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trickphotography2 · 3 months

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'tis the damn season | Chapter 5

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Julie/Cece (OC, no physical description)

Word count: 4.8K

Note: This chapter includes brief mentions of miscarriages.

Synopsis: After six years away from home, Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin was finally going to make his parents happy and surprise his family by spending Christmas in Magnolia, Texas. Introducing his pregnant fiancee to his family is a culture clash, with rural Texas meeting California influencer. Though unhappy in his relationship, Jake knows he has to buckle down and do the right thing with a baby on the way.

The last person he expected to run into was his high school sweetheart and the one that got away, Julie.

The holidays are already going to be hard enough for Julie. Her home baking business, which had started as a fun side project, exploded after a few TikToks went viral. Just when she was getting the hang of juggling her job and business, tragedy struck. Facing her first Christmas as an orphan, the last thing Julie expected was to hear that once familiar nickname - Cece.

After almost a decade apart, Jake and Julie can't help but feel that old familiar spark. Even with the realities of their lives pressing in, they can't help but wonder what might have happened if just one of them had fought for their relationship all those years ago.

Chapter 4 | Master List | Ao3

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Chapter 5

The ride back to the ranch was quiet, interrupted by the buzzing of Jake’s phone. Fanboy had apparently found Shayla’s video announcing the pregnancy and sent it to the Dagger group chat.

Merry Christmas. And congrats Hangman?????

The squad chimed in with their half-hearted congratulations and pointed comments that they hadn’t expected to find out about the first Dagger baby online. After scrolling through the first few messages, he silenced his phone. When they approached the main house, he barely waited for Will’s truck to stop before throwing open the door and heading inside. “Merry Christmas, asshole!” his big brother called through the window before heading off to the foreman’s quarters and his pregnant wife.

Jake knew he was being an asshole. Will had done nothing but be honest, but he didn’t want to hear those hard truths.

“You gotta let her go. It’s not fair to you or her or Shayla.”

And he knew that. He’d gotten his hopes up after running into Cece in Austin and started thinking about how to convince her to give him another chance. He’d been two years into his eight-year obligation after finishing flight school and had even thought about promising her that he would resign from the Navy after completing it. But when she stopped answering his texts and calls, Jake realized that it had just been a bathroom hookup for her. Especially when she’d ignored him the next year when he’d tried to say hello in the grocery store.

Watching the love of his life walk away from him for the third time was one of the hardest things Jake had to do. Which is why he’d avoided coming home for the last six years. It was easier to get over heartbreak if he wasn’t reminded of her at every turn. There wasn’t a place in Magnolia that wasn’t associated with some memory of Cece.

And the longer he was away, the easier it was to forget. It took a long time for him to not see her favorite flower and think of her. To stop reaching for his phone to call her when something exciting happened or he needed someone to talk to. To not want to send her pictures as he traveled to places they’d imagined visiting while lying in bed together, dreaming about what their life would be like.

It had only taken seeing her in his mama’s kitchen for all those feelings to rush back. Even as the woman he’d promised to marry and was carrying his baby stood in front of him, Jake didn’t want to hurt Cece by saying that Shayla was his fiancée. He’d caught that brief flicker of pain on her face before she’d smiled, and he’d reminded himself that it was her choice to leave. That, no matter their history, they didn’t have a claim on one another. Which is what he tried to remind himself as he watched the firefighter kiss her. Just because he’d promised to be her first and last kiss didn’t mean anything.

But now he wasn’t so sure it was her choice that she left. Had he pushed her out by keeping his deployment secret?

Jake’s musings were cut short when he opened the door and heard his parents talking in the kitchen. Kicking off his boots and hanging up his coat, he crept toward the stairs until Pops called, “Jacob? That you, son?”

“Yes, sir,” he sighed, letting go of the banister and walking toward the kitchen. Mama and Pops sat at the table, holding hands as they drank their nightly cup of tea. For as long as he could remember, this had been their evening routine - spending twenty minutes together, usually after he and Will went to bed, just to talk and spend time with one another. Even when Pops moved to the foreman's house for a few weeks when Jake was 16, not long after Will had left for college, they would keep up their nightly talks.

“Have a good time in town?” Mama asked, watching her youngest pour himself a glass of water.

“Saw lotsa folks I haven’t seen since high school,” Jake shrugged. “Good to catch up with ‘em.” His parents shared a look before Mama pushed to her feet.

“I’m heading up.” Jake caught how she used the table to help her stand and the grimace as her bones cracked. When she neared, he noticed the sad, tired look in her eyes before she crooked a finger at him. Leaning down, he couldn’t help but smile when she brushed a kiss on his cheek. “Night, baby. Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas, Mama.” After patting his chest, she rinsed her mug and put it in the dishwasher before leaving.

“Pull up a chair.” Though said lightly, the order in Pop’s voice was unmistakable. Taking his water with him, Jake sat beside his father and scrubbed a hand through his hair. At the older man’s heavy sigh, he hung his head, feeling like a kid again. “Son.”

“I’m sorry.”

“For?”

“This trip hasn’t gone as I thought it would.” Pops hummed, and Jake glanced up at him.

“It’s certainly been an interesting few days.” Jake huffed, shaking his head. When Pops cleared his throat, he forced his gaze up. The older man looked tired as he ran a hand through hair that was more grey than brown these days. “Your mother and I were talking about it, and… we’d like you to have a conversation with Shayla about respect in this house.”

“Pops - ” Holding up a hand, the older man sighed.

“I know she’s your fiancée, but this is my home. And respect for others is an expectation here, as you know. Right?”

“Yes, sir.” Bill hesitated for a moment before pressing on.

“I know that you and Julie have… a complicated past, but that girl is family. She was long before the two of you got together. And she will be respected as such. What Shayla did was unacceptable, especially after I opened my house to Julie to get her work done. I expect her to apologize.”

“I… I’ll try.” Pressing his lips into a thin line, the older man breathed heavily through his nose before sipping his tea. Like his mother, when Pops stood, Jake could see the effort it took. His parents weren’t old - just in their mid-50s - but life wasn’t easy when you did daily physical labor. Bill and Kerry Seresin dedicated every day to maintaining the ranch and making sure that there was something to pass on to their boys. But seeing the difference in them since his last trip to Magnolia made Jake regret that he hadn’t come home sooner.

After setting his mug in the dishwasher and starting it, Pops clapped a hand on Jake’s shoulder. “I’m headed up. I’ll see you for chores?”

“Yeah.” Nodding, the older man walked toward the hallway, pausing in the doorframe.

“I love you, son. But I don’t like the person you are now. I don’t recognize him.”

Jacob Seresin wasn’t a man who cried. He could count on one hand the time’s he’d done it since turning 18, but those words, filled with disappointment, hit him like a bullet through the chest. Tears sprang to his eyes as he hung his head in shame.

He didn’t recognize himself either. Hadn’t for years.

Not since Cece left him.

He’d told himself that she just needed time. That they would find their way back to each other. Before she got into her car to start the drive back to Texas, he told her that he would be waiting if she changed her mind. They’d agreed to keep talking when she got home to see if they could fix it. But he still didn’t know how to tell her he was deploying in two months because that would mean telling her he’d known all along and kept it a secret.

Finally, the night before he left, Jake told her he’d been called up for a last-minute mission. Cece had been silent for a long time - what he’d taken for worry but now recognized as her seeing another lie - before telling him to be careful. She’d agreed to email him while he was gone, and their messages had been sporadic.

And then he saw the pictures of her with someone else once she was back in Austin, and his heart shattered. So, he focused on making himself move on. And the more he focused on making himself forget her, the more he became Hangman. His callsign, given to him not long after he got drunk in flight school and let it slip that he’d talked his childhood sweetheart into pushing back their marriage, haunted him daily. So, he leaned into the idea that he was unreliable. That he would put himself first. Because it hurt less to embrace the idea that he would leave his fellow pilots out to dry than the woman he loved. Hangman was cocky and didn’t give a shit what others thought of him.

Women didn’t look at him with expectation, and for a little while, that was freeing. The first time he’d slept with someone else, he’d groaned Cece’s name into her neck and had been rightly slapped. But as time went on, he was able to forget about her for a little while. He dated and tried not to compare the women to her.

Meeting Shayla had been an accident. He hadn’t known it then, but she’d gone to the Hard Deck intending to make a video about military guys. Jake had gone there, planning to have a beer or two before returning to his new house and unpacking. Word had come down while they were on the way back from the uranium mission that he was issued orders to relocate to North Island. Slowly, the other Daggers were notified of their new orders as well.

But that January night, Jake had been alone, toasting his new three-year contract. Lost in his thoughts about where he’d imagined himself being at this point in his career - married, with a kid or two - he hadn’t noticed Shayla until she was beside him. She’d startled him out of his thoughts by asking what was good there, and that was that. They’d ended the night with him teaching her to play darts and exchanging numbers.

Being with Shayla was easy in the beginning. She hadn’t expected too much of him, which was good as he settled into his new part-time instructing role. She was happy to fill his silence when he came home tired from work and unable to talk about what he did. When it came to dates, she was more than willing to plan where they went. And by the time he realized that the videos and pictures he thought she was taking for herself were being posted online, her followers had grown. When he asked her to stop, she’d pleaded with him to let her keep doing it - that she was trying to launch a career from it.

And, against his better judgment, he’d agree to keep her happy. Try as he might to ignore it, the filming got more intrusive, and he felt himself getting less comfortable being around her. Those rare moments that he could just be Jake with her were lost, as she wanted to show off her “cocky pilot boyfriend.”

For once, he welcomed the series of short deployments he was sent on, anticipating the change of scenery and time away. The only one he regretted was in late January when he woke to a call from Mama saying Mr. Ryan had passed. He wouldn’t be stateside in time for the funeral, as much as he would have moved heaven and earth to be there for Cece. But from across the globe, he struggled to pick up his phone and call her. Hearing Cece upset when there was nothing he could do was a certain kind of hell, especially when he couldn’t even hold her. When he was back, he debated asking for leave to go home but decided against it. Cece’s silence spoke volumes; the last thing she needed was him intruding in her grief. So, instead, he asked Mama to pass along that he was thinking of her whenever they talked. He’d opened a text to message her a few times but closed it every time, convincing himself that she’d changed her number.

Until one night, he’d opened it only to find three blinking dots. Heart in his throat, he’d watched it for nearly fifteen minutes before they disappeared for good.

Jake wasn’t sure what flipped in him that August morning when he’d gone to Cece’s profile and typed out his annual ‘Happy Birthday’ message. He found himself scrolling through her pictures far enough back to find ones of them together. Pausing on one from her graduation from UT, he couldn’t help but smile, remembering how nervous he’d been that weekend. Having been given leave at the last minute, he’d almost drained his bank account to get a red-eye flight Friday night to get to Austin in time to surprise her. While waiting for her to cross the stage and accept her diploma, Jake formally asked Mr. Ryan for permission to marry his daughter.

Sighing, the older man had nodded. “As long as you don’t ask her this weekend. Let this weekend be only about her.” The ring had been burning a hole in his pocket, but if that was the only thing Cece’s father asked of him, he could wait another week until his commissioning.

When he stored his phone in his locker and left for the carrier mess hall, Jake knew he had to end it with Shayla. As ready as he was to commit to someone and get his life back on track, he knew it wasn’t with her. He didn’t feel like he could relax around her - could never lower his guard in case her camera was rolling.

And then, as his brother accused him of doing, he thought with his dick on Halloween instead of his head. As much as he wanted to move on, Jake wouldn’t leave his kid behind. The night Shayla told him she was pregnant, he’d gotten drunk and tried to think of a way to convince her to give him the baby. She’d never mentioned wanting kids, and he would never keep them from her. But she made it clear that she and the baby were a package deal - if Jake wanted frequent access to his kid, Shayla wanted to get married. If not, she would get a lawyer involved and point out how much he was gone during their relationship to prove that he would be an inconsistent parent.

Hangman might leave his coworkers out to dry, even the love of his life, but he would never do that to his child.

So he’d agreed to marry her. But now, seeing how Shayla treated the people he loved, Jake knew it was time to set his stipulations. That started with respecting his family and apologizing for the drama she’d caused. It ended with a long engagement and time with a couple’s therapist before they married.

As he climbed the stairs, Jake knew that Shayla would again demand that he cut contact with Cece. And, as much as it hurt to imagine never seeing her again, Jake would agree to that. If he had to trade his past for his future, he would.

