You work swiftly to put everything away, taking a minute to change back into your pajamas before you rejoin them, curling yourself against Harry’s side under his free arm. Sterling’s dozing again, most likely falling into a milk coma from the bottle he had just finished, but it doesn’t stop the two of you from continuing to watch the same movie together. You offer to take Sterling or put him in his swing, but he just shakes his head no, clinging tighter to him and you.

“S’my favorite part, this song.”

“What? It’s the saddest one. Elsa and Anna’s parents die in this one.” 

He shrugs, careful not to shuffle Sterling and disturb his sleep, “Maybe, but s’catchy, gets stuck in my head more than the others.” 

He begins humming along to the intro music, nudging you softly to persuade you to start singing along with the character on the screen. You sit up, dramatically clearing your throat before you do. Harry knows more of the words than he cares to admit, but would rather hear the lyrics sung by you. He giggles at you as you even change your voice to mimic the silly parts.

“It gets a little lonely. All these empty rooms. Just watching the hours tick by…”

Harry provides the tick-tock part, clicking his tongue off-tune to the ones playing in the song. That’s enough to make you laugh out loud, temporarily forgetting the sleeping baby now resting on Harry’s chest. He shushes you playfully, his body shaking through his own laughter thankfully soothing Sterling enough that he doesn’t wake up.

You compose yourself as the song turns slow and mournful, tucking yourself back to Harry’s side again. His hand works around to cup your waist, squeezing lightly to pull you closer, the vibrations of him humming along again a comforting rumble against your body. His voice is quiet, barely above a whisper as he sings the last notes of the song.

“We only have each other. It's just you and me. What are we gonna doooooo?”

Your eyes scan the whole of the room. Your boys nestled together next to you, the tree in the corner of the room the 3 of you had decorated together a few days before, the pile of presents that had already accumulated underneath it. You spot your favorite ornament, a silver star with Sterling’s full name engraved on the front, “Baby’s First Christmas” etched on the back. Sterling’s first present from your family sent from home. Well, what used to be your home for the holidays. A smile spreads across your face at the simple happiness and realization that this is your home now. 

Harry, Sterling, and you; sun, moon, and star, spending your first holiday together.

 //

Thank you all for reading! As always likes/rbs/and comments are more than welcome. Tell me what you think here!

tag list: @taintedwonder​, @cock-a-doodely-doo

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[shadowhuntering]

Matthew & Alastair comparison

I’ve been re-reading Chain of Gold in prep for Chain of Iron and I've noticed that Matthew and Alastair are a foil of each other.

I’ve also been re-reading Cast Long Shadows for investigative purposes and it furthers my realization.

Matthew and Alastair have been through similar issues, but are the opposite (if that makes sense) in some ways. eg. Alastair had to pick up after Elias who is a drunk; Matthew is also a drunk. How they responded to these issues tells you a lot about their nature.

This is my observations, purely for analytical purposes so if I sound particularly harsh towards a character, I do not mean to be.

1. Personalities are the opposite to the other.

Matthew’s personality is literally meant to "blind people" because he's sunny, outgoing and is meant to be the life of the party (or his mask).

Alastair on the other hand is literally "dark" he is broody, not very forth coming and can be very prickly

Ironically though, both have the façade of being conceited when they are the opposite. Though you could argue that Matthew’s alcoholism is a result of being selfish. However, he has little regard for himself which is the danger.

Definition of selfish: Concerned chiefly or excessively with oneself, and having little regard for others.

2. They share a similar notion of love not being real, or won't last. 

Alastair just having a very pessimistic view in general, but Matthew says it about himself. He has full faith that other people will have happiness, where he doesn’t see it happening for himself.

3. Alastair is unapologetically himself, whereas with Matthew he hasn’t been himself for a while, and even back before the events of Cast Long Shadows he was trying to fulfill what people needed at the time.

Matthew cares too much about the people around him to think about himself, but also tries not to care as he fulfills the bad reputation people have of him. He has a mask/façade(s) to help liven or distract, yet he also openly degrades himself. He keeps people at arms length so that they will not be disappointed by him, but also forms close bonds with people. He so badly wants someone to love him, but he doesn't want to help himself or be vulnerable to other people. He’s a walking contradiction.

Alastair does regret the things he did, but he doesn't think less of himself because of them. He did all those things to protect himself from hurt. Alastair also doesn’t care for his attitude. It’s not his problem if people don’t like it basically 😂 He clearly has people he cares about like Sona and Cordelia and prioritises them also. He is also actively trying to right his wrongs on not dwell on his past. He wants to move on with his life.

4. Matthew doesn't want to help himself, Alastair does want to help himself and become a better person.

Matthew openly degrades himself yet keeps his own secrets and thoughts of himself. He self-destructs as he feels he deserves it, even when people reach out and try to care for his well-being and that of others they also love (eg. Lucie’s confrontation). He doesn't see that he is hurting the people around him and also himself because of his attitude towards his own life really. He doesn’t have much of a quality for life. He is clearly depressed. He fails to let anyone in because he doesn’t want to help himself and also thinks too much about what people think of him when honestly the perception they have of him now is probably much lower now because 1. how he has chosen to deal with his mistake 2. how he has kept it to himself therefore making it look like the people who care about him would cast him out.

Alastair knows what he did wrong and is trying to improve himself for the betterment of himself. It was evident that at the time of Cordelia finding out about Charles, he wanted to break free, but once he got over being mad at Cordelia for snooping (rightfully so tbh) he understood that she loves him and would give him the support he needed; he had the inspiration from her to commit to moving forward and make amends for himself. Sure, he kept people at arms length in order to protect himself but inherently he does make himself vulnerable for other people. He still let in Charles, made himself vulnerable to love. Then with Thomas... he let Thomas see his guard down in Paris (and before that Thomas just saw right through him) and he ended up allowing Cordelia in, taking heed of her advice and love. He knew that Charles was hurting him and other people, so he stood up to him. He is much more open and vulnerable which is ironic really.

To me, the progression Alastair has already made makes me believe that the same will come for Matthew. However, the bottom line here is that Matthew self-destructs and doesn’t want to help himself whereas Alastair wants to be a better person and look after himself. Alastair has self-love which is what Matthew severely lacks.

5. Both had to grow up fast due to responsibilities of looking after their father...

Matthew arguably has "Mommy issues". This is not me making excuses for Matthew, or even criticizing Charlotte in any way, this is just my interpretation of Cast Long Shadows...

Matthew seems to have low self-esteem and love for himself due to abandonment issues it seems. He probably felt abandoned as a child by Charlotte. It's not that he was unsupportive of her or holds anything against her, but when you look at it objectively, his upbringing shaped his reaction to Alastair and to himself. She literally left him crying at 6 years old and told him to "look after your father" as she had to go off with Charles. Cast Long Shadows is a huge emphasis of how the feeling of abandonment from Charlotte, leading to how he instantly believed that Charlotte had an affair with Gideon and took drastic action. This I feel is because he never felt comfortable to openly discuss to her about himself really. He also didn't trust her...

I do not wish to insult Charlotte as her job is serious and I'm so proud of her, but unfortunately, due to it, it made an impact on who Matthew is now. He didn't trust, nor feel comfortable enough to sit down and talk to Charlotte because he never really got to know her properly or wanted to burden her. It probably also felt like she had favoritism over Charles, and Matthew didn't want to step on her toes. She also never noticed the little things he did like make her favourite scones and he just went feeling unloved or unappreciated (though he should have said something?). She would ask of him to be sensible, didn't really engage much in his humor which probably contributed to how he viewed himself as well as he already was so self-conscious and was vying for her attention. No offense to Henry but his immersion into his science probably left Matthew feeling abandoned as well as he was the one caring for him, then Christopher is the one who understands and engages. Matthew was his carer, effectively, making sure he ate, drank, slept and wheeled him about. He did love his father though, so he didn’t mind. Though Henry does praise him when he breaks the news about them expecting which just made Matthew feel more guilty of his accidental poisoning.

It’s like Matthew wants all of the attention, but he never voices what he wants aloud. This results with no one paying him much heed. In Cast Long Shadows there is also a comparison to James and Lucie’s relationship with Tessa and Will. James and Lucie have communication with their parents, along with known support and trust. Matthew does not seem to have this as he seems too afraid to voice it, not because he is scared of Charlotte and Henry, but because he is too considerate of them. I also find it Ironic that the next story in GotSM is Every Exquisite Thing where there is a huge emphasis of Anna and Cecily’s relationship with each other. Anna being too scared that Cecily would be critical and not understand her, but when Cecily comes to Anna at her worst, she completely understood Anna and supported her, making her feel better. To me this is another stark contrast to Matthew where his parents are too busy to build a good relationship with him, and when there is a heart to heart (Henry talking with Matthew) it is too late and doesn’t ease his mind. Anna also points out how no one would approach Matthew because “he did not do well under confinement”- it makes sense, he doesn’t like confrontation. 

(I can go into further detail about Cast Long Shadows with Matthew’s upbringing being detrimental to his view of himself)

Alastair however has "Daddy issues". Alastair has a similar case of looking after his father, but he came to resent his father because he never got himself better or was so drunk to even remember or acknowledge Alastair and his help or I suppose confront his problem. Alastair knows what it can do and simply does not want to re-live it, and as Cordelia is now friends with Matthew, he doesn't want Cordelia being hurt by Matthew either or having to pick up after him as he did for Elias. That is also where they butt heads. It is too coincidental that Matthew is also drinking to forget, and is not wanting to make himself be better and deal with it. Alastair is trying to protect Cordelia, but he is also allowing her to make decisions for herself.

In ChoG Alastair says he was 10 when he learnt to fill the brandy bottles with water to mask the levels that had been drunk. He was probably picking up his father and "looking after him" well before that. Alastair tried to protect Cordelia from this because he was being more considerate for her sake. He wanted her to have a childhood he was robbed of. He is also being a foil here of Charles. Charles was so self-involved that he never decided to even think about his younger brother, Matthew. Alastair was compassionate; Charles was not. Alastair is a good older brother; Charles was not and was even accusatory that Matthew being parabatai with James and being in London is what caused Charlotte to be ill... he just has so much resentment...

I also believe that Alastair wanted the burden off of his mother, and I'm wondering if he knows more about Sona and her feelings towards Elias being sour and terrified (This is I feel what is indicated in the teaser of when Elias appears where Sona seems to go pale) despite rushing to him and hugging him etc.

“Sona went white and laid a hand against the wall to steady herself. "Elias?"” 

Alastair was bitter and twisted and he never wanted people to know because he knew it was a weak spot for him. It is what sparked him telling Matthew the rumor in the first place. 

“ "I wish I could say the same for you," said Matthew. "Has no kind soul thought to inform you that your hairstyle is, to use the gentlest words available to me, ill-advised? A friend? Your papa? Does nobody care enough to prevent you from making a spectacle of yourself? Or are you simply too busy perpetrating acts of evil upon the innocent to bother about your unfortunate appearance?" “

...

“Instead Alastair said: "Who are you to play the moralist, talking about tricks and papas, considering the circumstances of your birth?" “

He ultimately had inherited his father's shame which was wrong. It's what Cordelia has told him as well. Alastair shouldn't have to think of the mess of Elias; it is his shame to deal with, not Alastair’s.

Though arguably, as a result of Alastair giving Cordelia an innocent childhood, it opened the doors for Cordelia to want to reach out for him, due to her optimism and love, and as he loves his sister dearly, he takes what she has to say to heart. They will now face things together as a support network and hopefully they also have communication with their mother. Although their family may be "broken" they arguably have more communication and togetherness than Matthew does with his family.