Julie smiled as Drew spun her, tugging gently to draw her back into his arms. Christmas music played as he leaned down to brush his lips to hers. Shaking off his hand, she stood on her toes to wrap her arms around his neck, tugging him down to kiss him again, smiling against his lips when he pulled her closer. His hands were warm on her hips, and she felt butterflies in her stomach. It’d been so long since anyone had held her like this.

Swaying as the song ended, Julie looked up in time to see Will Seresin grabbing his coat and standing, a wad of napkins soaking up spilled beer on his table. Their eyes met as he tugged on his jacket, and he gave her a strained smile before walking out of Mikey’s. “I think we pissed off your ex,” Drew said, chuckling softly.

“What?”

“He just stormed out.” Julie felt her stomach drop as she lowered her arms, looking around the bar to see people looking at her and whispering. A blush crept up her face as she forced her chin high while grabbing his hand and retreating to their table, knowing that a new chapter had been added to Magnolia’s ongoing Jake and Julie saga.

Which was stupid, she thought, dropping into her chair and taking a sip of her beer. They had ended things so long ago, and he was getting married and having a baby. She was single and had every right to kiss another man. It was no one else’s business - especially Jake’s. But if he’d just made a scene, she would be the one to have to deal with the fallout of it, just like she always did.

The gossip is what had driven her from Magnolia when she’d come home to lick her wounds after Virginia. Julie had naively thought people wouldn’t ask why she was home instead of living with her fiancé. Why she no longer wore the engagement ring on her left hand. But almost every time she stepped out of the house, someone remarked about it. Even running into Ally was hard - for as long as they’d known each other, the two women had expected to be sisters-in-law, but now they were nothing. Thankfully, the Seresins hadn’t turned their back on her and were supportive and happy to see her when she saw them in town. She knew that they, like Jake, were hoping that this was just a bump in the road on the way that led to them getting married.

But they hadn’t seen Jake in Virginia. They hadn’t seen him laughing with his buddies on the beach as her heart broke, listening to the spouses talk about the upcoming deployment. Hadn’t spent every single day waiting for him to come clean and tell her that he was leaving again. That she would be alone, away from her friends and family, in a place she wasn’t sure she liked for seven months. None of them crawled into bed alone and tried not to cry when he crept back in late at night.

After a month, it became too much. Daddy had come home from the firehouse to find her crying after being asked at the gas station why she was home when she should be with her fiancé, her former classmate pointedly glancing at her empty ring finger. “Julie, I want you to listen to me,” Daddy had said, holding her tightly as she sobbed. “You don’t owe anyone an explanation for why you’re back. I’m proud of you for standing up for yourself. If Jake didn’t realize how much he was asking of you without doing the minimum of being honest, he didn’t deserve you. You deserve to be the center of someone’s world, not an afterthought.”

Daddy helped her pay for an apartment in Austin for those first few months until she got back on her feet. She avoided returning to Magnolia for a long time and loved hosting her daddy in the city. Her friends encouraged her to go out, and Julie found herself exploring and enjoying herself in a way she hadn’t for the almost six years she’d lived there. Once Jake had deployed and their communication was limited to emails, it felt almost like a weight had been lifted from her shoulders. She no longer had to listen to him mumble a soft “I love you, baby, I miss you” as they ended the call or his offers to buy a plane ticket so she could come to visit him.

Hesitantly, she’d dipped her toe in the dating pool. Her friends set her up with guys or gently nudged her toward someone when they would go out dancing. And, at first, it felt wrong. The first time she slept with someone else, she’d gone home and cried in the shower. As much as she tried to enjoy the feeling of someone else’s touch, she couldn’t stop comparing it to Jake’s. It ended with that guy shortly after, and Julie decided she would only casually date.

That night in Austin had proven just how little the Jake Seresin-sized hole in her heart had healed when he’d crashed into her life again, tearing down her defenses like tissue paper. For a moment, as he held her while dancing, she’d let herself imagine what would happen if she took him home. Maybe they’d just needed two years apart to experience life before finding one another again. She’d missed his touch, his laugh, and how safe she felt in his arms. But the pregnancy scare had reminded her how much his arms held her back.

And then, the first time she went back to Magnolia, she ran into Jake. The chance run-in had made the whispers start up again, and Julie cut her trip home short. She knew it hurt Daddy, but he understood when she left the day after Christmas rather than staying for another week.

So, seeing people look at her and whisper in the aftermath of Jake making a scene made Julie want to leave. The longer she sat there, the more she gave them to talk about. As if seeing the hesitancy in her eyes that could no longer meet his, Drew cleared his throat. “You alright, Jules?”

Taking a deep breath, Julie straightened her spine and swiped at the condensation on her beer. “I’m fine. Just… Do you ever feel like you’ve outgrown a place?”

The corner of Drew’s mouth lifted before he sipped his beer.

Jake paused outside Shayla’s door and took a deep breath before knocking. When she called for him to come in, he opened the door to see her sitting cross-legged on the bed. “Hey.”

“Oh. You’re back,” she huffed, rolling her eyes. Sighing, Jake crossed the room to sit beside her, waiting for her to take her eyes off the computer screen. “What?” she finally demanded.

“I want to talk.”

“I’m working.”

“Shayla.”

“Jacob.”

“Please.” Breathing out heavily, she scowled at him.

“Are you going to yell at me again?” Sighing, he scrubbed a hand down his face.

“No. I’m sorry for raising my voice earlier.” Sniffing, she set aside her computer and stood.

“Fine. I’ll be right back.” With a groan, Jake fell back onto the bed, putting a hand over his eyes. She did this whenever he tried to confront her with something - he would say they needed to talk, and she would make him wait at least five minutes before doing it. He recognized it as some way to make sure that they did it on her terms, and it annoyed the hell out of him.

Her computer chimed with a text somewhere around the two-minute mark. Jake glanced at it instinctually - the screen was angled toward him but partially closed. He’d closed his eyes when two words registered: rainbow baby.

Without thinking, he reached out to swipe the mousepad to keep the computer from going into sleep mode as the screen darkened again. Once Shayla’s video editing software was minimized, he saw the text thread with her best friend, and his blood ran cold at her last message.

Yessssss! Then you can say you have a rainbow baby and get so much more interaction 🌈 🤰

Jake felt his stomach drop as tears sprang to his eyes. Shayla had miscarried and hadn’t told him.

But then the second text appeared.

Gotta have him fuck you, though. Can’t fake a test if he doesn’t touch you

Sitting up, he grabbed the computer and scrolled further up to read their chat. And felt the sickening combination of grief and relief.

Fuck you. We just need to get home and away from this hick town. Once I have my Jakey back, it’ll be fine

The message popped up, and he couldn’t help the watery chuckle that escaped. Apparently, Shayla had her phone with her and was responding. The usual flash of irritation at being called Jakey was smothered under the tidal wave of emotion.

And there it was.

Quickly, he took screenshots of the chat and sent them to himself, downloading them onto his phone. He felt sick as he looked at the texts again.

“What are you doing?” Shayla asked, standing in the doorway. Her eyes darted from the computer in his lap to his pale face. Closing the laptop, he stood.

“Was it ever real?”

“Was what real?” At his blank look, she took a step forward. Moving to keep the bed between them, Jake glanced at her stomach. “W-what do you mean, Jakey?” she asked, putting a hand on her flat stomach.

“Don’t lie to me.” The words were hissed through clenched teeth as Jake’s hands fisted. It made horrible sense.

“I’m not!”

Not once had he seen her sick in the morning.

“I swear!”

Her refusal to let him go to the doctor with her.

“Jake, stop being an idiot,” she stomped, tears glistening in her eyes.

Her constantly trying to sleep with him before they left California, even when he said no.

“Were you ever pregnant?” he demanded. Her eyes darted from the computer back to him before she wrapped her arms around her middle.

“I-I miscarried a-and didn’t know how to t-tell you!”

Lifting his phone, he pulled up one of the screenshots and read it. “Maybe he’ll actually knock you up this time, so you don’t have to pretend.”

The blood drained from Shayla’s face, the phone falling from her limp fingers. “J-Jake…”

“Were you. Ever. Pregnant?”

“Yes!” A cruel laugh burst from him, and Jake spun on his heel, gripping his hair.

“Who are you lying to, Shayla? Me or your best fucking friend?!” The texts were seared into the back of his eyes when they closed.

You can probably buy a fake test

Did you see the views on the last video????????!!!! Wait until we do the official pregnancy reveal!!! I’ll talk him into doing a cute one

Fuck, he passed out before we had sex. Fucking drunk asshole

It’s too late to say you’re still pregnant. Tell him you miscarried???? He won’t leave you if he thinks that

“I’m not lying! Baby - ” Her hand landed on his shoulder, and he jerked away from her.

“Don’t fucking touch me,” he snapped. Running a shaking hand over his mouth, Jake quickly brushed away the tears on his cheeks.

There was never a baby.

He was never going to be a father.

He’d almost married a woman he didn’t love.

“Jake, please, just - ”

“I don’t want to hear it, you fucking lying bi - ”

“What’s going on in here?” Mama demanded, tucking her robe close to her body. Her eyes darted from Jake to Shayla, taking in the tears on both their faces. Behind her, Pops frowned.

“Noth - ”

“Don’t fucking talk to them,” Jake yelled. “I can’t BELIEVE I brought you here and made excuses for you being a - ”

“Jacob Thomas,” Pops cut him off. “What the hell is going on.” Ignoring his father, Jake leveled his gaze on a trembling Shayla.

“Jakey, I - ” When she reached up to cup his face, he caught her hands, a disgusted smile crossing his mouth when his eyes landed on the ring he’d put on her finger.

It was all a lie.

Dropping her right hand, he held her left and quickly tugged the gaudy thing from her finger before letting go of her and taking a step back. “I want you out of here tonight. Take the rental and get the fuck out. I don’t ever want to hear from you again, you manipulative, psychotic - ”

“Jacob!” His watery eyes rose to see his parents' worried expressions. “Son, what - ”

“Looks like you’re only having one grandkid,” he said softly, shoving the engagement ring into his pocket and taking another step away from Shayla. She reached for him, her nails raking his arm as he walked past her.

“Jakey!”

“What?” Mama asked, eyes widening in shock.

“I’m sorry,” Jake said quickly, kissing his mama’s head before pushing past her and stomping down the stairs.

He could hear his parents calling for him and Shayla crying as he put on his boots and hung the rental keys on the peg, swapping them for his mama’s truck keys.

Slamming the door behind him, he hurried down the steps, breath misting before him. The gravel crunched under the tires as he sped off, windshield wipers doing their best against the snow as he let himself cry.

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Author's Note: Another huge thank you to @mamachasesmayhem for helping me tread the line with this chapter, and making sure that Jake's anger came off as realistic without going overboard.

Now we know why Julie has been so guarded with Jake - she's always the one dealing with the fall out in Magnolia. And, as much as Jake loved her, he was holding her back. Kudos to Mr. Ryan for wanting just one weekend for the attention to only be on his daughter's accomplishments.

Aaaaand Shayla. I'm really happy that people picked up on her not being pregnant 🫣 There's still a lot of drama to come, so buckle up!

Read Chapter 6

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#top gun fic #top gun maverick #jake seresin #Hangman top gun #soft!Jake Seresin #hangman fic #jake hangman seresin #jake seresin x oc #hangman x oc #'tis the damn season fic

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romance-rambles · 1 month

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concept: in an alternate universe where the three princes arrive in rhodolite after emma leaves, five years after chevalier's coronation, silvio ricci—"mr. secretly a caring brother"—decides to take a stroll around the capital to clear his mind.

he's been trying to find valerio for ages, and he'd briefly thought that maybe his brother is still in rhodolite, but for whatever reason, he can't seem to get any leads. after making the questionable decision to drink, he ends up wandering into the bustling markets of the city.

a pair of brothers catches his gaze. the older one is buying the younger one a treat—and really, they can't be too old. silvio has had little interaction with kids, but he'd guess them to be around the early teens. and it makes him think of how he was never able to do anything like that for valerio.

naturally, in the middle of cursing his brother out, he happens to hear a vaguely familiar voice professing his love for some woman named emma. he has to rub his eyes to make sure he's seeing things right and—

yup, blonde hair, blue eyes. an earring. the face of a man he loathes, though not as much as his mother.

and in front of his kneeling self—

a clearly pregnant woman who looks on, with amusement glittering in her brown eyes as she gracefully accepts the offered rose. silvio thinks he might be going insane.

"emma" then proceeds to pull him up and the lady selling flowers giggles about how wonderful it is that they're so in love. the guy from the stall next door hollers about how, since it's rio, it's to be expected.

they leave and silvio does not follow them.

what silvio does do is go back to his room in the castle and punch the wall, unable to figure out how he should feel about the fact that valerio is married with a kid on the way. one thing's for sure though:

emidio must not know.

so, silvio packs up and leaves for benitoite, and in about two years, even those in rhodolite whisper about how the second prince attempted to commit treason—and admitted, in a fit of rage, that he was the one who sent valerio to die.

(for this, the king begrudgingly thanks silvio and offers to make him king. but silvio pretends he hasn't already found valerio and vows to find him.)

then, silvio returns to rhodolite.

and finds out that the child valerio's wife was carrying was their second child, after a brat who happens to be the splitting image of valerio overhears asking about "rio" and "emma".

this kid is nothing less than a blabbermouth. within thirty minutes, silvio's aware of his history and "rio"'s too. he knows that valerio's second born is a girl, that he's disappointed that neither of his two children look like his wife, and that they'll probably not stop at two kids. he knows that the kid's name is elliott, that he's named to match the first letter of his mom's name—it's the same for his sister, who is named rhys, after his dad.

and yet, despite the fact that being armed with this seemingly useless knowledge comorts him, he's too much of a coward to try and approach valerio. after all, emidio's dead. valerio seems happier than he ever was in the benitoite's court. isn't it selfish to drag valerio back solely for silvio's pride?

(a part of him is also jealous of elliot's long list of uncles, who he suspects to be rhodolite's princes—most frequent are nokto, yves, leon, clavis, and luke. sometimes, jin and licht. chevalier, surprisingly, does ask after him and rhys, but never visits. sariel keeps tabs on them, just in case)

so he runs before his sister-in-law arrives to take elliot home.

and rinse and repeat. days bleed into weeks and he's not keen about letting them bleed into months, even if he views elliott as a "second chance."

but he doesn't have to.

valerio comes to him.

apparently, he's seen silvio hanging around his son. his wife is delighted that elliott's made a friend, even if he is older than she'd hoped for, and also a bit concerned about silvio's identity, so she wanted to invite him to dinner.

unfortunately, elliott told rio about how silvio once told him to cherish and protect his sister. he said that he couldn't protect his brother from getting hurt, and that he hopes valerio is happy.

the names are what tipped rio off.

there was other identifying information too, but rio already had his memories. the names were all he needed.

you see, he'd started having an inkling of his identity when emma was belle. he'd been pouring over some texts about benitoite and he thought some of it felt strangely familiar. but he kept those thoughts hidden because he was afraid of letting emma know. it was when emidio was arrested that his memoried fully started coming back.

[we now take a brief intermission to talk about how rio married the love of his life:

emma, whilst fretting over her uncontrollable feelings, is looking at the "engagement ring". rio comes in, and for a moment, they simply stare at each other.

then rio correctly guesses that this is something he had on him before. emma confides in him that she thinks it's an engagement ring, which causes rio to realize why she would push him away.

he tells her that he has no interest in returning home. he wanted to die, after all. it's likely nothing was waiting for him. and, if it is an engagement ring, he probably bought it because he knew he'd be meeting the love of his life soon (this makes her hit him on the shoulder). rio thinks he likely wasn't engaged at all.

this causes emma to decide that she wants to be selfish, even if it means living with that kind of guilt.

the rest is history.]

rio: "i really don't want you to meet emma...what if you fall in love with her? she's so pretty, i can see it happening."

silvio: "huh? why would—"

rio: "...but i need someone to testify that i wasn't engaged before i lost my memories. i didn't have a lover either. my wife's been holding onto this misconception, so i want to clear it up immediately."

silvio takes it for the olive branch it is. everyone and their grandmothers know that he's been searching for valerio. it's really no surprise that rio would realize his intentions.

the next night, he joins rio and his family for dinner. silvio brings flowers for emma and gifts for each of the munchkins, and for rio, he shoves a bottle of wine at him. his reddened ears don't have the luxury of returning to normal because elliott starts pointing out how his ears are super red. they have an enjoyable dinner, after which emma reintroduces herself as his sister-in-law and they confirm that they'll hold off on telling elliott, like silvio wants them to.

silvio is a coward though, so he tells elliott on literally the last day of his stay in rhodolite. elliott makes him promise to come back soon, and rio and emma, who are there to pick elliott up, reveal that they might go visit silvio instead.

[this is because someone manages to spill silvio's secret to the king. which means rio would need to establish himself to better protect his family.]

#headcanons by aya #ricci brothers #silvio ricci #ikepri silvio #ikemen prince silvio #rio ortiz #ikepri rio #ikemen prince rio #ikepri emma #ikepri #ikemen prince #ikepri headcanons #listen...i'm in love with their relationship #in his own route and even rio's he's surprisingly ride or die for his brother #now imagine what could be if they didn't have such a terrible first meeting #and emidio is dead and silvio's had time to sort out his feelings #i'm a simple woman: i just want au emma/rio and silvio being a good grumpy uncle #cybird...please give me more rio & silvio content

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the-haikyuu-trash · 2 years

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m. osamu || tranquillity

summary : in which (Name) throw curses at Osamu Miya for being the reason she’s in pain.

tags : pregnancy labor, (name) pushing out the baby, soft fluff, mentions of sex, cursing and crying, (name) being an absolute menace

a/n: don’t ask me why i created this, idk why, i dont have baby fever ok i just find it hilarious on tiktok when the wives are saying the most out of pocket words when delivering a baby 😭 anyways quick one shot because I haven’t written anything

Fat tears were strolling down (Name)’s cheeks and nothing hurts more for Osamu Miya to know he’s the reason for her pain.

“You did this to me!” (Name) screamed in pain, her hand curling around Osamu’s large one, trying to comfort his wife in labor, ignoring her iron grip that could tear out his hand away from his body, trying hard to supress the pain appearing in his features because (Name)’s obviously having it worse. Yes, she’s pushing that baby with all her might, trying not to dissapoint the doctors who’s helping her trying to get her baby out of her.

“You’re doing amazing, my love.” Osamu whispered, eyes looking at his wife’s feature, even she looks like a messy teenager who got her first heartbreak in seventh grade, she’s still so breathtaking especially she’s the one who carried his kids. Alas, even with words of encouragement, he married a dragon.

“Fuck you, Osamu! We’re never having sex again!” Another whimpered was dragged out to her lips, more fresh tears coming out. “Oh my God, this baby better be cute!”

“I can see the hair—!” The nurse exclaimed but (Name) was quick to retort. “I don’t care! Get her out, I don’t think I can do this anymore—“ another scream of pain shot out through the room. Yes, that’s the woman he married that he can’t help but smile at her lovingly, he wonders if their baby would look like him or her, but he hopes the baby would look like her mother, (Name)’s beauty is a timeless one that he wants their baby to have one, she could get his personality and torment her uncle Atsumu, that would be quite a sight. “Osamu, holy shit you better make me food after all this.”

“We’re about to meet our baby! Few more push, love, you can do it.”

Soon, a small cry could be heard and (Name) slumped down on the bed, exhaustion finally taking over her body. “I’m so proud of you.” Osamu said, his lips pressing her knuckles and (Name) finally calmed down, a tired but small smile graced her lips when she spotted the nurse placing the baby between her chest, she feels so small.

A peaceful feeling bloomed on his chest, seeing his daughter and wife, his family completed, he couldn’t help but fall in love again and harder for Miya (Name) who made his dreams come true, and he promised— all of her hardwork, he will make it up for them. His eyes searched for hers and she looked back at his grey ones with the familliar warmth and love, her hand never letting go of his.

“Look at her, she’s so beautiful.” Osamu whispers and (Name) hummed, eyelids growing heavy. “And heavy too, must got it from you.”

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yallemagne · 11 months

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Luthur (Lucy/Arthur) Propaganda

I'm writing this with all the pent-up rage of an entire year of seeing "Lucy's so dumb, she should have picked my favourite suitor" posts and "who should Lucy have chosen?" polls that always result in practically no votes for Arthur.

This is not an anti-Jack or anti-Quincey post by any means, though it may come across as defensive. It is just a pro-let-Lucy-choose-for-herself post. And yes, letting her choose for herself even includes letting her be monogamous when she has made the conscious decision to remain monogamous.

So, to the proposal descriptions--

Seward tries to hide his anxiety by putting up a front of sternness. From how Lucy describes it, it sounds like he's negotiating a contract:

He spoke to me, Mina, very straightforwardly. He told me how dear I was to him, though he had known me so little, and what his life would be with me to help and cheer him. He was going to tell me how unhappy he would be if I did not care for him, but when he saw me cry he said that he was a brute and would not add to my present trouble. Then he broke off and asked if I could love him in time; and when I shook my head his hands trembled, and then with some hesitation he asked me if I cared already for any one else. He put it very nicely, saying that he did not want to wring my confidence from me, but only to know, because if a woman's heart was free a man might have hope. And then, Mina, I felt a sort of duty to tell him that there was some one. I only told him that much, and then he stood up, and he looked very strong and very grave as he took both my hands in his and said he hoped I would be happy, and that if I ever wanted a friend I must count him one of my best.

Sounds like he hardly popped the question so much as stated: "I would be honoured to have you (I need you I need you I need you I need you) as my wife. If you don't love me back, I will die."

This proposal comes across as very neurodivergent to me. He goes into it thinking mostly about what he wants from Lucy and how good the marriage would be for his mental health, not stopping to consider if she's already seeing someone (literally the man who introduced them) or just maybe... that he's putting too much of a burden on her with this style of proposal. This approach would work better with another no-nonsense B, but Lucy is overwhelmed. He didn't think of her feelings in the matter because he was too busy schooling his own emotions so he wouldn't screw it all up. It comes across as very scripted until he sees that he's upset Lucy-- that is when we get a glimpse of his care for her. But then he's back to his bullet points of "but could you love me one day? do you love another now? on a scale from one to ten, how would you rate this interaction?"

Lucy gets through Seward's entire proposal without getting carried away and writing about Arthur instead, but with Quincey--

I suppose that we women are such cowards that we think a man will save us from fears, and we marry him. I know now what I would do if I were a man and wanted to make a girl love me. No, I don't, for there was Mr. Morris telling us his stories, and Arthur never told any, and yet—— My dear, I am somewhat previous.

She certainly finds Quincey charming, but she cuts herself off to talk about Arthur. While she momentarily thinks that telling adventurous tales would win a woman's heart, she says that it didn't win her own. There's a sort of peacocking going on with Quincey prefacing his proposal with tales of his adventures. It's very much like Seward's stoic attempt but with far more confidence and pizzazz.

Mr. Quincey P. Morris found me alone. It seems that a man always does find a girl alone. No, he doesn't, for Arthur tried twice to make a chance, and I helping him all I could; I am not ashamed to say it now.

Quincey "found [her] alone". Now, before, she said "Mr. Morris was telling us his stories"-- who is us? I am guessing that perhaps Lucy's mother or someone else was sitting in as a chaperone? And then Quincey found an opportunity to talk to her in private?

Again, she drifts off talking about Arthur while she's trying to explain Quincey. "Arthur tried twice to make a chance"-- my best guess for what this means is that Arthur has tried to have un-chaperoned time with Lucy twice before in order to propose to her, but he never succeeded despite her attempts to aid him.

Which makes this all so much funnier? Some joke that the Suitors probably arranged it all, but this hints that Arthur has been trying his damndest to propose, but the one day he actually gets a chance to, he finds out his two friends proposed to her first! Those dogs!!

I do not know myself if I shall ever speak slang; I do not know if Arthur likes it, as I have never heard him use any as yet.

Lucy interrupts her "haha the silly American talks silly American gibberish" with "would Arthur like it if I spoke this way?" Gah, she's so in love with him. It's funny that she says she's never heard him use slang considering she's already mentioned "Dress is a bore." which she even called slang.

Well, he did look so good-humoured and so jolly that it didn't seem half so hard to refuse him as it did poor Dr. Seward; so I said, as lightly as I could, that I did not know anything of hitching, and that I wasn't broken to harness at all yet. Then he said that he had spoken in a light manner, and he hoped that if he had made a mistake in doing so on so grave, so momentous, an occasion for him, I would forgive him. [...] And then, my dear, before I could say a word he began pouring out a perfect torrent of love-making, laying his very heart and soul at my feet. He looked so earnest over it that I shall never again think that a man must be playful always, and never earnest, because he is merry at times. I suppose he saw something in my face which checked him, for he suddenly stopped, and said with a sort of manly fervour that I could have loved him for if I had been free...