(Sorry, that bit was long)

6. Result of their nature after childhood being robbed

Matthew seems to act more of a "child" anyways, being more “frivolous”. He is being reckless, he is a little petty as well. Whereas Alastair decided to grow up too fast and is more mature and relatively grounded. It did harden him to begin with, but he doesn’t want to completely isolate himself. He’s just simply more rational. This I feel is in their nature though, not nurture. 

7. Matthew is slowly driving everyone away, this is kind of what Alastair tried to achieve

Alastair at the Academy decided that he would be the bully in order not to be the one being ridiculed, thinking that he would be better off and retain a hard skin, but all it did was make him regret and never allowed him to create good bonds with people. Then when he came back from the Academy, he distanced himself from Cordelia. I interpreted this as him dealing with his guilt and regret and tried to not get Cordelia too close to him because of it, but Cordelia cared about him too much. Though it could’ve just been that he got too used to having a hard skin, not letting anyone close. Throughout ChoG he builds his bond with Cordelia, and we also see James coming around to Alastair. Thomas as always was curious and saw his better side and Christopher was seemed ready to give him a second chance. Though due to Matthew’s spew at the end, there is distance between him and Thomas and others (save Jordelia).

Matthew is driving everyone away, simply because he is being so reckless. He had originally established good relationships with people. Then, when Lucie confronts him he literally avoids it, no matter how realistic she was being and how much he cared for her, but that was it; he cared too much for her to tell her. We see that even James will snap at him in COI

Teaser #41: "There is no point to it," said Matthew. "If you will never see reason or good sense—"

"Because you're a bastion of reason and good sense?" James snapped. He knew he had a temper, just like his father; his anger spilled past everything else, tasting of copper and fury. "Matthew, you are drunk. For all I know, you mean nothing you are saying."

"I mean all of it," Matthew protested. "In vino veritas—"

"Don't you quote Latin at me," said James. "Even if you were sober, you've never taken love seriously enough to lecture me. Your passions have been a series of dalliances and ill-conceived attachments. Look at me and tell me there is something you love more than that bottle in your hand."

Matthew also decides to move out and get his own place to force independence and probably drive even more of a wedge between himself and Charlotte. We also knows he has an argument with Charlotte; his apartment and car is undoubtedly a result of that, escaping the conflict and confrontation. 

Anna had wanted to talk to him (Every Exquisite Thing), Magnus also wanted to help him. Lucie has always wanted to help for the sake of James and James has always known something was off. They just know that he wouldn’t say anything, and I think most were in the hopes that he would eventually say something. We know that Cordelia is most likely the one he tells thankfully! It is ironic that it is Cordelia for both Alastair and Matthew as well. So it already looks like Chain of Iron will provide the break and repair of relationships for Matthew, similar to Alastair’s progression of self-love.

8. Matthew is very open about his sexuality. Alastair does try and keep it hidden, however it’s more complicated. This is a reflection of their concern of judgement.

Although Matthew keeps things to himself, he admittedly is not afraid of what people think of him as his expectations of himself are so low. However, he is also ruled by the expectations of others, all through his life people had low expectations of him (again, another thing that influenced his actions in general) and he feels to fulfill that obscure one in spite?? The reputation the he has, has always been obscured because in everyone's eyes it will and always has been Charles who will inherit and uphold the good reputation as Consul as they don’t see Matthew as smart or responsible. However, the latter there he doesn’t help prove them wrong...

Alastair keeps his sexuality secret, that is until Cordelia finds out and he eventually warms up to her. Plus he was dependent of Charles as well, but committed himself that he wouldn’t be the side-dish. He wants to love himself for himself, not be hidden as a secret.

There is also a "reputation" element of the family that he still wants to uphold. He is learning though that he has to put himself first and should make amends for his reputation and not have to be burdened by others. Though I would argue that Cordelia is the one who is more concerned about it, but now she knows the truth she is wavering. It’s more complex.

To conclude: 

I feel like their stories will either reflect the other, or will be intertwined somehow. As Alastair has dealt with a drunk and looks down upon alcoholism in general because of his experience makes me believe that Matthew might need Alastair's perspective to grow up. Once he understands Alastair I feel it may pave the way for forgiving and loving himself. 

Alastair was the "spark" of making him spiral, but he was well on his way of questioning his family's loyalty and love of him before that (hence why we were given so much background) and it played into his weakness. Matthew I think wants to take it out on Alastair (he says he didn't blame Alastair or the Faerie. Alastair is just easy to take his frustration out on) as he is not prepared to come to terms with himself or even his family for that matter for his grievance. He loves his family very much and that’s why he feels so guilty, but it's wrong for him to believe so easily and hide his guilt away and that has to be due to his upbringing...

tldr; Alastair and Matthew have stark comparisons to each other that it’s probable that they are detrimental to each other’s character arcs.

@sparkofsummer

#tsc #matthew fairchild #alastair carstairs #coi #tlh #chog #cog2 #chain of iron #chain of gold #the last hours #shadowhunters #the shadowhunter chronicles

[echo-three-one]

Chapter 32

THE ROAD SO FAR

Mr. and Mrs. MacTavish

Francine "France" Winters

MacTavish Residence, Glasgow Scotland

3:46 AM

Francine squinted her eyes as she checked her phone, the bright light illuminated her whole visage. No new messages. John promised her he'd text her as soon as the mission was over. According to their briefing, the recon mission should've ended about four hours ago.

She shifted her position and turned to Maxine who looked sound asleep. A soft smile escaped her lips once she realized that Maxine was safe within her reach.

She forced her eyes to close again but couldn't quite get the sleep she needed. She wondered if John ever got tired running in her mind. After failing her last attempt to get some sleep, she slowly got up and made her way to the kitchen for some milk.

Much to her surprise, the kitchen lights were open and Samantha sat on the dining table, her chin rested on her arms as she stared on her phone.

"Can't sleep?" France asked and it shocked Samantha a little.

"Yeah. He's supposed to text me three hours ago. Now I can't help but worry." Samantha groaned in frustration.

"John promised that too…" she slowly placed her phone on the table and it beeped. The womens eyes widened as France excitedly unlocked her phone.

Her smile almost reached the heavens but soon after reading the notification, she suddenly went back to her frown.

"What was it?" Samantha asked, raising her head and looked at Francine.

"A software update notification." Francine sighed and went to grab a glass of milk.

"Say, France… has it ever crossed your mind that John would be the one you'll end up marrying?" Samantha asked. Francine's cheeks burned immediately at the idea as she envisioned herself living in a house with three children with mohawks running around. She wasn't ready for all of it but she's blushing at the sheer idea of it as if she liked it.

"Umm… uh.. I'm not sure. Sam." her tone was really suspicious, as if hiding something and making up blatant lies. She just wished Samantha couldn't see through her.

"Sorry for that kind of question. It's just that… I think that Alex is the one for me… that's why I'm this worried about him. I couldn't sleep knowing he's not beside me…" Samantha explained while pondering her situation. If that was the case for her, then France's insomnia could also mean that she's…

"I guess it's normal to feel that way…" France defended, downing a half full glass of milk.

"You've been with him for quite some time and you both admittedly loved each other, that's why you showed concern toward him." She continued.

"So, that goes to you too? Right?" Samantha asked. France once again got cornered by her own train of thought.

"Look. Yes. I'm concerned about John too… he's…" she smiled.

"He's something else… I'm far too ready to reopen myself to a relationship and he actually told me he was willing to wait and be a friend in need." she continued, now her heart was beating slowly but fluttering at the idea of her thoughts. John was willing to wait. That meant that she could have all the time at her disposal until she was ready to love again. But such time needed was already up, as she was already denying the inevitable feeling of love she was projecting toward the Scotsman.

"Sounds like you're already ready." Samantha teased.

"No I'm not!" France immediately dismissed her, grabbed her phone and went back to bed.

"As a matter of fact, I'll sleep right now!" She said as Samantha just laughed and waved goodnight.

France slowly paced in front of John's room. She felt as if there was a huge magnet pulling her towards it and the longer her phone doesn't ring, the more convinced she was to get in. Succumbing to temptation, she pushed the doors open and sneaked her way in.

His room was always her favorite place in the house. It showcased a lot of his personality that no one could ever see in him. Landscape drawings and sketches filled the room. Football jerseys with autographs were framed on the walls along with photos with his favorite athletes.

At first glance, everyone would say that John MacTavish had it all, but when you're staring at his eyes while having a heart to heart talk, you would know that that isn't all true. He didn't have it all.

France saw his black journal by the bed. It was strange that he didn't bring it for his mission. Last time you asked him what's inside, he just chuckled and said "mission details", showing a sketch of Price labeled 'caterpillar moustache'.

France was then again tempted to open the page where he left off, showing a beautifully sketched face of her, occupying the whole page.

"Tough on the outside, soft in the inside. Just like me." was written on the corner of the page.

"I knew that you saw through me the moment we met…" She whispered as she closed the journal and yawned, crashing on his huge bed they both shared days ago when she needed someone to talk to. Covering herself with the thick covers, she inhaled the signature MacTavish scent which still lingered on his bed and it was actually effective enough to lull her to sleep. It's as if he was there beside her.

France woke up as soon as it came to her senses that Maxine would be looking for her. Throwing the covers away, she immediately rushed back to her room. Pulling the door open and sneaking her way back.

The silent clattering of the plates and casual conversations filled the kitchen. Jack was talking about some of his experiences while Samantha and Maxine were giggling. Much to her curiosity regarding the two unknown voices, both male and female, she slowly descended the staircase and peeked.

Aside from Jack, Samantha and Maxine, there was a man and a woman, possibly married, who sat together by the table. She actually felt nervous once her sight landed on the man. If he was younger, his resemblance with John would be almost accurate. And judging by that look, Francine leaned to the idea that this was John's father.

John's father had the physical qualities of a Scotsman but the appeal of a western businessman. His accent was almost not Scottish.

"Ahh. I miss my home so much. Do you mind if I let loose a little?" Mr. MacTavish asked and his wife, judging by the body language of holding on his hands, chuckled at his idea.

"Don't worry. It's your home. You should feel comfortable." Jack replied with a smile.

With a deep sigh, Mr. MacTavish actually let loose and exhaled a very deep ramble in s heavy Scottish accent. His wife replied with the same energy and everyone cackled. France was amazed at how easygoing his parents were and it told a lot about John's upbringing.

"Ooh! Looks like our other guest woke up!" Mrs. MacTavish mused upon making eye contact with France.

"So Maxine, this is your sister?" Mr. MacTavish.

"Yes, Mr. Jonathan. It's Francine." Maxine answered and France waved and smiled at the MacTavishes. Her whole body felt awkwardly nervous. She felt like this was the 'Meet the Parents' part, except they weren't really a thing… yet.

"Nice to finally meet you, Sir Jonathan and Ma'am…" France shook his hand and paused at Mrs. MacTavish.

"It's Julianne." She smiled and shook her hand. For a moment, Francine actually felt her heartwarming touch as she slowly eased the nervousness away.

"Don't be scared of us dear. We don't bite." She smiled and Francine smiled back. When John told her about how serene he felt around his mother, he wasn't joking. Her aura was powerful.

"Honey, looks like there are a lot more women in the force nowadays. Have you ever wondered if our boy John has liked any of them?" he asked playfully while France was trying her hardest not to choke on her orange juice. It looks like Max and Samantha were just giggling on their own.

"Well dear, why don't we leave it up to John to introduce us to her." She chuckled and held her husband's hand.

"Where is he anyway?" Jonathan looked back by the door.

"He's still on a mission." France answered and everyone else looked at her.

"What I mean is, they are still on their way home." She corrected, stuttering as she replied.

"Well, it's such a shame we had to leave now. Duty calls!" Jonathan stood up and everyone followed them to the front door, waving their goodbyes. France shyly followed behind them and joined the group as they sent their goodbyes to John's parents.

As soon as the car left their sights, everyone else eased and released the pressure they felt.