She remarks that Quincey's more light-hearted nature makes him easier to refuse than Seward. However, she finds it harder to reject him when he drops the act and starts behaving more earnestly. She finds it easier to imagine loving him when he's being sincere. She doesn't have this same thought with Seward because, unfortunately, even when he snapped out of his legal negotiation of the potential marriage, he still kept himself emotionally guarded through the rest of the interaction.

Why can't they let a girl marry three men, or as many as want her, and save all this trouble? But this is heresy, and I must not say it.

I must say... Lucy here is not saying "I want a harem of men.". Stop. Just stop saying that she is. That interpretation has led to every single adaptation that brands her an insincere cheater who strings along men and deserves to be punished by the narrative. Just stop. What she is expressing here is guilt at not having an option that would please all parties involved. She's been raised as a people-pleaser, but in this scenario, there is no choice she could make that wouldn't lead to someone being hurt. So, she makes the decision to follow her heart rather than her guilty conscience.

And think, just earlier, Jack planted this seed of insecurity by saying that he'll be upset if she does not love him. And then goes even further to imply her loving another robs him of his hope. It makes it so that, even when Quincey is more gracious in accepting her refusal, she can't help but beat herself up for practically destroying these men's lives (hyperbole, of course) all for her own happiness!!

Lucy clearly displays polyamorous traits. She laments that, if she did not love Arthur so much, she could love Quincey (rip Seward). But she has chosen not to explore those feelings. Part of her cutting herself off while writing about Quincey to talk about Arthur could be subconsciously reminding herself: "nope, there is no chance with him, I want Arthur". She compares the two constantly as if to remind herself she made the right choice. There's also her love for Mina, but she has plausible deniability in this era and can claim that as just classic girl love.

But when she considers a woman marrying "as many men as want her" it is not reflective of her being polyamorous because she doesn't have this thought out of "I love these three men enough to marry them" but "I feel guilty about being loved by three men at once, and I have to repay the favour somehow, but I can't". She does not say "as many men as she wants" because it's not about the woman's feelings but about the feelings of the men that surround her. But you know what? She showed agency when she picked the man she wanted and didn't bow and pick the man who would be the most devastated upon being rejected, and I'm proud of her.

Lucy is incredibly brief when describing Arthur's proposal, but let's. just. think about this. Previously, she has tried to hold back her overwhelming love for Arthur in her writing to Mina (she failed, lol). Other than wanting to be discreet, she explains:

My dear, this quite upset me, and I feel I cannot write of happiness just at once, after telling you of it; and I don't wish to tell of the number three until it can be all happy.

She doesn't want to taint her happy feelings with bitterness about how "oh, I'm so horrible and selfish for picking the man I love! I don't deserve to be loved by anyone!" And even then, she goes into a bit more detail in her post-script:

P.S.—Oh, about number Three—I needn't tell you of number Three, need I? Besides, it was all so confused; it seemed only a moment from his coming into the room till both his arms were round me, and he was kissing me. I am very, very happy, and I don't know what I have done to deserve it. I must only try in the future to show that I am not ungrateful to God for all His goodness to me in sending to me such a lover, such a husband, and such a friend.

Such a friend. Before this, Seward and Quincey were not friends of Lucy's. They were acquaintances that knew her through Arthur (though she does not explicitly state this about Quincey, so she could have met him somewhere else?), and upon being rejected romantically, they swore friendship to her. Before then, they saw her as a potential bride.

But Arthur was already a friend to Lucy. They have been close for longer than she's known either of her other suitors, and while they'd never said the L-word (love) to each other before, I think what wins Lucy's heart is that Arthur is genuine with her. We don't get to see it (she teases us!! how dare!!), but that feels like the most plausible thing that would set him apart from Seward and Quincey. Now, the other two are honest men (we see it when they comfort her), but they both initially put up a front to impress/entertain Lucy. Meanwhile, Arthur doesn't bother with that. He comes into the room, and she's practically already in his arms! It's so effortless with him. She doesn't have to imagine herself being happy and in love with him because she already is.

#dracula #dracula daily #re: dracula #lucy westenra #john seward #jack seward #quincey p morris #quincey morris #lucy x arthur #arthur x lucy #luthur #may 24 #wrote this like a few nights ago lol #just had to

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themultifandomgal · 6 months

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Tommy Shelby- Out Of The Blue Pt2

Pt1 Pt3

Weeks pass by and Tommys teasing about YNs fiancé don't let up. In fact the more trips he took to London the more Tommys words stuck in her mind 'he obviously has a whore'. Doubt sets in her mind, was he actually away on business or was he with another woman?

Walking into the betting shop YN puts her bag down and pulls her coat of placing on the chair behind her desk. Tommy immediately walks out of his office

"YN I nee you to go to the garrison. Tell Harry I have a meeting there tonight 6:30"

"I've just walked in" YN groans

"Don't care" Tommy walks back into his office. YN puts her coat back on muttering about how Tommy actually hates her and does all of this on purpose.

When arriving at the garrison she hears a woman asking for her fiancé

"Excuse me but do you know where I might find Mr Alexander?" she asks Harry

"Why are you looking for my fiancé?" YN asks frowning

"Oh hello I'm his wife"

"Wife?!" YN shouts "don't you mean ex wife?"

"No. I'm his wife you must be YN YLN?"

"Yes. How do you know my name?"

"Well you didn't really think my George actually loves you right? Your in with the Shelby's am I not correct?"

"Your just some crazy ex girlfriend or ex wife who is trying to scare me off. Harry Tommy said he has a meeting tonight" YN turns around and leaves the Garrison and begins to make her way back to the betting shop.

That evening YN arrives home. She can hear George's voice, but he's not alone there's someone else here

"You can't just show up here. You could ruin everything!" George shouts. Not taking of her coat, frowning YN gently closes the front door and quietly makes her way to her shared bedroom where the voices are coming from

"You've been at this for over a year now. I thought you would have made your move by now"

"Are you jealous?"

"Of her? No, but do I like the idea of my husband warming another woman's bed even if he is just trying to get to the Shelby's? Yes of course it bothers me" YN feels like she's going to be sick hearing this

"Fine. I'll do it tonight. Tonight is the night I kill Thomas Shelby" a lump forms in YNs throat and her feet are immediately carrying her towards the Shelby's residence.

Knocking on the door Polly answers

"What are you...."

"Where's Tommy?" YN frantically asks

"At the garrison having his meeting"

"Shit"

"What's going on?"

"My fiancé is married and is only using me to kill Tommy and probably all of you"

"Did you know!" Polly shouts

"I wouldn't be stood here panicking if I knew Polly. Look I have to go warn him"

YN has never run so fast in her life. Arriving at the Garrison she doesn't care that Tommy is in the middle of a meeting. She bursts through the door panting

"YN what the fuck are you doing?"

"I'm so sorry Tommy I didn't know"

"Didn't know what?"

"YN what's wrong?" Johns soothing voice says

"It's George"

"What the fuck has he done?" John shouts anger laced in his voice "has he hurt you?"

"We'll fucking kill 'im" Arthur yells

"YN what is going on?" Tommy asks

"George. He's already married. He's been using me. He's coming to kill you all"

"Why are you only just telling us? Are you involved?" Tommy stands

"What no of course not. I just found out"

"John take YN home, Arthur..."

"No!" YN shouts "I can't go home. That's where they are"

"Fine. Stay here. John let's go"

It's been 30 minutes since the Shelby's left. YN sits at the bar waiting for them to return. Every time she hears the door of the Garrison open she looks hoping that her best friend and his brothers are walking in. But her heart drops every time, so by now she's given up looking at the door and just focus's on her drink in hand. Suddenly she jumps hearing what sounds like a gun shot going off. Looking up she sees him there, George. If he's here then where are the Shelby's?

"Tommy Shelby!" he shouts. So he doesn't know they went after him "where the fuck is he?

George points the gun at me "YN where is he?"

"I... I don't know"

"Fuck. You weren't meant to be here" YN frown getting off her chair

"Why? So you could kill the Shelby's then leave with their money to go back to your wife?"

"How do you..."

"Know? Because I walked into our house and heard everything"

"Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!" he shouts "this wasn't supposed to happen like this. This is your fucking fault" that's when YN feels a burning sensation in her abdomen and heard a ringing in her ears.

#peaky blinders #peaky blinders imagine #peaky blinders reader #tommy shelby #tommy shelby x y/n #tommy shelby daughter

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swordsandarms · 9 months

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This is a reply in regards to this post, which highlights the high likelihood that, whether people are fine with the author's choices or not, RxL is written by him with romantic nuance as far as the text goes. @sahtinekryze

And I think this fandom really needs to have a honest analysis of the idea of "selfishness" in narrative choices such as this, which is that when it comes to how the whole "duty vs love" scenarios Martin writes, he does not actually writes it with some wide spectrum ranging from selfish to sacrificial. There are usually no other choices than the two.

Could one define the alleged choice of breaking a noble marriage contract that would have negative political influence at the least, had it been the best case scenario (which one would logically assume the two might have hoped for instead of very lots of people dying including themselves) as 'selfish', which in its very definition is doing something for one's self, though it may not be advantageous for others? Yes.

But as I said, Martin doesn't write a middle ground. There's that, or Lyanna marries an unwanted man and is hence forced to have a non-consensual relationship with him, and forced to carry children out of a noncon relationship, so that her male relatives can reap benefits of political power, as well as her groom through her womb. And as shows inspired by these books love to show us very graphic such cases (like Daenerys in GOT, or the storyline given to show!Sansa, or the changes for show!Alicent in HOTD), I am sure fans should have learnt better about the accusations usually thrown at Lyanna in fandom spaces in regards to being another woman marrying against her will in a society where a woman cannot say no, marital rape isn't recognised, and a husband is "just taking his rights": that "this is just being whiny". (There are many other examples in the books; the author is also not holding back on what unwanted or unsuitable marriages mean to women.)

Against the fanon idea that she is some wild, demanding, conceited girl, she doesn't rage, she doesn't bite. She has a tentative, soft spoken conversation with her brother about it and her reluctance in the matter, and is (nicely) dismissed.

Had she not (allegedly, while all is unconfirmed) fallen for the Crown Prince and he for her, there is no one else powerful enough to extract her from her situation (her male relatives having made up their own minds in the matter), nor anyone else to go from where she cannot be recovered by a powerful and connected family and fiance. No one else she could marry/sleep with that wouldn't be shut down and covered (as seen with Tyrion or Lysa) to preserve the higher price for which her womb can be bartered. Just no other viable choice that wasn't the other end of the scale: a woman being sacrificed by men, for men's uses.

As I said at the start, this is simply how Martin writes these conflicts of "mind and heart". He corners the characters. There is no light at the end of the tunnel that isn't also sort of "selfish" and "dumb" looking on the surface.

This can be applied to more such situations in the text-

Catelyn undoes the already precarious state of her son's campaign by releasing their most valuable captive. She has not even a guarantee that her 'selfish' act for love will work. But there are no options she's given. No one else cares to make it a priority to get her daughters back. The only other choice is to let it be and let 2 girls be sacrificed in marriages of ill intent to use their wombs and discard them, unsure if she will find anything left of them but Lannister named babies when this is over. It is "selfish". It is "dumb". Yet she's cornered.

Jon makes the decision to go fight Ramsay Bolton because he's run out of options and he's cornered. Arya is allegedly in the hands of the family that have viciously killed a number of Starks and taken Winterfell. She is 11 and allegedly married. He is made sick at the thought of what is being done to her. He's tried the "lesser" tactics of getting her rescued without being seen as trespassing the status quo of the NW publicly, by sending others for her. But it was always going to come to this. Ramsay guesses (or finds out) that his escaped bride would make it to the Wall. Keeping "peace" and "doing his duty" instead of "being selfish and dumb" is handing over "Arya" himself if she even makes it to appease the Lord of Winterfell, sacrificing a girl to an unwanted marriage meant to use her for her womb and discard her.

There are no actual choices when there is no actual scale in between "selfish and dumb" and the sacrifice of a girl (or, you know, 2,3, as many as Westeros would swallow as it did for millennia for this or that Lord or King to amass and keep power), whether they are Lannisters trying to get Winterfell, or Starks extinguishing the line of the Warg King.

#asoiaf #rhaegar targaryen #lyanna stark #arya stark #jon snow #catelyn stark

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sleepywitchlory · 6 months

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What would have happened if…

… Sebastian never casted Imperio on that goblin?

A nightly thought of myself and my headcanon:

If Sebastian had never cast Imperio on that goblin who was attacking Anne, I’m pretty sure she would have died OR been badly injured.

If this were the case, I’m sure she would have died anyway, the curse taking her even weaker and injured body over; killing her after some time.

Not able to take Anne to the catacombs, Sebastian could never use the relic.

Loosing his sister would push him into a deep, dark hole, where he finds himself lost and trapped. Blaming himself for not being able to protect his sister. He would cry every night, never laugh again, and barely show up at Hogwarts during that time. Solomon, who’s heartbroken and worries about Sebastian, might reach out to Ominis and MC, hoping that they can fix things.

Ominis and MC, both also mourning their loss of Anne, are shocked to see Sebastian’s state. They would take care of him, especially MC. She/He would take care that Sebastian would come back to his former self and fight him back to life.

MC would ask him to get himself together and return to Hogwarts. MCs words would include: "Sebastian, please. If not for me, then for Anne. Don’t let her die completely. She would urge you to return. You know I’m right“.

Eventually, he will return to his last year at Hogwarts. Would try a new beginning. Eventually, he would slowly realize his love for a girl/F!MC/M!MC, asking them out for the Yule ball and confessing one day.

He would get married and start his own family (No matter if he's with his wife or, if he’s with M!MC or Ominis, let’s make it clear - it would be totally fine, no matter if it’s not „well seen“ in this timeline).

His first child would be a boy, looking like the mother. The second one would be another boy. The third pregnancy/adoption would be twins. One boy and one girl. The girl would be called Anne. Hearing his wife’s/husbands wish to name her after his sister made him cry again. One night, holding his baby girl, he would look out of the window, tell his daughter about his sister - a strong and brave woman he couldn’t protect. But that he will do it better this time.

And eventually a bright star would shine more intensely at that moment as he spoke out that promise, like Anne did hear him and tell him that she’s his opinion; that she’s proud.

Sebastian would make peace with Solomon, inviting him over each second weekend, asking him for advice on raising children, and telling him about his fears of being a bad father. And Solomon would support him. "You're just as your father was - stubborn but loving. You carry much of him in you... becoming more and more like him. He and your mother would be proud, just as I am, Sebastian".

Sebastian would have had a hard time, but thanks to his friends and the love of his life, he returned to a healthy life and a happy family. He would become a healer or curse breaker in hope to help others who needs help - to be better than the healers and curse breakers when he needed them for Anne.

If he never casts Imperio...

._._._._._._._._._.

Well, now I’m crying myself to sleep 🌹

Thought about the Imperio scene a long time and this is my personal headcanon. I will also try to write a one shot about this but since I’m sick this has to wait a bit longer 😂 still, I didn’t want to forget a thing so I quickly wrote it down 🙆🏻‍♀️

#sebastian sallow #hogwartslegacy #slytherin #Imperio #unforgivable curses #Hogwarts Legacy Sebastian sallow #Sebastian sallow x mc #sebastian sallow x Ominis gaunt #ominis gaunt #wizardingworld #hogwarts legacy headcanons

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thewritetofreespeech · 7 months

Note

Yaaayy requests are open !!

Can you write azashiro souya x fem!wife Reader . Azashiro is in reader mansion because she is the head of shihouin Clan.

He hates being here. Despite the vastness of its walls, he found the Shihōin estate stifling. As if with each breath those vast walls just came a little closer and closer, until they would eventually swallow him.

Urozakuro rattled at his side in her sheath. Azashiro’s hand had to come and stay her hilt to make her stop.

“Soya?” The captain turned his head to look at [Y/N]. Her gentle smile telling him that she hadn’t noticed his uncomfortableness, or his struggle with his Zanpakuto. That she was just happy to see him. “Sorry to keep you waiting. Life of the Shihōin head. You know.” No. He doesn’t. But in another life he might have, as the only son of the once great & proud Azashiro Clan. “Did the servants offer you anything? Goodness, what a terrible impression….”

“I didn’t want anything.” Somewhere, in the back of his mind, he thought it was a trap. That the tea they offered him would be poisoned in some elaborate long came where the Seireitei assassins would finally destroy the Azashiro with the clever beguiling nature of its head.

“Hmmm…shall we head to the garden then?”

Azashiro nodded. Outside was best. Not better, but best. At least the open space would let him get air in his lungs. “How is your brother?”

“Captain Shihōin,” [Y/N] said with a playful sneer. “He’s fine. Wiping the Onmitsukidō into shape over his perceived abuse at having to take orders from a woman all his life.”

Urozakuro rattled louder. To the point that Azashiro had to wrap his whole fist around her hilt to silence her. “Children can be that way.”

Since [Y/N] had no interest in being a Shinigami, the traditional role of leading the 2nd had fallen to her brother. A decision that many regretted and urged her not to make, as she was notably stronger and more even tempered than her brother, but she told him once that it was not the work, she hated but the politics. He had to agree. Life was simpler in the 11th, where strength was the only measure of character.

Her horrible little brother was actually how they met. The clan heads, those of course not already seated in positions of power in the 13, attending one of the captains’ gathers to discuss safety and security in the Seireitei. A joke, Azashiro had thought, as the only ‘safety & security’ nobles cared about was their own power. His butchered family was testament to that. But…he had been moved by [Y/N]’s earnestness in the meeting. She genuinely seemed to care about people; and not just the people within their walls. Perhaps it was all an act, as he knew nobles were good at that too, but he had been taken in by her words and soon fell in love.

“Hopefully he’ll grow out of it one day. I mean, he has too, right?” [Y/N] sighed. Then said in a low voice, “for the sake of his children I hope so….”

He had no children now, but would be expected to. To marry, and carry on the line, because, as luck would have it, their prized jewel was not only not interested in being a Shinigami but also barren. The Shihōin family seemed to have been cursed with a beautiful, intelligent, wonderful tragedy that would bring them into great prominence and then hand it off to sows of an idiot. Doomed, some said, but a boon for Azashiro. Since she could not extend the line, no one questioned their friendship and relationship as nothing of note could come from it.

[Y/N] sighed again and stretched her hands over her head. “Let’s get out of here.” Azashiro looked towards her in surprise. Or as surprised as he let his expressions be. “I know you don’t like it here. You play it off, but to a Shihōin’s sight you might as well be shouting it like you want to.”

The corner of Azashiro’s lips turned up. He should have known she had noticed. What a stupid thing to assume. “Places like this…bring back bad memories.”

“I know.” She of course knew about his family. He never spoke of it, but every noble family knew. “And I don’t want you to have bad memories with me. Only good ones.”

Her fingers laced with his and he suddenly felt as some of the Shihōin palace weight had come off his shoulders. Funny, how the person who’s walls now stood for made him feel more at ease.

They leave and head for the country side via Hoho, and spend the afternoon in the fresh air and the sun. He could finally breath and let his hair down; metaphorically as he would never actually take his hair down in front of a lady.

Their relationship was complicated, with his past and her future, but he was content in the way that it worked and found peace in it.

Peace, unfortunately, was not something he was used to. Azashiro wondered how long it would last.

#;ask and ye shall receive (request answers)#bleach scenarios #bleach #bleach imagines #soya azashiro #soya azashiro x reader #bleach x reader #bleach: spirits are forever with you #bleach spirits are forever with you #Shihoin clan #female reader #tw: mentions of infertility #scenarios #imagine

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viscardiac · 1 year

Text

A season left of summer - XI

𝐌𝐀𝐄𝐆𝐎𝐑 𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐆𝐀𝐑𝐘𝐄𝐍 𝐗 𝐎𝐂

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: "But know this,” she rose an eyebrow. “I think Ceryse Hightower a poor match for the prince.” “And should Aella, a babe, suit him better?” He shook his head with a smile, pulling Visenya closer. “She just might.” “Let her be. Soon, Lady Ceryse shall give him an heir to care for, and this shall be long forgotten.” “I do hope you’re right,” Visenya sighed, leaning on his chest. But I don’t think you are, she thought.

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 2.642

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: pregnancy, i guess, sexual content

𝐗𝐈 - 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐅𝐈𝐒𝐇, 𝐋𝐄𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐌 𝐅𝐋𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑

𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐕 || 𝐍𝐄𝐗𝐓

“I tried not to say it before, but you look huge. Mother was nowhere near that big when she carried Alysanne or Vaella.” Rhaena shifted on her seat, feeling bad for saying it out loud, but rather concerned. She hoped nothing was wrong, and nothing seemed to be wrong, but the concern remained.

Aella shrugged, leaning further into her many pillows on the large chair she had all to herself, a hand under her very round belly to support it. She had noticed too, but had nothing to say about it, bothering only with keeping herself comfortable. She’d seen other women at court grow even larger, and she was no big woman herself. Maybe her belly just looked bigger than it should. Her husband was no small man either, her child would likely not fall behind.

“Mother was taller,” she replied at last, sitting up to reach the goblet of water. Aella felt too thisty of late, but it would soon leave her in the next week, only to return in the week after. “I am grateful you’ve come to visit, Rhaena. The maids here talk about all the wrong things.”

“Are you sure you don’t want to come home?” Rhaena frowned. “Mother wants you to, you know.”

She shook her head, drinking the goblet dry before thinking of something to say. It was hard to think those days, and Queen Visenya said she’d have another moon’s turn or two before she was due to birth her son. Her mother could have King’s Landing all she liked. She wasn’t returning until she could do so with her husband.

“Mother should have thought twice before she did what she did. I wasn’t about to spend my life being someone’s lady wife away from the city, away from everything. Reduced in title and cast aside as if I wasn’t father’s eldest child.” Aella sighed. “I will return when our exile is over. Only then will she meet her grandchildren, when I allow her to.”

“Gods, you sound just like him.” Rhaena turned her nose, crossing her arms, trying not to argue. Her sister was heavily pregnant and reasonably angry at their mother’s unbearable antics, and she understood where the spite came from, however stupid she thought her decision of staying behind without a maester, without the midwives he court trusted. Aella wasn’t any better than their mother in her scheming for having married that insufferable uncle of theirs, though.

“Like whom?” Aella looked to the side to fill her goblet again.

“Maegor,” Rhaena shook her head as well.

***

“Rhaena detests you,” Aella stiffled a laugh, turning a page on the book she balanced on her belly while Maegor took off his coat. “Your son doesn’t like when she talks about you, though. Kicks me to no end.” She lifted her eyes from the page to watch him, feeling her skin hot. But everything was too hot all the time, now.

“Good. She can leave, then, if my son doesn’t like her.” He huffed, closing her book and plucking it from her hands, setting it aside to lay his own hands on top of her belly. There was a small kick, to which his eyes shifted ever so slightly, in a softer manner. There was always something of a weakness where the child was concerned. Maegor sat on the bed, and she shifted to sit up, wanting to be closer, needing to be closer.

“She wants to stay longer. Until the babe is born. But mother told her she’s not to stay too long, so she’ll be back before that, in a few days.”

“Even when my mother stays to oversee her?” Maegor frowned, thinking it an offense to demand the return of his wife’s sister when she wanted her there.

“Even so.” Aella put a hand over his, fingers tracing circles on his skin upwards to his arm. She raised her head to be closer to his face, feeling his warmth. “Mother needs to see her under her control. The same way she does me.”

“So your sister wants you to return to your mother, who tried to keep you from me?” There was only the slightest shift on his expression, but his tone was angry. He lowered his face closer to hers, seeing her breath quicken. Her sister returning her to the queen was some sort of unimaginable treachery he would never allow to happen. She was his. His wife, his niece, his little princess. whatever else there was, was secondary.

“She doesn’t want me to return, she wants me to be safe,” Aella sighed. “I’m sure mother has filled her head with fears of me dying in childbed.”

“Do you plan to?” He huffed, still angry, but more humourous. Maegor didn’t believe she would die from their children. She was too stubborn to, and neither did he allow it. She smiled, her hand stopping on his forearm and back to his hand.

“What would you do if I did?”

Maegor caressed her belly before leaning over to kiss her softly on the lips.

“It’s adorable that you think death could get you out of this marriage.”