"Woooah. Soap has some nice parents. I thought they'll get mad at us for crashing in!" Maxine said, sitting beside France.

"Well, Soap just proved to us that not all businessmen are evil, despite what television suggests." Jack added and yawned. It was still early and he already planned on sleeping.

Samantha sat there and stared at her phone. France checked hers too and called her attention.

"I didn't get any texts from him. But I assure you, they'll be here soon."

"So, tell me how worried you were when I didn't text." John smugly asked France while he emerged from the showers, a clean white towel was the only thing wrapping his body.

France just sat by the bed, her whole body facing opposite John. Her brows still furrowed at the idea that he wasn't able to text her that they finished the mission without harm.

Their arrival earlier was not quite the arrival she expected. Her heart was supposed to flutter at the sight of John, but instead sadness filled the whole house. Alexandra Ryder was gone, and it would be too rude to reach for his embrace at the time of mourning.

"I wasn't worried one bit." She spat and crossed her arms. He could hear John laughing a little and she wanted to look at him, but his stubbornness needed to be fixed, that is if she could.

"Really? Then how come I heard from Samantha that you were up at three-" France quickly turned to her back in an attempt to stop his trail of thought, but she was surprised that John's face was already close to hers as he was crawling towards her while he talked.

France's world paused for a little as her eyes met his, gaze locked on his icy blue stare as her heart started to beat differently and her ears started to heat up, and lips slowly formed a smile.

Her eyes trailed down to his lips, where it also happened to curve differently. He was smiling and it never occurred to her that John had smiled like that before. Her lips involuntarily pouted as she felt John's face inch closer to hers, as she slowly closed her eyes and let the Scotsman take over her lips.

The first kiss was quick, their lips just met each other for a short while and they both backed up, eyes locked on to each other, both sparkling and wanting for more.

"Fine." France whispered and reached for his cheek.

"I can't stop worrying about you, dumbass." she added and John let out a soft chuckle, leaning in for another kiss, but this time it was more than they both wanted. This time it felt like they were released from all the things constraining them. France actually gave in to him for the second time, and she was glad that she did this, because John sure was a very good kisser.

Next Chapter : The Broken Ship

Notification Squad my Beloved

@beemybee @samatedeansbroccoli @enderio @smokeywhalee @whimsywispsblog @ricinbach

#horrayfic #john soap mactavish #alex echo 3 1 #codmw #john price #gary roach sanderson #simon ghost riley #whateverittakes

[mxndoscyarika]

Honeydew (Marcus Pike/Moreno x OC) | Chapter 4

Summary: Erin He moves to DC after working for the FBI in Texas and runs into a hero in disguise; Marcus Moreno. Something about him is familiar, too familiar, yet different in a way that she can’t quite place. Although confused, she can’t deny her feelings for him; perhaps, after years of regret, she finally found the one.

Warnings: snow/icy roads, food/drink, smut/masturbation (after last line break), two (2) swear words

Ao3

Honeydew masterlist

Like my writing? Here’s my masterlist.

Author’s Note: I did it! I managed to write while also getting flooded with homework! I’m not completely sure when I’ll be able to get the next chapter out, but I’m super excited for you all to see what happens this chapter. Enjoy!

The lights flickered in the office, making Erin pause her work. Looking out the window, she was met with snow falling from the sky, flakes small enough that even the building next door wasn’t much more than a faint silhouette. It wasn’t anything atypical for that time of year, but she was not looking forward to driving through the snow. There was always someone who started sliding or ended up blocking a road.

She picked up her phone tiredly when it started ringing, not even looking at the contact. “This is Agent He.”

A warm voice came through the speaker. “Hi, honey.”

Hearing Marcus’s voice, even through a phone, was enough to get her to sit a little taller. “Hi, Marcus. What do you need?”

He let out a soft sigh. “Sorry, I know you’re probably busy, but Missy gets out of school soon and I was wondering if you could give her a drive home?” There was the sound of a crash nearby, followed by the scuffing of shoes against pavement. “I’m a bit busy right now and the school just called to say they’re closing early.”

Erin glanced through her schedule for the rest of the day. No meetings, just paperwork and some emails. Closing it with a click, she answered, “Yeah. Yeah, I can go pick her up. I’m just about done for the day and was thinking of heading out anyways.”

Marcus let out a sigh of relief. “You’re the best, Erin. I’ll text you the address and let Missy know you’re coming.”

“No problem,” she replied, tucking her phone between her shoulder and ear so she could pack up. “Stay safe out there, Marcus.”

He chuckled softly. “Of course, honeydew. I’ll talk to you later, alright?”

The call ended before she could respond. Shrugging to herself, she tucked her phone away and kept packing.

Due to the slower workday, people had time to kill. Erin tried to ignore the stares of her coworkers as she strode out of the office with her bag and a stack of folders. Some stopped her along the way to ask questions, and she sighed as their single question turned into what constituted a half-hour meeting that they could have scheduled. As much as she hated to seem dismissive, she had to cut them off and ask them to send an email with their concerns.

“Wait, where are you going?”

Glancing back over her shoulder, she answered, “Had something important come up, I’m heading out for the day.”

---

“Are you my dad’s special friend?”

Erin’s eyes widened. Words were lost on her as she tried to formulate an answer. They were certainly friends, and more than friends, but how far beyond that? “W-what do you mean by ‘special’, Missy?”

The young girl shrugged, playing with the zipper of her jacket. “Dad talks about you a lot. Well, he talks to you a lot. He told me that you’re the one he calls at night.”

She gripped the steering wheel until her knuckles turned pale. He talked about her with Missy? “Oh. Yeah, that’s me, then.” Turning on the blinker to make a left, she said, “Your dad told me he’ll finish work as soon as he can, so we’ll head to my place, ok?”

In just a few minutes, she pulled into the garage of her apartment, trailing in slush and clumps of snow. Her tires had left compacted snow on the driveway, which meant the snow was planning to stick around for a while. Hopefully someone would add salt by the morning. Having a four-wheel-drive was great, but she couldn’t alter physics.

“Get warmed up by the fireplace and I’ll text your dad, ok?” She said, unlocking the apartment door and holding it open for Missy to enter. The little girl bounded in, taking off her shoes by the door so she wouldn’t leave tracks on the floor. “Would you like something to drink?”

“Do you have hot cocoa?” Missy asked, setting down her backpack by the dining table. She looked up at Erin curiously, her brown eyes sparkling.

Erin placed her folders on the table and nodded. “Yes I do, sweetie. Do you want to help? I have marshmallows somewhere….”

“Yes!!!” Missy cheered. She followed Erin to the spacious kitchen, her eyes growing wide when she saw the array of pots by the sink. “Are these all real plants?”

The greenery was one of Erin’s favorite parts about the apartment; a higher position at the FBI meant a bigger paycheck, and a bigger paycheck and relocation meant a bigger apartment. It still wasn’t large enough for a party of more than two or three people, but it did have more counter space and windows. Adorned with plants ranging from orchids to airplants to fiddle-leaf fig bushes, her living space was slowly turning into a nursery. Some would’ve said she had too many plants, but she wanted her home to be just a little more than plain walls and pretty lights.

“They are,” she answered, smiling. “I need to water them today, so I left them out on the counter this morning. Do you and your dad have plants at home?” Missy shook her head, marveling at the circular leaves of the pilea plant. Touching a leaf gently, she answered, “Dad always forgets to water them, so we only have fake ones.”

A chuckle left Erin’s lips as she placed the mug of milk into the microwave. “Remind me to never buy him plants as a present, then.”

When the milk was steaming, she took the mug out of the microwave and added a large scoop of powdery mixture. The liquid quickly turned to a silky dark brown, which was quickly topped off with a handful of marshmallows per Missy’s request.

While Missy started on her homework–who gave out homework on a snow day?–Erin took out a few ingredients to make cookies. Thankfully, she still had some flour and dark chocolate in the cabinet. If there was anything that could’ve warmed up the chilly apartment, it was the heat of the oven and the scent of freshly baked cookies.

Surprisingly, Missy was pretty well-behaved. In her experience, children around Missy’s age tended to be riddled with questions, almost overly excited. But Missy, on the other hand, seemed to fare well on her own. Perhaps it was a testament to her upbringing, or maybe she was just independent like her father. Either way, Erin appreciated the politeness and relaxation.

Once the cookies were baked, Erin took a seat across from  Missy and started sorting through the reports. Some had urgent deadlines, but others could wait. And then there was the rat’s nest that was her inbox.

It was at that point when Missy finished her homework and started growing bored. She couldn’t blame her; her apartment could be cozy, but it definitely wasn’t arranged for a child.

“Do you want to do something together?” Erin asked, smiling a little. Setting down the file she was reading she mused, “If you want, we could find a movie. Or not, whatever you want. Just tell me.”

Missy’s request wasn’t surprising–she wanted to watch TV. So that’s what they did. They snuggled up on the sofa with a blanket tossed over their legs. Erin handed her the remote so she could pick a show or movie.

Before long, the warmth of the fireplace along with the soft haze of noise from the TV had lulled Missy to sleep, the head of brown waves resting against her arm. At first, Erin tensed. But once she realized it was just Missy, she forced herself to relax.

Smiling softly, she turned down the volume of the TV and slid her arm out from underneath her, catching Missy when she started falling over. She wondered if that was what parenting was; if it was just a series of questions and answers until the little one fell asleep.

But as she tried to get up, she found Missy’s hands scrunched in her shirt, keeping her in place. Not even a tug on her shirt could detach her.

Sighing, she sat back down and looked down at the little girl. The half-sitting position couldn’t be good for her back, and so far she hadn’t had any success in getting free. So, she did what anyone would do. Well, what she thought Marcus would do.

She leaned over and lifted Missy with ease, holding her close so they could both lie down.

Missy quickly settled herself into a more comfortable position, her cheek resting against Erin’s shoulder. The hands that once clung to her shirt came up to wrap around her neck, keeping her secured to Erin.

The FBI agent tried to ignore the warmth in her chest as Missy’s fingers wrapped around the collar of her shirt. Until then, she hadn’t realized how...small she was. How precious and warm and completely adorable. Sure, there was the cuteness that came with youth, but for a moment she let herself bask in the embrace of Missy Moreno.

As her eyelids grew heavy, Erin pulled the blanket up and let herself drift off.

She wasn’t sure how much time had passed before Marcus knocked on her door. The sharp rapping on wood brought her out of her slumber. When she glanced at her watch, it was late into the evening.

Rather than making him wait an extra minute so she could wake Missy up, Erin stood from the couch and answered the door with the little girl on her hip.

Marcus looked tired, his beard a bit longer than usual and his hair mussed. But nevertheless, those beautiful brown eyes of his lit up at the sight of Erin and his daughter. Speaking softly, he said, “It looks like you two got along, huh?”

“I guess we did,” she replied, smiling. She stepped aside. “Why don’t you come in? Stay for dinner, Marcus.”

“I really shouldn’t,” he said bashfully, laughing softly. Seeing her with his kid all cuddled up sparked something in him that he hadn’t felt in a long time. And it terrified him.

He always wanted kids; it was no secret. And along with kids, he dreamt of getting married, and coming home to a family. The world let him have that for fewer than five years. It had been a long time since he’d come home to see Missy so content and at peace with life.

“You had a long day, sweetie,” she insisted, reaching for his wrist and pulling him in. “Just let me set her down and I can get started.”

Before he could offer to take Missy, she was already laying the girl back onto the couch. As he watched her, he remembered the way his wife used to cradle their baby, tucking her into blankets and placing little kisses on her forehead.

His heartstrings tugged painfully as Erin covered Missy with the blanket and smoothed down the hairs on the crown of her head fondly. Although he didn’t regret a moment of his previous marriage, part of him still wished he’d taken the plunge instead of redirecting his feelings towards Lisbon. Maybe if he did, they’d be in a completely different place in life.

Erin came up to him, tying back her hair. “I can make us some fried rice, how does that sound?”

“Perfect,” he replied, smiling. “Can I help you prep anything, honey?” There it was again. Fighting the rush of heat at the nickname, she walked with him to the kitchen and said, “Yes, I’d love some help.”

She and Marcus fell into a rhythm, music playing softly from the bluetooth speaker on her counter. While the rice cooker was puffing out steam (she didn’t have enough leftover rice), they both worked on preparing the other ingredients: spam, onions, egg, and garlic. Some things never changed.

“You’re very lucky,” she commented, leaning forward on the counter to watch him dice the onion. His movements were smooth and confident, fingers curled just slightly. “Missy’s a great kid.”

“She didn’t give you any trouble?” he asked, brows shooting up. When she shook her head, he chuckled softly. “You must have magic powers, then. She can be a little shit if she wants to be.”

Erin scoffed. “She’s the most well-behaved child I’ve ever met. You did a good job with her, Marcus.”

“I did my best,” he responded, cheeks warm. “I don’t think I could’ve survived without my mom helping out, though.” She smirked. “Well isn’t that what grandparents are for? Babysitting so that the parents can have some fun?”

The corner of his lip curved up. He finished cutting the onions and washed his hands. Stepping closer, he asked lowly, “What kind of fun do you think they have?”

Chills ran down her spine as he touched her arm, his hands large and warm. Her eyes flickered down to his lips. “I don’t know, why don’t you tell me?”

“Do you want me to show you, honey?”

Mere centimeters separated them when a high pitched voice exclaimed from the sofa, “Daddy!”

Erin pulled away quickly, her cheeks turning pink as Missy ran over to give Marcus a hug. They were almost caught. She was almost caught kissing Missy’s dad. That would’ve been an interesting situation to explain.

But if the nerves were real, why was her heart beating with excitement? Not to mention, why did she feel so warm when he touched her? They weren’t together. No, they were friends. More than friends, but friends.

Dinner was cooked and demolished in no time, the Morenos praising her for something as simple as rice with canned meat.

“This is really good, honey,” he moaned, spooning more into his bowl. Licking his lips, he asked, “Could you teach me how to make this sometime?”

She tried not to focus on the way his lips shined from the oil and his tongue. “I could, but why do that when you and Missy could come visit more often?”

“I can’t ask that of you, honey-” “You’re not asking, I’m offering,” Erin interrupted, smiling triumphantly at Missy’s agreement. “Besides, Missy likes the plants. She says they’re nice.” “Like abuelita’s house!” Marcus chuckled. “Like abuelita’s house.” Meeting Erin’s eyes, he said, “I’d like that. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

---

“Dad, Erin’s really cool.”

He smiled fondly, pulling out of the visitor’s parking spot. “Yeah, she is, isn’t she?”

A pause. Then, “Are you going to ask her out?”

Normally, he would be more caught off guard. But after a long day of work and an amazing dinner with his girls, he couldn’t have been happier. “I already did, kiddo.”

Another pause. He knew Missy was going to grow up to be a smart girl; he just knew it. And with Erin in the picture, he had even less reason to doubt it. “Do you like-like her? My friends say that their parents go on dates sometimes.”

Marcus smiled to himself. “Yeah, yeah I do.”

Being in the kitchen with her again felt like coming home. To her, it might’ve felt like a stranger seeing her for the first time, but everything fell together perfectly.

“Well, I think she like-likes you, too.”

---

Erin sat on the edge of her bed, wrapped in a fluffy towel after her shower. She couldn’t stop thinking about the way Marcus’s voice had dropped when he asked her that question, and the way his touch felt electric against her even through the clothes.

The heat in her belly grew more unbearable the more she thought of him. Seeing him in the kitchen, waltzing around her as if it was second nature, only made her want him more. His fingers were beautiful and thick, gentle yet confident. His smile was sweet yet knowing. He was everything she ever wanted, but different from what she used to dream about.

She lifted her gaze to the full mirror leaning against the wall.

The towel dropped to the carpet once she stood in front of it, leaving her bare to the warm air of her apartment. She bit her lip as her fingers rubbed along the silver shaft of the toy in her hand. It was a new one that came in the mail just a couple weeks ago.

Clicking the button at the base of the vibrator made it come to life, buzzing in her hand.

The first touch against her swollen clit made her gasp and retract her hand. It was stronger than the others she used, more pulsing than constant.

Her fingertips slid between her legs easily as she prepared herself for the toy, her arousal shining on her skin. She closed her eyes and imagined they were Marcus’s fingers, but let out a frustrated sigh. Her fingers were too small, to fill her in the way that she knew Marcus could.

Sitting down on the floor, she rubbed the toy along her folds, whimpering as she clenched around nothing.

A moan escaped her lips as she pushed the vibrator into herself, letting it fill her as much as possible. She immediately clamped down on it, sucking it deeper in until it sat snugly against her walls.

Leaning back on an arm, she used her free hand to tug at a hardened nipple, sending electricity down to her glistening pearl. When she let go, the soft flesh bounced, skin still glowing from her shower. If only it were Marcus’s hands touching her, caressing her skin.

Her orgasm struck her faster than expected, making her arch her back and let out a faint cry. As ecstasy coursed through her veins, her legs started shaking and her cunt began dripping around the toy, as if it were folding back a flood.

Each clench of her walls only brought her more pleasure, the vibrations becoming too much for her to take.

She reached down and pulled out the toy, gasping as a stream of liquid squirted onto the mirror. Her chest heaved as she watched her pussy gape and clench through droplets of her release.

“Fuck,” she whispered to herself, lying back on the floor. The taste of her cum coated her tongue as she licked the toy clean. “Fuck.”

< previous chapter | next chapter >

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[ryukoishida]

Qian Qiu / Thousand Autumns Fic: [Ch 4] In which SQ drinks with YWS and YA barges in.

Title: You’re a Problem I Encounter Fandom: Qian Qiu / Thousand Autumns Characters/Ships: YanShen Rating: NSFW eventually Chapter: 4/? Summary: Yan Wushi was the proud leader of Huan Yue Group, one of the most influential syndicates in the underground world, who wanted nothing more than to see the world burn. His accidental encounter with the pure-hearted school teacher Shen Qiao was a problem he didn’t expect to get entangled in. A/N: So, funny story, I didn’t plan for this AU to be more than just snippets of scenes and vignettes, so now that there’s actually a Plot, updates might be sporadic at best. Sorry folks :’)  List of Chapters: [1] [2] [3] [4]

---

iv. Fake Love

In the end, Shen Qiao conceded to at least meet with YuWen Yong and his son once before deciding whether or not to completely turn down Yan Wushi’s proposition. That was his begrudged way to make up for the stab wound that was still bleeding merrily on Yan Wushi’s upper arm.

At Shen Qiao’s defeated declaration, the leader of Huan Yue Group looked pleased and seemed unable to hide his grin despite his injury.

With a weary sigh, Shen Qiao reminded him that this was only because he didn’t want Yan Wushi to get any other weirder ideas.

Yan Wushi was completely okay with that.

(When Yan Wushi got back into his vehicle, Bian Yanmei’s brows immediately gathered into a concerned frown at the sight of his superior's injured arm and ruined shirt.

Yan Wushi was known to be a painstakingly meticulous man – everything from his speech, his gestures, the way he fought, the way he dressed – he would not allow anyone to see him in such a disarrayed state. Besides, who would even have the guts and the capability to leave a bloodied mark on the leader of one of the most feared organizations in the syndicate world?  

“Yan-dangjia, is… everything all right?” Bian Yanmei helped him clean and bandage his wound. Thankfully it wasn’t a deep one, but it was definitely going to leave a scar.

“Oh, it’s more than all right,” Yan Wushi said with an amused grin, and left it at that.)

-

Almost an entire month had passed before Shen Qiao and Yan Wushi crossed paths again. They agreed to meet up at a high-end urban lounge in downtown called Indigo Palace, which coincidentally turned out to be one of Yu Ai’s favourite drinking places in the city, and as one of his closest friends, Shen Qiao had long been familiar with the establishment though he rarely partook in alcoholic drinks.

His last visit here had been an unpleasant one, to say the least, and to return to Indigo Palace after that incident instilled a sickening feeling in the pit of his stomach, as if the moment he entered this place, he’d be swallowed up by abhorrent memories and be reminded of the once pure and innocent relationship he shared with Yu Ai had now been poisoned by betrayal and tainted with distrust.

Shen Qiao half-wondered if Yan Wushi picked this place on purpose; knowing his twisted personality, he wouldn’t be surprised if the leader of Huan Yue Group had found out about the connection between his kidnapping and Indigo Palace, and had specifically chosen to meet Shen Qiao here precisely because he wanted to see how he’d react.

No matter, he thought to himself with a bitter smile as he pushed the glass door and strolled in, jazzy lounge music immediately surrounding him like silken sheets, providing him a sort of mundane comfort that he found hard to explain.

Upon seeing Xuan Du Group leader’s adopted son, the concierge in charge of taking care of patrons at the entrance and filtering troublemakers and drunkards instantly plastered on a striking smile and lowered himself into a respectful bow in greeting, to which Shen Qiao warily nodded in return.

“Is Shen-shaoye meeting a friend here? Will you require a private room at all?”

“There’s no need, thank you,” Shen Qiao replied and was about to head straight into the seating area when he changed his mind and turned to ask, “do you happen to know if someone of Huan Yue Group is already here?”

“Speaking of the devil…” the concierge’s face twisted into an expression akin to a mixture of aversion and dread at the mention of such person, “Yan Wushi came in about fifteen minutes ago, claiming he’s here to meet someone. What does the leader of a rival group want from us? Is he trying to pick a fight with Qi-dangjia or something?”

“Where is he seated?” Shen Qiao hoped the clueless boy didn’t actually say or do anything to irate Yan Wushi for real, or he was certain the concierge wouldn’t survive even if he were given ten extra lives to spare.

“At the far end of the bar,” the concierge informed him with a sour look, “Gu-jie is keeping an eye on him in case he starts something.”

A good call on Gu Hengbo’s part, Shen Qiao mused with approval, and thanked the concierge before heading in.

Unlike a lot of pubs and bars in the downtown area, Indigo Palace boasted of tasteful décor, delectable drinks, and professional service. Most patrons were here to relax after a long, grueling day at the office nearby and just wanted to relax with a drink and some venting to their friends and colleagues; others through connections with Xuan Du Group might be here in one of the lounge’s VIP private rooms to deal business of the clandestine and illegal kind. Tonight, it looked just like any other evenings of a workday: men and women in loosened ties and wrinkled blouses chattered quietly in their own secluded circles, expensive drinks in hand.

Shen Qiao meandered his way to the far end of the room where the bar was located, the wall of colourful bottles of alcohol and syrup gleaming with a mystical glow under the subdued lighting of the lounge.

“Shen-dage!” the bartender was the one who spotted Shen Qiao first, and she greeted him with a bright grin and a friendly little wave after putting away the last glass she was wiping clean.  

“Hengbo,” Shen Qiao smiled warmly at the young woman, who was like a little sister to him since she started training and working under Qi Fengge’s tutelage. The four of them – Shen Qiao, Gu Hengbo, Yu Ai, and Tan Yuanchun – shared a close relationship like siblings due to their ages being relatively close. Though as they grew to have their own group of friends and social obligations, Shen Qiao would never think to abandon or cut ties with the three of them no matter how differently they lived their lives.

Gu Hengbo rushed to the side of the bar closest to Shen Qiao and began to prattle away, “Shen-dage, what have you been up to? It feels like it’s been forever since I’ve seen you! And you know Yu-dage, he wouldn’t tell me anything even if I’m being my most charming self.”