Aella laughed through her nose, pulling the hand she held down to herself, between her legs and over her dress. She looked up with eyes as dark as his. There was something about having his fingers on her, in her, that had her skin shiver. Maegor hadn't stopped looking at her, wanting her, she could tell, but he seemed to keep to himself except for the nights in which it was unbearable, perhaps in worry for the babe. Then, he would come to her rooms for a sleepless night, and she'd end laying on her side with him still inside her and drifting off. Those had become rarer the bigger she grew, but every other night, he'd be back. She wanted him to be back, and he always did, one way or another. That was her turn to ask of him, though, and even if she kept herself in check most of the time, sometimes it felt like she had another skin to shed.

Maegor looked from his hand up to her, kissing her once again, in a harsher manner, and begun to raise her skirts to her hips, exposing her bare skin, her legs, her core. Maegor ran his thumb through her folds, and she only moaned low, in expectation. The longer he took, staring at her, the more impatient she grew. Aella whined, and he looked up at her, finding it amusing.

“Are you that desperate?” He raised his eyebrows, and she nodded, to which he smiled, though not at all kind. Maegor caressed her thighs slowly, taking in the shape of his wife. That was something he’d never tire of seeing, her round with child, impatient, dripping in front of him. He rubbed her again and she moaned, pushing against his fingers slightly.

Gently, but firmly, he turned her onto her side. It seemed to be more comfortable that way after time went by and movement became complicated for her because of the babe. She still waited while he placed himself behind her, turning to face him as he brushed the hair away from her neck to bite at her skin.

“Don’t be too rough,” she asked, breathing shallower as she felt him between her legs. “I might make a mess out of this bed. Your son has taken up too much space.”

“If you make a mess out of this bed, you can sleep in mine,” he kissed the back of her neck, pushing himself in slowly.

She felt tighter than usual, moaned louder, whined more than usual. Maegor made a note to visi her at night more often. He held one of her thighs as he moved, slowly, trying to keep himself in control, and she held his wrist, moving along sloppily. She’d been taking less and less time to come around him, and he supposed that had the pregnancy to blame. Maegor started out slow, but not only did she seem to want more than that, the sight of her riled him up. So he picked up the pace, holding tighter at her skin.

Aella was fast to untie the laces that kept her dress together clumsily, letting it hang loose around her form, her swollen breasts, that were readily squeezed by him. Her legs felt weaker at every addition in stimulus, at every bite to her neck, and she gripped stronger at his wrist the faster, rougher he became. Maybe the mess was inevitable.

His grip on her leg, on her sides, on her breasts also got tighter. It all built up more and more, seemed to become too much. When she first came, it felt soft on her body, but it still didn’t seem like enough, so it was better that it only seemed to be incentive for Maegor. But after it, everything felt too sensitive, and too much became too much too fast. She whimpered at him not to stop, barely able to focus on anything but how good she felt, on his hands, on him moving inside her.

On the back of her mind, she wondered whether her nails would leave a mark on his arm, but didn’t really care. Maybe he would punish her for it, answered the foggy part, and if his punishment felt anything like that, she couldn’t wait. She was his to play with, after all. Aella was barely in control anymore as she came the second time, feeling herself squirting all over the sheets with a pathetic moan, her legs feeling wet and her insides pulsing. She’d warned him, after all.

When he came, not long after her, adding to the mess on the sheets with a last squeeze on her breast, she only breathed in slowly, shaky. Though someone would have to clean all that up, she wondered how long she would have to wait to be used like that again once she became too close to the due date to think of it.

***

Aella fanned herself faster as Maegor hung the sheathe of Dark Sister around her bedpost. She didn’t know he’d brought it along, nor did she understand the reasoning to have it there. He said nothing, and the silence stretched before she finally decided to say something. Rhaena was leaving soon. Whatever he planned to do, she hoped it was fast.

“You brought Dark Sister?” She frowned, with a sigh. “I thought you’d left it on Dragonstone.”

Maegor shrugged, not seeming to find it a big deal. It was his sword to carry or leave. And he decided its place was hanging around the bedpost of Aella’s bed. She was just as his as the sword. “For Aenys to give her to one of your child brothers? No.”

“Why on my bed?” Aella ran a hand through her hair.

He shrugged. There was no rational reason to leave it there. Aella wouldn’t use it, she was no good at it despite Queen Visenya’s best effort. His mother had tried to instruct her in arms when she was younger, but it had never actually worked. She couldn’t use it. Maybe it was just the paranoia in the back of his head, growing in size the closer she got to the due date and telling him no blade was too less if it kept his son safe. A reminder of whose wife she was as well, perhaps, to any who dared enter her bedchamber.

“My son should have a sword of his own,” he answered at last, arms crossed, deciding it looked fine the way he put it. Aella smiled at the absurdity of it nonetheless, fanning herself with the delicate lacquer fan. Though the sea breeze was often in through the windows, she often felt as if she were in the worst of summers.

“We should head down, now,” she suggested, looking for support on the nearest chair. “I would like to say my goodbyes to my sister before she goes.”

“She should come to do it herself.” Maegor crossed his arms, looking down at her. She was not going down a flight of stairs by herself, not when she was taking support on everything to walk. “I don’t want my wife in any effort in this moment.”

She huffed, one hand on her waist to better support her back. “I can walk. I’ll be fine.”

“I’m sure you’re going to be fine. Sitting in that pretty chair of yours.” He pointed, already calling for a maid. Aella barely had the time to open her mouth for a retort before a maid was bowing at the door. “Fetch that princess before she goes off on her dragon. My wife would like to meet with her. And while you’re at it, bring her some water.”

“I want to go down!” Aella insisted, childishly, but was shut shown by a glare.

“You are in no condition to go down steps that steep. I won’t risk that. If you want to take a walk outside, I will take you later. Not now.”

Aella crossed her arms in defeat, still fanning herself annoyedly. She disliked being treated as though she had no legs of her own.

“You must promise to take me,” she pouted, tapping her foot.

“Must I?” He raised his eyebrows, and was promptly hit with the fan, though it barely even hurt. Maegor decided he liked her like this.

“You must!”

He sighed at last, hands on his waist and looking down at her like one does to a misbehaving pet.

“Then fine, is it? I promise to take you to the gardens later.”

She nodded, seeming satisfied with his answer, heading back to her chair, sitting among the many many pillows. Soon, Rhaena came in, and he left. She despised him, and he held no affection for her either. Maegor had no wish to stay only to be annoyed at the brat. Rhaena stared while he walked out, looking around and pointing at the sword on the bedpost as the maid handed Aella water.

“Is that…?”

“Yes. Don’t ask.” She sighed, taking a sip and laying down the cup.

“You can’t use it. You’re terrible.”

“Not on my best effort, no,” she laughed, but made no move to further explain. Rhaena didn’t need to know. Aella focused on her sister. “So your time is up.”

Rhaena nodded, crossing her arms, taking a last look around the rooms Aella had claimed as hers. They were adequate, though she thought the ones back at home were better. “I wished I could stay longer. But mother demands my return, as she does, fearing perhaps I, too, might run off to marry some pentoshi magister.”

“You will return, won’t you?” Aella sighed. “I miss the daily life in King’s Landing.”

“If I can. For now, focus on the babe. I’m sure things will turn out fine.” She opened her arms, approaching Aella despite the large belly. But she found a way to make the hug work. Aella held as tightly as she could before letting go, and tried not to think of it as definite. The exile had its days numbered. And Rhaena wasn’t going to die. Neither was she. “If anything happens you are required by me and my will to stab the prince in the eye.”

“Nothing is going to happen,” Aella laughed through her nose, holding her sister tighter before letting go. “And I am no good at stabbings, but know my way around poison.”

“Then poison him, I care not.” She twisted her nose, backing away. “I must go now, before Dreamfyre grows bored and decides to feast on your lord husband.”

“She wouldn’t dare.”

“I wouldn’t tempt her, sister.”

“Go, then, and try not to fall off mid-flight.”

“I’ll see you later, Aella.”

“You will,” she nodded.

#my writing #my art #a season left of summer #oc/aella #maegor #maegor i targaryen #maegor the cruel #maegor targaryen #maegor x oc #asoiaf #pre asoiaf #got #a song of ice and fire #fyeahasoiafocs #fyeahgameofthronesocs #fyeahgotocs

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dulcewrites · 10 months

Note

Do you have any family moments between k&q fmo? Like family dinner, or cassandra and aemond having moments with the kids, or maybe aemond and the kids riding their dragons together. Whatever you think :)

Westeros’ Not So Brady Bunch

The seat next to Cassandra is painfully empty. Annoyingly empty actually. Once was a mistake, several times was a pattern; Aemond was late to dinner yet again. There is little she can do but wait and silently seethe. That had become her pattern.

“Can we eat already,” Daella finally breaks the silence.

“No, not until your father arrives.”

Her daughter slumps in her chair in distain.

“He is probably doing something important,” Alaric says softly.

“Or he just didn’t bother to come.”

“Daella please,” Cassandra sighs. Not in front of your brother.

It is few more minutes of silence before Aemond finally comes in a rush. Alaric, and a begrudging Daella, stand up to greet him. Cassandra just continues sit.

So, maybe seething quietly is not the only thing she does.

Aemond leans down to kiss her on the cheek, and she jerks her head back when she gets a familiar smell. “On dragonback really?”

He frowns, sitting in the chair next to her. “She’s getting old, she has to move or she will wither away.”

At least he tends to one woman in his life correctly.

Cassandra hopes Vhagar doesn’t die before Aemond. Not only for her husband’s sanity, but for her own. She cannot imagine an Aemond who has lost everyone else then his beloved dragon.

Alaric wastes no time launching into a story about his training session that day. Cassandra knows her son cares little about swordsmanship. He does it all for the look of approval Aemond gives him. Beaming each time Aemond gets the opportunity to take time out of his day to watch.

“And Ser Crakehall tells me that I’m moving closer to using something with more weight soon.”

“That’s lovely sweetheart,” Cassandra hates the idea of son carrying a sword around.

Daella clangs her dish loudly on the table, gathering everyone’s attention.

“I want to be fostered somewhere.”

Cassandra blinks, a sense of dread mounting in her stomach. Aemond lets out a humorless, confused chuckle.

“What?”

“I want to be fostered at noble house, preferably for the coming summer.”

“And why is that, Daella,” Aemond’s tone is incredulous.

“Because I thought I would have the privilege of not being stuck in this castle for the rest of my life,” she says confidently. “Plus, mother said she would consider it.”

Aemond’s head turns slowly towards Cassandra’s direction.

Fuck.

“I said, that I would speak to your father about the idea in due time.”

Cassandra hopes that shuts the conversation down but it only continues on.

“And where would you be going,” Aemond tilts his head to the side. Like a curious dog would if something strange was happening in front of them.

“Anywhere. Any place would be love to take in a princess of the realm.”

Aemond mutters a ‘wow’ under his breath. Their daughter’s boldness never ceases to amaze them.

“We will think about it,” Cassandra tries to appease her daughter, but Aemond scoffs in reponse.

“Any place would house you… and your extremely large dragon,” he laughs incredulously.

The condescension seems to trigger something in Daella.

“I want to go out and see the realm. I want to see something other than the same walls and same people everyday.”

“Oh, here we go. Poor Daella.”

“Aemond,” Cassandra warns.

“This castle feels more like a dungeon at times,” she hisses. “Gods forbid I stay locked away here untill you marry me off the highest bidder. Then I’ll be forced to squeeze out children for a man who can’t even to show up to dinner on time.”

The room gets silent. Cassandra thinks she might throw up.

“That - that came out wrong,” Daella mutters.

Cass is sure it actually came out right. A thought that’s clearly been sitting on her daughter’s heart for a moment. She just pushes her chair back, suddenly not hungry anymore. Cassandra ignores the pleas from her kids and Aemond to stay. Embarrassment and anger being the thing that carries her to her chambers.

———

By the time there is a knock on her door, the tears have dried on her pillow and Cassandra has already began to get ready to bed.

A part of her wants to tell whoever it is to go away. But with a dejected sigh, she lets the guard let whoever it is in. In the reflection of her vanity mirror, she sees Daella gingerly walk in.

“I asked for one of the maids to bring you some of those cakes you like. They should be here soon.”

Cassandra continues to brush her hair silently.

“I apologized to father,” she fiddles with her dress, nervously. “And I am sorry for what happened at dinner.”

Cassandra pauses, turning from her mirror to look her daughter in the eye. She understands Daella never meant to hurt her, or even Aemond, but how does one live with the fact their life is apparently their daughter’s worst nightmare.

“I didn't mean what I said. I just.. I don't know."

"I had no idea hating King's Landing so much was the reason you wanted to be fostered elsewhere."

She was told that is was for the opportunity to experience something different.

"I don't hate it here," she looks down at her feet. "Not really I guess. It just might be better for everyone if I just wasn't around."

Cassandra's brows furrow in contempt. "Why would you say that?"

Daella shrugs. "Everyone has other things to tend to. Father is always busy, Alaric has all these lessons, and... you're gonna have more kids to worry about. Best I be out of everyone's way."

Cassandra thinks her heart might have broken into a million pieces. She gets up from her seat, and goes over to Daella.

"I am sorry if anyone gave you that impression to begin with," she pushes a curl behind Daella's ear. "Absolutely no one here wants you 'out of the way'."

Daella doesn't say anything in response.

"Have you expressed this to your father?"

"Like he would care," she scoffs.

Cassandra will be the first to say Aemond has not been best father at times. The very first to say it. But the last thing she wants is any of her children to grow with resentment towards their parents. Not even just for her and Aemond's sakes, but because she knows the bitter hole that leaves in someone's heart. Wind whistling through the space left that should be taken up by the affection of a parent. She worries her kids will never understand how much her and Aemond would go to the ends of the earth for them. How much they already have. Battles have been fought and won for them. A war waged on partly for them.

"How about you and I make a deal? I will convince him to think about the idea, but you have to sit down and voice what you have been feeling before that."

Daella looks up through her lashes. "Do I have much of a choice?"

"Yes, you do," Cassandra sighs. "But I would hope you would want to work this out with him. He may surprise you."

"Do I have to do it tonight?"

"No, sleep would be best for everyone right now. But the sooner you do it, the better."

She kisses her daughter on the forehead before sending her on her way.

"Mommy," Daella stops right before she leaves. "I really am sorry for what I said."

Cassandra throat feels tight again. She just gives a strained smile and nod. She is sorry too.

For so much she cannot put into words just yet. For things she thinks Daella will not understand unless she had a girl of her own.

Aemond comes to breakfast early.

Not to make up for the dinners he has been late to, though that would be a good idea, but to avoid Cassandra.

Then I’ll be forced to squeeze out children for a man who can’t even bother to show up to dinner on time.

It was not even Aemond who reprimanded Daella once Cassandra silently left dinner. It was Alaric. He gave what had to be the most confused and digusted look Aemond had ever seen to both his sister and father.

“What is wrong with you two?”

The words were harsh but his tone was dripping with sadness. It was not long before he left in a similar silent, upset state that his mother did. Leaving just Aemond and Daella there.

“I am sorry. I -“

Aemond held up his hand to stop her. Frankly wanting to leave the room himself in that moment. “Just umm apologize to your mother.”

He should’ve went to Cassandra last night, but he didn’t know what to say.

Sorry our daughter hurt your feelings by saying the truth. Sorry I am making you squeeze out more heirs for me. Sorry I am selfish enough to take time you are willing to give me.

He had been hoping he could scarf down whatever the kitchen staff made for breakfast then get to work. Admittly wanting to take the cowardly way out of seeing his wife or kids. But that bubble burst when Daella walks in.

She sits in the seat catty-cornered to his. At first, he thinks she will just go about her business. Having the same idea of ignoring what happened last night that he did.

“Do you hate me?”

Aemond chokes on the bread in his mouth. A harsh coughing fit occurring to the point where some of the guards standing in the far corner of the room try to rush and help him. He waves them away once he has taken a sip of something.

“It is ok if you do. I would just like to know,” she says it so plainly and bluntly.

“Why on earth would you think that?”

He knows he is not perfect, and he knows he has not made the best decisions all the time. But has he slipped so far that his own kid would think he hates her?

…. Has he become his… father?

Daella shrugs, no answer coming.

“I’m serious. Where is this coming from?”

“You don’t engage with me like you do with Alaric,” she picks at her fingers, not making eye contact. Aemond can’t help but feel a little sick thinking about his mother. It was a habit she tried to break, but even in her final days, she managed to pick herself away with worry. “I get it. He’s your heir and you have much in common but… We don’t talk.”

Aemond grabs one of her hands to stop her. Daella looks up with tears swimming in eyes.

“I do not hate you. The complete opposite actually.” He has so many feelings surrounding his family, his life, now that he thinks he may burst from it. That he will keep internalizing enough till something in him pops. “I am sorry. I just…”

I don’t know how to talk to you.

The older she gets, the more he can feel her slipping through his fingers. And before he knows it, he will just have a bunch of memories to hold onto.

“I just need to do better.”

Daella doesn’t look fully convinced.

“Is that why you want to leave, because of me?”

“It may be easier that way.”

“It won’t be,” Aemond rebuts. “Because you will be thinking of me, and I will surely be thinking of you. We are kind of stuck with each other kid.”

“Well, that reassuring,” she says sarcastically, letting out a watery laugh.

“Why don’t I cancel what I need to do for the rest of the day. It can just be you and me,” he offers.

A small smile comes on her face. “Could not cancel?”Aemond gives her a confused look. “I want to know what your day is like.”

Aemond wrinkles his nose. “It’s really not that interesting,” he warns.

Daella shrugs indifferently.

“Alright, when we are finished here, our first act of business is meeting with Hugo.”

“Mother says Hugo is a snake with a dirty beard and a hidden agenda.”

Of course she does.

“Rule one of the day: Let’s not repeat your mother says about him when he is in the room.”

For the first time in a long time, Aemond quite enjoys breakfast.

#baelor 🤝🏽 daella: my angry emo teenagers #she’s acting out for her father’s attention nauuurrrr :(#that maybe if she’s gone he will learn to miss her :((#her just wanting to be apart of his life… :(((#sorry this took forever. I wrote something then deleted it lmao #also sorry this is angsty but I think it gives insight to their dynamic during this time #fmo k&q au

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waitingforwinterwinds · 1 year

Text

ASOS; Steel and Snow: 12 TYRION II (pages 161-172)

Tyrion visits Varys to arrange a date with Shae, then sics Bronn on a bard.

The eunuch was humming tunelessly to himself as he came through the door, dressed in flowing robes of peach-colored silk and smelling of lemons.

lemon(s) = 🥛

also I have just had the best mental image of Modern Day AU Varys as a Drag Queen. Probably runs a club with all the best gossip.

"I am full of surprises. Are you cross with me for abandoning you after the battle?" "It made me think of you as one of my family."

Ha! that is both a sick burn, and also really sad.

... damn. Maegor: 3 x Grand Maesters by Axe Aegon II: 1 x Grand Maester by Dragon Digestion

That "maesters wrecked the Targaryens actually" theory sounding more and more likely. Look at all this extra motive.

Bronn had turned up all he could on Ser mandon, but no doubt Varys knew a great deal more... should he choose to share it. "The man seems to have been quite friendless," Tyrion said carefully. "Sadly," said Varys, "oh, sadly. You might find some kin if you turned over enough stones back in the Vale, but here... Lord Arryn brought him to King's Landing and Robert gave him his white cloak, but neither loved him much, I fear. (...) Ser Barristan was once heard to say he had no friend but his sword and no life but duty... but you know, I do not think Selmy meant it altogether as praise.-"

OOOHHHH!!!! I just had a conspiracy theory.

Cersei didn't hire Moore to kill Tyrion, Moore was taking a chance to kill who he believed was responsible for Jon Arryn's death after getting news from the Vale from on old friend who still lives there re: the very rigged Trial and Lysa's (very loud and false) claims. Moore was taking the first opportunity for vengeance that he thought he could get away with.

What do you think? Feasible? Too much crack?

One day, I am going to come up with a conspiracy theory that contains so much pure crack, the cops will break down the door for a drug bust.

But also, given how this series uses perceptions and assumptions, even if we're in some one's POV, we don't always get the full story, but it is the best way to be sure someone actually did something for realsies.

... You know, I'm actually kind of surprised they let Lollys keep the foetus (or are forcing her to keep the foetus) to term. You'd think, given how they treat bastards and such, that they'd remove 'such a stain' before it became a problem.

(Or at the very least they wouldn't force a young woman who's been violated to carry a baby she never asked for. But then again this series does not care very much for the female members of the cast. The kind ongoing of trauma and dysphoria that is probably giving her, whether it looks that way or not in her current mental state...)

"To guard the king's life, you surrender your own. You give up your lands and titles, give up hope of marriage, children..." "House Tyrell continues through my brothers," Ser Loras said. "It is not necessary, for a third son to wed, or breed." "Not necessary, but some find it pleasant. What of love?" "When the sun has set, no candle can replace it."

D&D suck at their job = 🥛

I'm sorry, but can we just take a moment and appreciate the depth of Loras' grief? Like, I have no trouble believing Book!Loras loved Renly for real. Truly, honestly loved him first and foremost before he saw him as a pawn to get at the throne.

Show!Loras and Renly? I forgot they even fucked.

Loras being gay in the show felt like a background joke. "LoL, Sansa has a crush on a gay boy," or "LOL, Cersei is getting married to the gay boy."

Even between Loras and Renly, in the show, the first time we really saw them together, Loras was talking Renly into vying for the crown and Robert wasn't even dead yet. It was manipulation and titillation. Were they in love or was Loras just using him? Who knows, but after Renly died no one really cared, and I forgot they fucked, forgot Loras was even gay until it was shoved back in my face like a poor tasting joke.

Book!verse though? I can believe those two were in love, I can believe Loras is grieving that loss so quietly because he can't say what he's lost, what he feels, he can't express the depth of it and he has to listen to everyone around him belittle that affection and connection, and oh my gosh that poor boy.

A woman sidled into the light; plump, soft, matronly, with a round pink moon of a face and heavy dark curls. Tyrion recoiled. "Is something amiss?" she asked. Varys, he realized with annoyance.

Drag Queen!Varys is canon. Pry it from my cold dead hands. Just cross-dressing, I know, shhhh, let me have this.

"He's gone," Shae said. Tyrion turned to look. It was true. the eunuch had vanished, shirts and all. The hidden doors are here somewhere, they have to be.

You wanna bet they're under the giant stone slab of a bed? You know, that thing that our attention was directed to the last time he was talking about hidden doors?

(also, it made me think of that scene from the animated Secret Garden, with the secret door under the window seat when they were talking about it earlier, but it probably slides like that giant coffin door from... oh gish, what's the movie... it's going to come to me right as I'm drifting off to sleep. It's like an entire trope to be fair, "giant stone altar/coffin is actually a sliding door" so I'm probably thinking of several movies.)

Her cunt gave him a little squeeze, and he started to stiffen again inside her.

'cunt' = 🥛

... you know, the longer Shae talks about Lollys, the more I prefer Show!Shae to Book!Shae, just for the fact that the show version has some level of empathy for other people. I understand it's probably a coping mechanism for some kind of hidden backstory trauma (no one in this series is without), but damn the way book!Shae treats sexual assault is icky AF.

Then he made a round of the walls, tapping on each in turn, searching for the hidden door. Shae sat with her legs drawn up and her arms wrapped around them, watching him. Finally she said, "They're under the bed. the secret steps." He looked at her, incredulous. "The bed? the bed is solid ston. It weighs half a ton." "There's a place where Varys pushes, and it floats right up. I asked him how, and he said it was magic." "Yes." Tyrion had to grin. "A counterweight spell."

Ha-ha! I was right... about the location. Not the door type, though. The magic in this series is so low key or background I tend to forget it's a thing.

This does explain how he got out of the room without being heard. half-ton stones are not quietly moved, even if they have mechanisms to help them.

!! Alayaya made it back to her mother's brothel! Phew, I was low key worried something had happened to her on the walk back. you know, after she was whipped and kicked out the Keep naked?

"There is a singer who calls himself Symon Silver Tongue," Tyrion said wearily, pushing his guilt aside. "He plays for Lady Tanda's daughter sometimes. "What of him?" Kill him, he might had said, but damn the man had done nothing but sing a few songs.

You'd think Bards would do better in life, what with being a Charisma class, but no, no one likes Bards here.

And fill Shae's head with thoughts of doves and dancing bears.

... well now I have "Once Upon a December" from Anastasia (1997) stuck in my head.

Dancing Bears Painted Wings Things I almost remember. And a song someone sings Once upon a December.

#a storm of swords #steel and snow #a song of ice and fire #tyrion lannister #a chapter a day reading #asos #asoiaf

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lillywillow · 1 year

Text

Mateship

Summary: During the war, Bucky met a quirky Australian stretcher bearer. What happens when he meets their grandchild?