“I’m sorry that I wasn’t able to come in to see you sooner,” Shen Qiao smiled apologetically, petting the younger woman on the head with the kind of gentle affection that he only allowed when he was with people that he felt comfortable with. “Work has been… well, you know how it can get.”

Shen Qiao wasn’t good at lying, so the best he could do was avoiding the topic all together. From what he could surmise, Gu Hengbo still didn’t know that he’d been fired from his previous job, nor did she seem to be aware of the kidnapping incident.

“Ah-Qiao, you’ve kept me waiting.”

Before Shen Qiao could continue his conversation with Gu Hengbo, they were rudely interrupted by that oh-so-familiar drawl that could only belong to one person.

“Shen-dage, you know that man?” Gu Hengbo was actually about to tell him to stay away from Yan Wushi. She’d never met the infamous leader of Huan Yue Group herself, but she’d heard enough about the man, and given his dubious reputation, it didn’t make her feel any easier to see her beloved sworn brother getting acquainted with such a dangerous and controversial character, even by the standards of Xuan Du’s lawless nature.

“Unfortunately,” Shen Qiao only said drily, “don’t worry about him. He’s here to see me.”

Shen Qiao sighed, already feeling the start of a headache brewing in his temples, but his upbringing dictated him to greet Yan Wushi with as much courtesy as he could muster under the circumstances.

“Yan-dangjia, I see you’ve already made yourself comfortable,” he folded himself onto the bar stool next to Yan Wushi and was careful to keep a safe distance between them.

“I’ve got to say,” Yan Wushi swirled his drink in a tulip glass, the liquid inside a glistening rich amber, “I would never have expecte this place to serve such excellent cognac.”

“You have Hengbo to thank then,” Shen Qiao said, nodding towards the bartender who was looking at them curiously out of the corner of her eyes, “she’s the one who makes all the purchases here, and she does have an eye for good liquor.”

Yan Wushi raised his glass towards Gu Hengbo with an appreciative hum. She returned the gesture with a curt nod, eyes cold and guarded.  

“And what will you have?” Yan Wushi wanted to know after taking another sip of his cognac.

“Hengbo, can I have my usual please?”

“Of course,” Gu Hengbo happily made his order with elegant ease, measuring out and pouring different liquids into the silver drink mixer. The resulting solution was a pale foggy citrine fluid poured over ice chips into a copper mug and topped with a sprig of mint leaves and a thinly-sliced wedge of lime.

She slid the beverage across the lacquered bar top, but a hand intercepted the mug before it could reach Shen Qiao.

“Yan-dangjia…”  

“Moscow Mule?” Yan Wushi leaned in a little closer to take a whiff, a brow raising up before passing the drink off to Shen Qiao at last. “Virgin?”

“Do you have a problem with my order?”

“Not at all,” Yan Wushi smiled easily behind his glass, “I’m merely interested in what Ah-Qiao’s favourite drink is, that’s all.”

Instead of reacting to Yan Wushi’s comment, Shen Qiao took a much-needed gulp of his drink. The refreshing lime flavor and the spicy-sweetness of the ginger beer instantly cleared up his mind and made him feel better, slightly less annoyed by Yan Wushi’s presence and the brazen way the man kept staring at him while he drank.

Yan Wushi finally spoke after he watched Shen Qiao finished half of his drink.

“Well, how did it go?”

“I imagine you’ve already talked with YuWen Yong, so why are you asking me?” Shen Qiao cradled the mug with both of his hands. He was staring quite hard into the cup as if the answer lay somewhere deep in the bottom of his drink.

“I’d like to hear your side of things, too, Ah-Qiao,” Yan Wushi sounded almost genuine that it made Shen Qiao pause.

“How much did he tell you?” Shen Qiao turned to face the other man, gaze remaining hesitant.

“He sounded impressed, which is a rare occurrence for that man, so that’s saying something. He was also quite upset that you rejected his offer. I heard he’d even proposed to help you re-instate your position at your old academy, or give you a recommendation to an even more distinguished institution.”

“There’s no point in getting a position if it weren’t earned by my own merits,” there was something unshakable in the steady tone of Shen Qiao’s voice that fascinated Yan Wushi.

“There’s no shame in relying on someone else’s help now and then,” Yan Wushi reminded him matter-of-factly.

“That’s where you and I differ, Yan-dangjia,” Shen Qiao said in an equally pragmatic tone.

“I wonder…” the corner of Yan Wushi’s lips curved up in a subtle degree as he leaned closer towards Shen Qiao, the amber liquid in his glass churning with a mesmerizing pattern, “or perhaps you just haven’t hit your lowest point yet.”

As if sensing Yan Wushi’s sudden unwelcome proximity, Shen Qiao quietly shifted his body back with just enough precision and poise that it looked like he was merely changing his position of sitting by crossing his legs the other way naturally.  

“I don’t mind YuWen Yong,” Shen Qiao continued as if that little display of push-and-pull – a silent, deadly waltz – didn’t happen, “as a politician, he has done beneficial deeds for the public and he has good intentions, even if the means to his goals were a little… unscrupulous.”

“So, the problem lies not with him but with his son?”

Shen Qiao nodded grimly.

“I did say that brat’s a handful,” Yan Wushi laughed. “I take it that means you met YuWen Yun as well?”

“YuWen Yong insisted that I at least talked with his son first before making my final decision, so I did.”

“And?” Yan Wushi’s eyes brightened with interest.

He couldn’t avoid interacting with the boy since he was always having meetings with YuWen Yong at the politician’s mansion, but the few times they were forced to talk had been… well, let’s just say that if he didn’t have favorable business ties with YuWen Yong, Yan Wushi wouldn’t have tried as hard to prevent himself from throttling the bratty teenager with his own two hands. He wanted to know what Shen Qiao – a teacher who was experienced in communicating with children of different personalities and attitudes – might think of someone like YuWen Yun, who many would label a problematic child upon their first meeting with him.

“I’ll admit, academically speaking, he’s smart for his age. And maybe far too clever for his own good in other ways.”

“Oh?”

After another sip of his drink, Shen Qiao continued, “he played the role of a perfect high school student and the son of a respectable government official in front of me: bright, polite, just the right level of charm and playfulness, but there was something not quite right – I could see it in his eyes.”

“I didn’t know Shen-laoshi is an expert in physiognomy, too,” Yan Wushi commented with amusement.

“It has nothing to do with physical facial traits,” Shen Qiao said, “call it an instinct—”

“Ah-Qiao!”

The familiar voice made Shen Qiao freeze and his fingers tightened around the copper mug with such force that his knuckles were turning white. He bit his lower lip to stop the words that were about to rush out of his mouth; there were things he’d like to say, but he also knew that once some words were laid out bare, he could never take them back.

But Shen Qiao couldn’t – shouldn’t – run away anymore. Sooner or later, he’d have to face Yu Ai and their crumbling friendship, and what it meant to Xuan Du Group as a whole.

“Ah-Qiao, what are you doing with that bastard?” Yu Ai was now standing directly behind Shen Qiao, his eyes glaring daggers at the unwelcome guest. He’d heard from his own informants that Shen Qiao had started to mingle with some high-level member of Huan Yue Group, but never would he imagine the protagonist of the rumor was none other than the syndicate leader himself.  

Yan Wushi snickered, absolutely unperturbed by the pointed name-calling.

“You have the face to call me a bastard? I’m not the one who betrayed his own brother behind his boss’s back, am I?”

“You—!” Yu Ai was this close to pulling out his revolver despite being in public with witnesses and civilians all around.

At the exact moment that Tan Yuanchun grasped at Yu Ai’s bicep to stop him, Shen Qiao got off the stool and turned around sharply to face his sworn brothers.

“Yu Ai, that’s enough. There are people watching.”

He’d called him by his full name, Yu Ai noticed with a grimace. He didn’t think it would sting this much.

“Ah-Qiao…” Yu Ai seemed relieved that Shen Qiao was at least talking to him, and after sending another dark glare at Yan Wushi for good measure, he suggested in a softer tone as if any sudden or loud noise would scare Shen Qiao away again, “let’s find somewhere quieter. I’ve been meaning to talk to you since…since you quit your job.”

Shen Qiao raised his brows at the painfully awkward pause but said nothing.

“Ah-Qiao, for Tan-dage’s sake, will you hear Ah-Ai out just this once?” Tan Yuanchun opened his mouth for the first time that night, and Shen Qiao couldn’t say no to the benign face of his elder sworn brother.

“Please excuse us for a moment, Yan-dangjia.”

“Of course,” Yan Wushi didn’t even turn to see them go.

“Hengbo, are there any available spare rooms in the VIP area tonight?” Yu Ai called over to Gu Hengbo, who’d been furtively listening in on their conversation as she pretended to mix drinks for patrons.

“Sure,” Gu Hengbo only tripped over her own feet a little when Yu Ai unexpectedly summoned her. “Follow me.”

-

The music was entirely shut out by the soundproof walls of the private room, in which Shen Qiao had sat down on one end of the lush cushioned bench and Yu Ai and Tan Yuanchun had perched on the one that was set perpendicular.

Shen Qiao looked over at Yu Ai expectantly.

From this single expression, Yu Ai knew he’d been found out and that there was no use in covering up anymore, but it was still incredibly difficult for him to start, so he began with small talks, which he knew Shen Qiao hated.    

“H-how have you been holding up? If you’re having financial troubles, I can—”

Shen Qiao’s usually warm brown eyes hardened into cold sepia behind the icy glare of his lenses.

“If you’re that concerned about my wellbeing, then why did you do what you did in the first place?” Shen Qiao demanded. He never demanded anything of anyone – he asked, prodded, requested – but he didn’t like forcing answers out of others unless he was desperate, and right now, he was desperate – frantic and forlorn for the answer that he somehow knew he wouldn’t get from Yu Ai.

He didn’t wait for Yu Ai to confirm his suspicion, and with a sad smile brimming with thick, heavy disappointment that was almost tangible in the air, Shen Qiao said, “it was you, wasn’t it?”

Yu Ai inhaled sharply but didn’t have the heart to deny it.

“You doped my drink that night under the pretense of wanting to have a confidential chat with me about your crush on some woman working under you, when all you wanted was for me to fall unconscious so you can hand me over to Sang Jingxing like a wrapped gift. And for what? Money? A higher position within He Huan Group? What is it? What did Sang Jingxing and Yuan Xiuxiu offer you that made you decide to betray father’s trust… my trust?”

At the end of his rant, Shen Qiao was exhausted, the ice in his eyes melted into nothing but a muddy puddle of confusion, the strength leaving him as suddenly as the heat of frustration had struck just a moment earlier.

“I didn’t mean for the whole thing to go so far,” Yu Ai said weakly, his gaze downcast as he continued in a listless whisper, “Sang Jingxing… that sonovabitch went too far; he wasn’t supposed to hurt you. The initial plan was to just keep you imprisoned, give you a scare, make you reconsider your position…”

“My position…?” Shen Qiao’s brows gathered into a bewildered frown.

“Xuan Du Group needs a leader; we need you. Yet you keep dodging your responsibilities by detaching yourself from Xuan Du, pretending to live amongst civilians like you’re better than the rest of us.”

“I don’t —” Shen Qiao was startled by the raw animosity in Yu Ai’s voice, the bitter scorn etched so agonizingly obvious and real on his face. Had Yu Ai always thought of him this way? Shen Qiao was torn in pondering between this hidden side of Yu Ai and the equally true state of Yu Ai breaking his trust, even if his intention had not been as malevolent as Shen Qiao had initially thought. He just didn’t understand why Yu Ai had to go through such farce to get them here.

“It doesn’t matter now, Ah-Qiao,” Yu Ai said with a resigned exhale, and he glanced up to see the younger man staring at him with wide, lost eyes. He thought maybe he’d finally found the metaphoric chink in Shen Qiao’s always immaculate and perfect armor, and Yu Ai was not one to waste opportunities. “What matters is that you come back to Xuan Du with us. Qi-dangjia, the elders, and all the younger members will be so happy to welcome you back with open arms as their young master.”

Shen Qiao shook his head slowly but firmly; though disbelief was evident on his pale face, it didn’t erase the lucidity that still dominated his mind.

“Xuan Du has father, and father has you and Tan-dage. Hengbo, too. She’s becoming very good at managing Indigo Palace, so father should feel confident to gradually let her handle Xuan Du’s other affairs.”

“But none of us is the true heir of Xuan Du,” Yu Ai said, a sliver of impatience was slipping into his voice. “Qi-dangjia had always wanted you to be his successor eventually, despite the free reigns he gives you, but you wouldn’t quit your civilian job and we’re running out of time, so I figure…”

Yu Ai swallowed hard, and he wished he had something to drink to rid of the lump in his throat, but he pushed on, “I figure we’ve got to do something to force you to quit and rejoin Xuan Du before Qi-dangjia’s condition gets any worse…”

“Father’s condition…? What do you mean?” Shen Qiao cut in with widened eyes. “The last time I went back home…”

The last time Shen Qiao had went back for a visit, Qi Fengge had been taking more medications than Shen Qiao had last remembered, and he’d asked his adoptive father about it, to which the leader of Xuan Du only replied with a tired but genuine smile, “ah, it’s nothing a few more pills and a strict diet won’t fix. You know how it is – it’s the fun part of getting old.”

“I didn’t realize…” Shen Qiao murmured, eyes darkening and fingers gathered into fists partly from remorse of not noticing the gravity of Qi Fengge’s worsening condition sooner and partly from fury that nobody had thought to let him know.

“Qi-dangjia instructed us to not tell you,” Tan Yuanchun said, “he didn’t want to worry you.”

“Do you even know what’s happening within the inner circle of Xuan Du Group right now?” Yu Ai asked with a tense mutter, but the volume of his voice only increased with intensity from there. “The elders are shitting themselves because the group’s losing money, and they’re saying Qi-dangjia is the one to blame for running the organization like it was still the good, old golden days. Now that some of them are aware of his deteriorating condition, they’re going to find any damn excuse to kick Qi-dangjia out of the leader’s seat. Are you going to let those old dogs do that to your father? After all Qi-dangjia has done for you, do you have the heart to leave Xuan Du the way it is now?”

With his chest still heaving from the outburst, Yu Ai could hear the crevices in Shen Qiao’s armor crackling and multiplying, the gashes widening and seeping blood.

“I—” Shen Qiao rose halfway from his seat.

And then the door to the private room swung open.

“Do you enjoy teasing me by keeping me waiting, Ah-Qiao?”

#qian qiu #thousand autumns #shan he jian xin #yanshen #bowie's crappy writing

[cauliflowercounty]

Firsts (Harry Potter x Reader)

House: You Choose

Blood Status:  You Choose

Request: Hi!! Do you think you could write a Harry Potter x reader where they are friends with the trio and Harry says something funny and mid laugh reader casually says “I love you” in a platonic way and Harry gets quiet bc he’s never heard anyone say that before and the reader makes a note to tell him every day that he is loved and it eventually becomes more?????? It came to my mind at work and I can’t stop thinking about it. Thank you so so much💕

A/n

-----

Tossing his book bag to the side, Ron huffs as he sits down next to Harry and Hermione.  He’s obviously in a tizzy.  He runs his hands through his hair, breathing out heavily trying to defuse his anxiety.

“What’s wrong, Ron?” you ask as you approach the group, knowing something must have happened to reduce Ron to such a state.

“It’s Malfoy and his cretins again,” Ron grumbles.  “They were on Ginny and me about how our family is dirt and we’ll never get anything in life because our father is poor.  The usual.  He also told us something along the lines of ‘I, unlike you, am not a disgrace to wizards and purebloods, so he has the right to tell us off.  He’s an absolute rotten git.”

“Ignore him Ron,” Hermione retorts.  “The rise he gets out of you is what he wants.  He’s just seeking attention.  If you ignore him he’ll find someone else to mess with.”  

“Good point, Hermione, but he never seems to move on.  I’m so tired of Malfoy.  It’s been years at this point,” you add.  “I would think he would have run out of things to say about us.  It’s like someone’s feeding him insults to use.”

“You think Draco’s imaginative enough to come up with new material all the time? His head’s full of dry, old, expired Christmas pudding from last year and sand.  His dear old daddy, Lucius, is his source,” Harry quips, prompting a you to crack up laughing.

“Oh my god, Harry! That’s too accurate. I absolutely love you!” you say through your giggles, trying to get a hold of yourself. Harry just stares at you, a bit taken a back. As soon as you see the look on his face, you freeze and your laughter ceases.  “Uh oh,” you think.

Hermione and Ron have noticed the sudden stop.

“Harry?” You ask softly, a look of worry spreading over your face. “Did I say something wrong?”

“N-no, y/n,” Harry stutters, shaking just head quickly, trying to ease the tension and your nervousness. He gets up quickly and takes your hand, pulling you aside and down the hall to an empty classroom. Hermione and Ron give each other a look as you both disappear from sight.

As soon as you’re alone with Harry, he takes a deep breath. You’re officially scared. You’ve been friends with Harry for a long time and you know if he pulls you aside somewhere to have a private conversation, it’s serious. Most often, it’s about dangerous or he’s going to break the rules again and he needs your help. Harry notices the apprehension in your stance and the look on your face easily.

“Sorry, y/n, if I’ve scared you at all,” Harry starts. “It’s just what you said...”

“Did I do something wrong?” You ask. As soon as you say that the realization dawns on you. “It was the ‘I love you’ wasn’t it? Did it make you uncomfortable? Oh, God. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable, Harry. It was meant to be like a friendly ‘I love you.’ It won’t h-!”

“No, no, no!” Harry says as quickly as he hears what you’re saying. “It’s not that... it didn’t bother me at all. It was actually... welcome, if I’m honest. It’s just I don’t hear it a lot. The Dursley’s weren’t really the cuddliest of people towards me.”

You nod in agreement, and Harry looks into your eyes as if to say thank you.

“Oh, Harry.  I’m so sorry.  Well, you deserve to hear it, Harry,” you smile.  “You should be hearing it all the time.”

“Thanks, y/n,” Harry grins as you bring him into a hug.  He sighs as he wraps his arms around you in return, a warm tingly feeling glowing in his chest.  As you break away, you giggle a bit.  Harry looks down at his scuffed up trainers in the cute, shy way he does when he’s a bit nervous or there’s an awkward pause.

“Come on, Harry,” you say finally.  “Hermione and Ron are all alone.  We should get back before they get in a fight and Hermione resorts to calling him ‘Ronald’ and he’s ignoring her at every turn.”

“Yeah,” Harry chuckles as you grab his hand and pull him away.  “They’re pretty lost without us.”

~

After your private conversation with Harry, you had been thinking about what he’d said.  You felt sad that just casually saying “i love you” had had such an effect on Harry.  It had made him shocked and surprised, which was a bit heart breaking but at the same time understandable because of his upbringing.  From that day forth, you had made a commitment to coming up to Harry and telling him he’s loved or cared for.  You made sure to do it in moments where there weren’t a lot of people around, especially the Slytherins because Harry’d never see the end of it if Draco and his posse overheard.  Plus, it was something between the two of you and not for the world.

In your opinion, your endeavor was highly successful. The first two or three times, it caught Harry off guard and you could sense he felt on the spot, but you always lightened the mood with a good talk over a butterbeer or some sort of magical sweet.  After a while, Harry got more and more used to hearing “I love you” and not before long, he began to smile very time you said it, even looking forward to it daily.  He’d wonder when you’d say it each day and you never failed to tell him.

You also enjoyed telling him “i love you” from day to day.  it was like a little moment that would was guaranteed to make you smile no matter what.  Even if the day was horrible, that one interaction with harry would make it all better because of the look on his face.  The way his cheeks grow slightly pink and how wide his smile gets was always a little treat.  It made you happy to see Harry like this.

After about a month and a half of this, you’d noticed a new pattern in Harry’s behavior every time you’d come into the room and not just when you were saying your daily “i love you.” He’d now become bashful and fiddle with his quill or the hem of his clothes. When Harry was nervous usually, he’d grip his wand tightly or stare off in front of him as if he had some sort of purpose or direction. Clenching his fist was a good tell for Harry’s nervousness or anxiety level, but  this was different.

Finally, your concern overtook you and now you’re facing Harry in and abandoned classroom.

“Harry?” you say looking straight at him.  “What’s been going on?  I’ve noticed you acting different around me.  When I first started this “I love you thing,” I checked with you and you said that you were okay with it.  Did that change?  You know I respect your boundaries and if you want me to stop I will.  Please just communicate with me?  The last thing I want to do is destroy our friendship.”

“Y/n,” Harry says, reaching out and gripping you by your arms to try to calm you.  He could tell you were about to start rambling.  “Like I said, I’m not uncomfortable.  It’s okay.  I just... I guess now’s a good time to say what I’ve been thinking....”

“Are you okay?” you ask softly.  “Whatever you’re about to say to me sounds serious.”

“I-i...,” Harry trails off, taking his hands back and placing them on his hips.  He exhales deeply and turns away for a second.  Something must be looming over him. A moment later, he turns back and readjusts himself. “I just wanted to tell you... No. I’m just going to come out with it.  I like it when you tell me “i love you,” y/n.  It really makes my day.”

“I’m so glad you feel that way, Harry,” you respond, your heart warming knowing that what you’re doing is making Harry feel good.

“It’s just changed something for me...  How I see you... and how I feel about you,” he admits anxiously.  “I get so happy when you come up to me and I’ve realized that I want to hear that all the time, but I want you to mean it, mean it and not just say it because you’re my friend and I should hear that people love me more often.”

“Oh, Harry,” you gasp, not ever expecting this would be how this conversation would evolve.

“That’s why I’ve been acting different around you.  I’ve been wrestling with this,” Harry explains. “For as long you’ve been saying this, it’s just been a nice gesture, and I don’t know if I can take it if that’s how it’s always going to be.  Each time you come up, I get this feeling I want you to be closer to me.  I... y/n I want us to be more than friends, but ‘us’ seems like an impossibility, and each time you’ve come up to me for the past few weeks, I’ve been considering distancing myself to spare myself the heartache. That’s why I’ve been acting strange.”

Initially, you’re shocked and surprised, but you smile at him and rush forward and wrap him up in a tight hug.  

“Is that how you really feel, Harry?” you murmur over his shoulder into his ear, and you feel him nod.  “That’s a relief because in the last few weeks, I’ve been feeling different about you. too.  It makes me happy to see you smile.  I love your company and I want you around all the time.  I’ve meant every ‘I love you’ I’ve said for weeks.  I feel the same way.”

You both pull back and look into each other’s eyes and break out into laughter, grinning like idiots.

“So... I guess we’ve been thinking the same thing for weeks and we never once addressed it?” you chuckle.

“I guess so,” Harry nods.  You shake you head with another laugh building in your chest.

“How come other couples make getting together out to be so much easier, but it takes us weeks to figure out what’s going on?” you ask with a fake exasperated sigh. 

“I don’t know, but we got there in the end,” Harry concludes as he takes your hand in his.  “Let’s go, y/n.  We should be getting back.”

“So we’re... together now?” you ask, still in disbelief.  “Just like that?”

“No.  We’ve been demoted to acquaintances.  This interaction was way too much for our teenage brains to handle.  Of course we are!” Harry jokes.  “But only if you want to, y/n.”

“Okay, okay.  Stop stalling and beating around the bush.  I like you, Harry,” you state.  “and you admitted you like me AND said you wanted us to be together.  I also said that, too.  Now, by the law of mutual confessions, we are now obligated to try to be together or are in fact together. Do you object to this logic?”

“Not at all,” Harry replies, laughing at your formality.  He smiles at you and slowly leans in, bringing his lips inches away from your own.  “Is this okay?”

You nod at him and he closes the gap,  You close your eyes.  The kiss is perfect and gentle. As your heart leaps in your chest, Harry wraps his free arm around you.  Breaking away after a few blissful moments, Harry grins at you.

“Hermione and Ron are going to have a field day when we tell them,” you whisper to him.

“Don’t remind me,” Harry mumbles. “That’s a problem for later,” he sighs, going back in for one more kiss, and you and Harry are finally on the same wavelength.  This has been a long time coming.

#Harry Potter #golden trio era #harry potter x reader #y/n #hp #hp fanfic

[wlw-lovestruck-fiction]

Oh I loved that Xenia with pregnant mc post! I found out a few weeks ago that I’m pregnant with my wife & I’s first baby! Can you please give us more head canons of how Xenia would treat a pregnant MC? 🖤🌌

Written by @myqueennadia

Struggles of Pregnancy

Xenia is honestly more well versed on the discomforts of pregnancy rather than the joyous moments pregnancy can bring.

She really only read up on the shortcomings of pregnancy. Not because she saw the process of pregnancy as bad, but she wanted to be prepared for every possible thing. She isn’t a medical professional by any means, but she wouldn’t be the type of wife to simply sit around while her love suffers.

Morning sickness is perhaps the shortcoming that she was most prepared for. She is always there. She has a couple of her spiders keep MC company at all times. Honestly, she always tasked at least two spiders with that even before MC fell pregnant. One spider is to always stay with MC while the other goes to Xenia to tell her when MC feels sick. She is there right away.

She would always be there, holding MC’s hair back, rubbing her sides, anything to make this less painful. A couple times, when the sickness was abnormally bad, she sang to her. Xenia is not one for singing, frankly she doesn’t think she has a good singing voice at all, but over the years she’s observed the affect her singing has on MC. She’ll sing songs from the Wilds, songs from her home, generally soft and soothing songs.

Back pain is another huge issue. MC tends to have back pains, even before she was pregnant. MC is a Queen, the Stress of her people is her stress. And unfortunately, the people of Lysende carry quite a number of burdens. Stress often weighs MC down, her muscles in pain. Pregnancy has only made these pains worse. Xenia, of course, is happy to help.

She won’t let MC wear heels of any kind. Heels make back pains worse, so she will not let MC wear any heeled shoes. She is particularly insistent on this one. There is no need to do anything that makes your pain worse.

Mood Swings were expected but they’re…interesting. It brings out emotions in both MC and Xenia that they didn’t even know existed. MC despises it. She doesn’t like being angry or sad, or even happy when she’s supposed to be disheartened. It makes for a lot of awkward conversations with the council.

Obviously, there isn’t anything anyone can do about mood swings. As much as they are loathsome, they are a part of it all. However, that doesn’t stop Xenia from trying to ease their weight a bit.

She is amazing with dealing with MC when she has some mood swings, the woman has an unbelievable amount of patience. It’s terrifying. She’ll talk to her rationally when she gets a burst of anger, especially if it’s about a minuscule issue. She’ll hold her when she’s sad, reminiscing about memories of the Wilds or her own past. They like to talk about their childhoods.

Despite the struggles pregnancy brings, both MC and Xenia are ecstatic for the baby! They talk about their childhoods often, writing down aspects of their life that they think could have gone better and what, as parents, they could do to prevent their child from feeling that way. And of course, they will also write down details that they would like to add to their child’s life. Fun things, crucial elements in their upbringing etc.

General headcanons

She checks up on MC frequently. Honesty and communication have always been the key element to their successful relationship. The decision to have a child wasn’t just something they did out of obligation to the crown, but a commitment they decided to make together. Secretly, Xenia is fearful that MC regrets her decision. Her Majesty is quick to strike those fears down.

Xenia is the Queen of Massages. She has four arms and incredibly gifted fingers. Pregnancy is beautiful but very inconvenient. Xenia is there to take the pain away as best she can.

She is shameless when talking to the baby. She has her fair share of sweet conversations: “Your mother and I can’t wait until you get here”. But she doesn’t care when or where she talks to the baby (obviously she plays her cards right, if her comments would jeopardize something, she doesn’t make them). She has a bad habit of making conversation in the middle of the night. That and she enjoys making sarcastic remarks to the baby when someone has said something less than intelligent.

She likes to sing to the baby too. She says that she’s only doing so to “help the baby build up an immunity to less than perfect singing”, but really she does it to help. Usually when the baby is restless and kicking, she sings. It always helps MC calm down so it might calm her child down.

She’s surprisingly worried about MC during the entirety of the pregnancy. Usually, she trusts MC can take care of herself. Occasionally she’s a bit clumsy, yeah, but for the most part she’s got a good head on her shoulders. But when she’s pregnant…worried is used loosely here.

She does well to hide her worry and concern for her Queen from everyone else, but she’s given up hiding anything from MC for a while.MC, of course, appreciates the worry but thinks it is misplaced. That won’t stop Xenia.

She’ll walk around arm in arm with MC, another arm around her waist to steady her. Gods forbid they find themself at the beginning of a staircase. If she feels even a little under the weather, off to either the medic or Gideon.

Embroidery helps her calm down a bit, and she’s not half bad at it. She’s made plenty of things for both MC and the baby.

She is in complete awe. When Val died…she lost all hope she had of becoming a mother. Dashed all her hopes away and worked on becoming who she was today. Now…seeing MC carrying a child, her child…she’s never felt so complete.

#Anonymous #lovestruck #women of lovestruck #lovestruck headcanons #reigning passions xenia #xenia x mc #xenia of the autumn #rp xenia #reigning passions #fluff #miscellaneous monday #answered

[ask-the-riders]

War very awkwardly asks Connie about some stuff

to be more specific: she very awkwardly tries to ask Conquest about sex. I didn’t include anything super graphic, though at one point (with Pest’s logic), it may hint at some things

don’t ask where this idea came from, because I don’t even know at this point

Pest eavesdrops on the conversation, and surprise surprise, Ret joins him, claiming it’s for educational purposes. Fam thinks the two are being ridiculous, and Death thinks the three of them are being dumb

“Hey Connie?... Do you have a minute?”

Conquest hummed, bumping the oven door shut with her hip as she slid off her oven mitts. Shifting her attention to the kitchen doorway, she offered her visitor a small smile, “Of course. What’s up, War? You look like you have something on your mind.” War’s cheekbones dusted a soft shade of blue and she cleared her throat, “I was wondering if maybe you’d be able to talk a little.” As Conquest finished setting a timer on the stove, she made a sound of confirmation, “I see. What exactly did you want to talk about?”

The glitch seemed to hesitate, appearing nervous as she glanced around. Easily catching this, Conquest tilted her head, frowning in concern, “Hey, what’s wrong?... Is everything alright, War?” In response, the other female rider gave a nearly immediate nod and lowered her gaze to the floor, her voice softer than before, “Yeah, everything’s fine, don’t worry. I just… Wanted to ask about some stuff, and it’s kinda… Embarrassing…” Connie nodded slowly in understanding, very clearly unsure what direction this conversation would be heading. When it came to her feelings and anything to do with her soulmate, War had always been awkward. Ever since Connie began living with them, at least. Everything before then, she wasn’t sure about.

War took a tiny step closer, her figure glitching as she paused to look back over her shoulder again, and Connie let out a soft sigh, moving across the kitchen to gently take one of War’s hands, prompting the glitch to follow her to the table, “It’s ok, I promise. How about you have a seat out here with me? I can get you some water or something, whatever you’d like, and then we can talk. I’m not scheduled to leave for work until tomorrow, so we have all day to talk, if that’s how long our discussion lasts.”

The former destroyer made a soft sound of agreement, trailing along behind Conquest as she was pulled toward the kitchen table. Once they reached it, Connie pulled out a chair and looked to War, gesturing to it, “Here you go, buddy. Can I get you anything, before I sit down too?” War shook her head, murmuring a soft ‘no thank you’, and Connie nodded, sitting in the seat directly beside her companion. Her touch was soft and careful as she reached out to lightly touch the other skeleton’s arm, “Ok… You may begin whenever you like. Don’t feel pressured to have immediate responses to things, alright? I’m not going anywhere, and I’ll wait as long as you need me to.”

War hummed, signaling that she understood, and then glanced at Conquest, her sockets holding a combination of relief, embarrassment, and appreciation. True to her word, Conquest remained silent, patiently waiting as War figured out how she wanted to approach the subject. A moment passed before the former destroyer’s face became a slightly brighter shade of blue, “Well, um… You’re a mom, right?” Briefly recalling her son’s smiling face in her mind, Conquest smiled softly, “Yes, that I am.” War began to pick at the stitching on one of her jacket’s sleeves, “What’s that like?” Connie’s entire being seemed to soften further, a peaceful aura about her as she hummed in consideration, “It’s different for everyone. For me though, it’s the best thing that could’ve happened to me. I’d wanted to have a baby for a while, so when I found out I was pregnant, it was like a dream come true. It’s not always easy and peaceful, sometimes it can be hectic and trying, but in the end, I think every moment of that is well worth it.”

At the way the other spoke of being a mother, War smiled softly, “You really love your kid a lot, don’t you?” In response, the other hummed in confirmation, “Of course. My Mortem can be a handful sometimes, but he’s the sweetest. A truly good child, if I’ve ever seen one.” While the current topic was very soft and peaceful, and made War’s soul swell within her chest, she knew she had to try to steer the conversation back toward her original question. Tipping her head to the side, she stole a curious glance at Conquest, “I can’t wait to meet him, Connie. From what you’ve mentioned before, he sounds like he’s a funny little guy.” She paused, hesitating for a few seconds, “I… Can’t imagine that the birth was easy on you though. Or the pregnancy, for that matter.” 

Conquest shrugged, completely casual and at ease, “The pregnancy was alright. Not always the greatest, but it was really special, knowing there was a life slowly forming inside me, growing into the baby I’d always wanted. The birth, however… Yeah. That’s one thing that I didn’t enjoy in the slightest.” War arched a brow bone, resting an elbow on the tabletop and leaning forward to plant her chin on her palm, “It hurt like hell, I take it?” Her companion nodded, both brow bones briefly lifting, “Oh yeah, it did. I was given a special medicine and had some magic being used to try to soothe my body, but it still felt like I was being torn in half. I cried quite a bit, screamed too, even, but… When I got to hold my baby and actually see his face, and those big, adorable eyes of his, all that pain became worth it.”

War was internally cringing at the type of pain Conquest had described, a look of mild horror flickering across her face. How could anyone willingly endure something like that, and then turn around and say a screaming baby that puked on them was worth it? Babies also stank sometimes, they were extremely fragile, and they required round the clock care. War didn’t understand it at all, not a single bit. The thought of what it’d be like if she was a mother crossed her mind, and she had to bite back an amused snort; there’s no way she would be able to do it. There was simply no freaking way in hell she’d make a good mom. Not with her past, considering how dramatically her upbringing negatively influenced her, not just physically, but also mentally and emotionally, not with her temper, since she knew it could get bad at times, and especially not with her set of genetics. 

She imagined a newborn baby, glitching and already covered in errors, and she frowned. She wouldn’t wish that on anyone. Especially not a baby.

At her momentary silence, Conquest tilted her head, “May I ask why you’re expressing such a sudden interest in motherhood, War?” The glitch blinked, snapping out of her thoughts, “No reason. I’m just kinda curious, I guess.” Conquest stared at her for a moment, leaning closer and narrowing her eyes, as if trying to piece something together, and as she grew closer to War, the glitch drew back, making a face, “Connie, what are you-?” The female rider in question suddenly lit up, a wide smile on her face as her golden-orange eye lights shifted into stars, “OH MY GOODNESS, WAR, ARE YOU WITH CHILD?!” 

War’s sockets immediately widened and her entire face erupted in a deep blue blush as she screeched, reaching out to press a hand over Conquest’s mouth to silence her, “NO, I’M NOT! DON’T GO ASSUMING STUFF LIKE THAT ALL OF A SUDDEN, STUPID!” Conquest seemed to deflate, both at the revelation that she was wrong, that would be no babies in the house anytime soon, and upon hearing herself be called “stupid.” As War processed the look her companion was wearing, she frowned; oh great, just perfect. She’d screwed up, and now it was imperative that she fixed it. She let out a deep sigh, tugging Conquest into a hug and muttering, “Stop it, don’t look at me with such a sad face. You’ll make me sad too, if you keep it up.” She paused, doing her best to forget about pride and dignity, and even her own awkwardness, “...I’m sorry, ok? I didn’t mean to call you stupid, I swear. That’s just how I react to things, I guess.”

Connie returned the hug, despite the soft scoff she gave, “You’re forgiven, though for your sake, I hope that’s a habit you intend to break.” The glitch snorted, “I won’t make any promises, but I’ll at least try.” Conquest pulled back from the hug, sticking her tongue out at War, “Good, I look forward to seeing your progress then.” War rolled her eye lights, “Uh huh, yeah sure, whatever.”

Drifting back to their conversation, Conquest’s brow bones became knit in confusion, “If you’re not with child, then why were you asking about motherhood?... I’m afraid you’ve lost me.” War made a face, releasing the other from the hug and leaning back in her seat, crossing her arms over her chest and glancing away, her blush beginning to spread down to her shoulders, “It’s not so much about being a mom that I wanted to ask about. It was more or less about the uh… creation… that leads to one becoming a mom.” Conquest was silent for a moment, before her own cheekbones tinted orange and a teasing grin slowly stretched across her face, “War, are you trying to ask me about sex?” 

Immediately tensing and beginning to glitch worse than before, War’s sockets became wide again and she dug her fingers into her arms through her sleeves and she snapped, “Hey, watch it! Don’t say it so loud!” Conquest attempted to refrain from giggling, her tone turning playful, “Awe, come on, buddy. Don’t tell me no one’s ever given you the talk!” War’s embarrassment only seemed to increase, and she began to wonder if asking Conquest was a mistake. Trying to deflect the embarrassment she felt, she hissed, “Oh shut up, I’ve been given the talk before, ok? It was by a bunch of freaks who all happened to be totally nuts, and it was way less that graceful and what’d normally be considered appropriate for a child, but I’ve gone through that before. I figured I’d ask you, since you’re the only person I know that’s ever been pregnant.”

Connie easily waved off the other’s words; she’d seen War’s file before, and a part of her wanted to reach out and hug War, knowing that ‘the talk’ she’d been given had ended up being much more than that. At that age, War should’ve been loved and protected, not constantly belittled and abused. If it would’ve been at all possible, Conquest knew she would’ve gladly taken in the glitch. Anything would’ve been better than what she’d had to endure.

She sighed, the corners of her mouth still upturned into a lighthearted grin, “Yeah, yeah, I’m sure that’s exactly what your logic was. Go ahead and ask away, War. I might not have all the answers, but I’ll fill in as many blanks as I can.” 

War, although still embarrassed and hesitant, began to pose one question after another, and Connie was patient, answering what she could to the best of her ability in a way that hopefully wouldn’t make War even more embarrassed. Outside the kitchen, just around the corner in a nearby hallway, Pestilence and Retribution were lurking. Retribution was hugging his knees, his completely flushed, brightly glowing cyan face hidden by his cloak as he listened, genuinely attempting to learn without asking the questions himself. Beside him was Pestilence, sitting straight up without even a hint of a slouch. His sockets were entirely dark, void of his usual white and green eye lights, and all the way down to his shoulders, he was flushed a bright shade of sickly green, perhaps just as flustered as Retribution.

Retribution was mentally taking notes, picking out the important bits to hold onto for later reference, and Pestilence could’ve sworn he felt his soul leave his body at the implications of the conversation that the girls were having; either War wanted to have a baby, or War had no experience whatsoever in this particular department. That in itself though implied that she was a… - no. He cursed at himself, trying to shake off the thoughts he was having. He was doing so good behaving around War and not making things weird or awkward. He wasn’t about to dwell on such a personal piece of information that she likely didn’t want him to know in the first place.

Further down the hall, Famine quietly watched his teammates, trying to understand the reason for all their blushing. He crept closer, listening in and beginning the catch bits of War and Conquest’s conversation. Piecing things together, his cheekbones gained a faint blue blush, and he arched a brow bone.

War’s voice was softer and harder to make out as she lowly asked, “I uh… I’ve read that it’s supposed to… hurt… the first time. Does it?” As Connie gave her answer, Famine watched as Retribution’s body jolted and Pestilence curled in on himself, pulling his hood up over his head and yanking on the drawstrings to hide his face. He snorted in amusement, completely casual as Death made his way past the small gathering, his eyes glued to the screen of his phone and a cup of coffee in hand, a bright green plastic straw between his teeth. Already aware of what was going on, he rolled his single visible eye light, murmuring lowly, “You three are more disappointing than an unsalted pretzel sometimes.” 

While Retribution didn’t seem to care enough to come up with a clever retort as he normally would and Pestilence remained in a state of shock… or whatever was going on with him at the moment, from what he’d heard, Famine caught the comment that Death made, his amusement rapidly fading. As if he could feel Famine frowning, Death sighed, turning to face him and briefly pausing, pointing an awkward finger gun at him while his hand also held his phone, “Hey, Fam, no. I’m kidding. It’s a joke, ok? You aren’t a disappointment.” He gestured to his face and gave the other a goofy grin, “See? I’m smiling. Everything’s fine, big guy, I promise.” Famine seemed to relax, silent for a moment before he hummed, tilting his head and smirking, “That’s alright, Death. I’d repay the favor and insult ya back, but uh… There’s no way I’d be able ta do a better job than nature already did.”

Death let out a stage gasp, pressing a hand to his chest and feigning hurt, “You’ve wounded me, Famine! Whatever shall I do now?” Famine snorted, rolling his eye light, “Ya should get a move on before I decide ta put you outta your misery.” Death chuckled, “You can’t kill Death, pal. That’s not how this works.” The taller of the two arched a brow bone, his expression deadly serious, “You sure about that? I think we should find out.” The reaper playfully flipped his middle finger at the other and grinned, and visibly amused, Famine returned the gesture. 

Retribution peeked out of his cloak, his entire face still glowing cyan; he had no idea what had just happened with that exchange between Death and Famine, and while he’d normally be a tad bit concerned, he noticed the grin on Famine’s face, which soothed his worries. It seemed he had nothing to be worried about, this time.

#idk what this even is #i'm v tired rn #writing #four horsemen of the apocalypse #riders of the apocalypse #undertale #undertale au #war.exe #conquest.exe #retribution.exe #pestilence.exe #famine.exe #death.exe #reaper sans #on today's episode of: the shit war deals with

[allaganexarch]

Stormchaser Prologue Survey Results!

Thank you all so much for taking the time to play through my short preview of Stormchaser, and for taking the time to respond to the survey!  It’s extremely helpful especially to gauge the response of people who don’t know me personally or talk to me directly about their experience!

If you haven’t played Stormchaser yet, or you would like to fill out the survey, please don’t let this post discourage you!  I will of course keep monitoring responses moving forward, but I figured people might like to see a little bit of the results so far!

1. Did you choose a name for your character or use the one provided?

About 1/4 of respondents used the name provided, while the other 3/4 chose their own character name.  I wish I had also asked if people chose a character name or used their own name (as that’s what I usually do) but that would have been more of a curiosity question.  I’m interested in how people tend to engage with narratives where the player character isn’t very defined by the story, specifically how much separation they feel between themselves and the character.

I’m not super attached to the current default name (Emma)--it’s mostly there to indicate that you are only choosing a first name.  I may try changing it to something a bit more unique and see whether that changes the number of people who stick with the provided name.

2. What kind of character customization would be most impactful for you?

Respondents were evenly split between the four options I provided (appearance, upbringing/background, past relationships with characters, and satisfied with just a name), with no alternative suggestions.

This was more of a curiosity question, as character customization is a pretty low priority for me right now.  I really like the mood that’s set by jumping into the story quickly with just a first name, and any other character customization would happen later, after the prologue at least.

I as a writer have a very strong personal rule: I do not provide physical description unless it is immediately relevant and makes sense in the context of the chosen perspective.  Therefore, letting the player customize their character’s appearance would have absolutely no bearing on the story at this time.  Past relationships with characters will I think for ease of writing remain fairly rigid, with the story assuming that how you react to them in the present reflects how you felt about them in the past.

Something I would be more likely to implement sooner rather than later is providing a few hobbies/interests for the player, which might open up some different kinds of interactions with companions who share those interests.

3. How did you feel about Owen?

(Final results read “...but my character did/didn’t”, contrary to how respondent felt)

4. Sohvi?

5. Raya?

I honestly expected more indifference toward Owen, as he is mostly just world dressing LOL!  While it’s very gratifying that respondents overwhelmingly liked Sohvi and Raya, I would only have been concerned if they were overwhelmingly indifferent.

6. Did you kiss Raya?

(Final results read “...but I would have”, “...and I wouldn’t have”, and “--not sure if I would have”, respectively)

Now, this was really interesting to me, and I really wish I had asked a follow-up question about this, namely, why or why not?  I imagine some people would take the option just because it was there, while others might not feel it was a good time story- or character-wise, as opposed to simply wanting or not wanting to.

Hopefully as soon as my next update, I want to implement a more subtle way of flagging romance with Raya, without necessarily kissing her or even if you choose the path which doesn’t give you the option--which the results suggest not a lot of you did!  As we don’t know what exactly happened to her by the end of the prologue, it’s safe to say she doesn’t have a potential romance arc quite like our other soon-to-be-companions, but your feelings towards Raya are far from irrelevant in what’s to come.

7. Did you feel like the choices you made mattered?

I already shared this additional response but it’s my prized possession:

Extremely gratifying, as I very much wanted to create a sense of not being able to easily guess which choices mattered or didn’t matter, and of course some choices don’t matter NOW but will eventually!  Also avert your eyes from my code it’s messy LOL.

8. What are you most interested in?

Out of options “what’s causing the storms”, “what happened to Raya”, “what happened to the character’s parents”, and “meeting the other romanceable characters”, as well as an “other” option, respondents were overwhelmingly most interested in what’s causing the storms!  “Other” answers included “all of the above” and “the City and the not-city”.

Makes logical sense with how the story is set up, but gratifying nonetheless to see that my premise seems to read well!  I consider myself a very character-driven writer as well as reader and am much more confident in my character arcs than in my choice of overarching plot elements LOL, so it was just interesting to see what was most compelling to the respondents outside of like, what I think most about/talk most about with friends.

The final survey question was just an option for additional comments, all of which were people saying nice things ♥

So, what’s next?

You will be journeying into the outskirts of the City to try to gather some information on what’s been going on there since you left.  You will meet and form a strong first impression of four major characters, three of whom will be romanceable.  Hoping to have at least some of this new content ready to go by the end of May.

Thank you again so much for your interest and engagement!  If you’d like to share more thoughts or ask questions, please feel free!

#stormchaser #exciting tag for writing things