Written for: @buckybarnesbingo

Words: 1007

Square Filled: B4- Mates

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Australian!Reader

Warnings: Mild swearing, drinking, smoking

London, 1943

Bucky and his squadron were given some time of to rest before being shipped out again. Everyone was in a party mood; drinking, talking to the beautiful women, just having a great time. Even Steve seemed to be enjoying himself. Bucky stepped outside for a few minutes to get a little fresh air. As he walked out the door, he noticed a soldier in a different uniform leaning against the wall smoking.

“How’s it goin’?” he drawled in a thick accent that Bucky couldn’t quite place.

“Good…” Bucky replied, unsure if this was the correct response.

“Durry?” the man asked, offering out one of his cigarettes.

Bucky wasn’t much of a smoker but an occasional one or two when he was out in social events. He took the offered cig and lit it up.

“You’re not from around here, are you?” Bucky asked.

“Me? A pom? Nah,” he scoffed. “I’m from Australia. I’m a stretcher-bearer. Gimme a sec, mate… Dazza, if you slip in your spew, I’m not taking you back to the barracks like that!”

Bucky looked to see him yelling at another man who had stumbled out of the bar to lean on a nearby wall to throw up. He only gave the middle finger in response. Bucky was used to rowdy soldiers but this was different.

“Look at ‘im. Pissed off his face yet still responsive,” the man chuckled to himself before giving Bucky a formal introduction to which Bucky also introduced himself.

“So, Jimbo, you got someone waiting for you back home?”

“Nah. Maybe one day I’ll meet the right one but for now, I’m still single,” Bucky casually shrugged.

“It’s alright, mate. Sometimes it takes a while, sometimes it’ll catch you by surprise. Take my sheila for instance. Never thought I’d ever get married but then, there she was,” he smiled, taking out a picture for Bucky to look at.

Bucky smiled softly at the portrait of a young woman standing with this goofball beside him. They seemed to be very much in love. The conversation was cut short by a crash as ‘Dazza’ fell over. The Australian rolled his eyes.

“Come on, Daz. Let’s get you back,” he sighed.

“Need a hand?” Bucky offered.

“I’ve got it, mate. Daz might be a pain in the arse but he’s my mate and I’ll get him back alright,” he reassured him with a smile.

Bucky watched as the hauled the drunk soldier over his shoulder and carried him away.

“Hope to see you again sometime, Jimbo!” he called as he headed off.

Bucky hoped so too. This guy may have been a little rough but he seemed like an overall good guy.

…

For the rest of Bucky’s stay in London, he ran into the soldier a few times. He got to know the Aussie better and learnt a little bit about life in Australia. Whenever someone would have a bit too much to drink, Bucky would help him carry them back to where ever they were staying. As the stretcher-bearer said, ‘they might be a pain in the arse sometimes but you always have your mate’s back’. The pair of them even promised to exchange letters once the war was over. Unfortunately, Bucky never got to keep his end of the promise.

…

London, present day

The Avengers had taken up a mission in England and with it complete, they had some time to have a look around. Bucky and Steve took an opportunity to have a look around the old places they went to back during the war. To their surprise, the Whip and Fiddle pub was still a functioning establishment. The interior had changed a little but it was still like they remembered it. Bucky ordered a drink and sat down at the bar. Memories began to play out in his mind. He barely noticed when someone sat next to him. After a while, he could feel somebody was staring at him.

“Can I help you?”

The person jumped at suddenly being spoken to.

“Sorry for staring. You just look like a guy in one of my grandpa’s pictures,” they sheepishly smiled.

Wait, Bucky recognised that accent.

“You wouldn’t happen to be Australian, would you?” Bucky pried.

“Yep! Born and raised! I’m taking a tour of the places my grandpa went during the war. He passed away recently and I just wanted to find some way to honour him…”

Bucky’s heart started to beat a little faster.

“Do you have a picture of him?”

“Sure do!”

You handed him a picture that you had taken with your phone. The man was much older but he still recognised that same goofy smile with the cigarette dangling from his lips.

“I knew him,” he breathed.

“You did?”

“Back during the war…”

Bucky went on to explain his situation, how he had stayed so young and how he knew your grandfather during the war.

You were in awe of his story. Your grandfather had told you stories about Jimbo Barnes over the years but now here you were actually talking to the man himself. Bucky told you stories about what antics your grandpa got up to in the pub and you told him what life was like for him once he had returned. You both laughed at the stories until the laughter died down.

“I miss the old bugger,” you sadly smiled.

“He was a good… mate,” he smiled back, using your own lingo.

“He was… I’ve really enjoyed talking with you, Bucky.”

“I’ve enjoyed talking with you too. Could I have your number so we could keep in touch?”

“I’d like that,” you smiled.

You would have like to think that your grandfather brought the two of you together. Maybe the pair of you would form a different kind of mateship.

#Bucky Barnes #bucky barnes x reader #Australian Reader #bbb2022 #bucky barnes bingo #Mateship #Mates #ww2 #marvel #marvel fanfiction #marvel one shot

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touchofdawn · 2 years

Text

Headcanons about Diluc’s Mother 🌼

[—see trigger warnings in the tags—]

As was the custom in those days, Lucille was arranged to be married to Crepus Ragnvindr when she came of age. As the daughter of a Knight of Favonius, it was a marriage for status and wealth, as far as she was concerned. For Crepus, he desired her close association with the Knights of Favonius and needed a bride to provide him with heirs that might carry on their family name. (And it certainly didn’t hurt that she was beautiful.)

Yet, despite a rocky and formal beginning, they soon found a genuine connection in each other. Crepus was creative, charismatic, kind, and had an ambition that burned, hungry and passionate. Lucille was shy, clever, generous, and skilled with a polearm that landed Crepus on his ass more than once, quickly earning his undying devotion.

They were an affectionate couple, often seen holding hands and sharing a kiss at the lakeside where they would walk on sunny afternoons. He would teach her the tricks of the wine business and let her taste every new flavor for her stamp of approval before he added it to the menu at Angel’s Share. She would play piano and sing while he worked at his desk, occasionally adding his off-pitch harmonies to make her laugh.

However, for all the nights they tried, they struggled to conceive. Years of loss and failure, of miscarriages and disappointment. Lucille tried every medicine and home remedy, every tea and pill and potion, to give him an heir.

“Next time,” Crepus would say. “We’re still young. It’ll happen one day. Let’s try again when you’re ready.”

She withdrew into herself, convinced that it was her own personal failing that she could not conceive or carry a child to term. Her body was spent and weak. She spent most days in bed and needed help just to walk in the vineyards she loved. In a low moment, she suggested to Crepus that he ought to find another wife, that he deserved a wife that could give him the children he dreamed of, but Crepus refused, assuring her that they just needed to be patient and get her strength back and that there was no other woman he could ever want more than she.

When it was eventually confirmed that she was pregnant once more, she went immediately in to Windrise, leaning on Crepus for every step. On her knees before the massive tree, she begged and pleaded for Barbatos to let her child live, promising through her tears that she would do or give anything to let this child be healthy and strong.

In her heart, she knew it was her last chance.

Although she heard no response, as the weeks and months went by and the child inside her grew, a gentle breeze seemed to follow wherever she went, as if Barbatos himself was watching over them.

Lucille’s Journal, April 9:

“Little one, I hope you will forgive my impatience. Your father and I have waited so long for you. You don’t even have a name and, yet, I love you already; so much that it seems some days as if my heart may burst. I cannot wait to hold you in my arms and see your smile and hear your sweet laugh. From how you kick, I am sure you will be strong. Will you grow up to be a Knight like your grandfather? I cannot wait to teach you to play piano and chess (your father is dreadful—don’t tell him I’ve been letting him win) and your father may one day teach you how to make a drink of your very own. Would you like that?

Most of all, I hope you will find happiness in this world, and that the wind will lead you to a bright and marvelous future. I love you so much, my little light. Will you come home soon?”

Diluc was born on April 30—several weeks before he should have come into the world. But the joyous arrival of an heir to the Ragnvindr Clan was met with equal loss and sorrow. Lucille was too weak to hold him in her arms, but they placed him on her chest so that he might feel his mother’s warmth and the beat of her frail heart and she might finally hold her living child and sing him a lullaby with her final breaths.

Crepus never blamed Diluc for Lucille’s death, nor did he tell Diluc the truth when he eventually was old enough to ask what happened to his mother, as any child might. In fact, until Diluc found an old letter in his father’s study, he believed that his mother had died of an illness when he was too young to remember.

Although he bears no guilt over his mother’s death, Diluc does fear that history may repeat itself once more when the time comes for him to settle down and start a family of his own (if, indeed, that time ever comes at all).

#(totally just my personal headcanons)#(I like to think Diluc got his Luc from his mother)#;headcanons #;ooc #tw: miscarriage #tw: death #tw: depression #(in her memory <3)#tw: pregnancy

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star-trekkin-across-theuniverse · 1 year

Text

Worthy, pt 12

part 1 & 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6, part 7, part 8, part 9, part 10, part 11

__________

tags: @bolontiku, @rampant-salamander, @darkdragonpheonix , @440mxs-wife, @castiels-sunflowers, @peekingsunshine, @alexakeyloveloki, @feelmyroarrrr

word count: 3098

__________

Dad was putting dinner on the table when Mom and I walked in. The house was filled with the amazing aroma of roast chicken. It was my dad’s signature dish, and it was pure, unadulterated comfort food in our house. He made this thick, creamy gravy to go with it, and home fries. It was the unhealthiest healthy meal we ate in the house growing up, and it was tied with Mom’s homemade mac and cheese for my favourite dish. They had obviously figured out something was bugging me long before I boarded that plane at LaGuardia.

Once we were seated, Mom gave Dad a meaningful look. “She knows.” They must have even suspected why I was coming home, which didn’t make a lot of sense, but then again, neither did much of what Mom had told me while we ate our ice cream.

“I’m sure you have questions, Ellie-bean.” Dad’s cheesy nickname for me only came out on special occasions these days. I guess this counted. “Happy your Dad isn’t really, surprise!” day to me.

“I might eventually. I’m still reeling from the story Mom told me,” I admitted.

“We were desperate for children. I hope you’ll never understand how we felt. When he came to us, we pounced on the possibility of children, even though we both suspected chicanery. I couldn’t see the harm in letting him work his magic spell on your mother because I doubted it would work.” Dad had always been the more pragmatic of the two of them.

“But then he wanted to seduce Mom,” I protested.

“He was quite compelling. I don’t know that I would be fooled by his honeyed words a second time. But we wound up with you, Ella. And that was worth the small amount of damage it may have done to our relationship.” Dad was completely in earnest. I looked at him, and then back at Mom.

“You’re both really okay with that?” I was absolutely gobsmacked.

“I mentioned the desperation. Althea, I did mention the desperation? It was the 80s; your mother had been overlooked for yet another promotion because she was a woman who was viewed as putting her career ahead of everything else. I was on the verge of losing my job because of the AIDS epidemic. Men just weren’t nurses unless they were gay, and it was assumed that I was gay, and that your mother and I had married for convenience. There were no laws to protect me, and it wasn’t the truth, but I was going to be fired because the hospital was worried I would contract AIDS and then pass it along to every patient I touched. We needed you more than we cared to admit,” Dad took my hand in his. “I know you must think your mother and I completely amoral, but desperation makes you look at things differently.”

“Would you do things differently?” I asked. “If you had to do it again?”

“No. The circumstances would have been the same. Our desperation would have been just as real. I’ve never regretted the outcome of our interactions with him. He gave us you. And what a gift you’ve been. What parent could be luckier?”

“Don’t let the twins hear you!” I laughed. Dad kissed my forehead.

“You’re no less mine, Elizabeth,” he reassured me. And I guess that’s what I needed to hear because my heart lifted.

XXX

I barely slept on the red-eye back to New York. Instead, I found myself thumbing through the book of Norse mythology that my mother had read to me as a child. I’d slipped it into my carry-on before leaving, planning on doing a little research on Loki. Myths weren’t histories, obviously, but history was written by the winners. And I had to assume that was at least partly true for myths too. Because I couldn’t sleep, I made notes in the margins of the book every time Loki’s name came up. By the time the plane was touching down, I’d made a pretty solid start on assessing the characteristics of the god worshiped by the Vikings. It was just going to be a matter of comparing that information to what I knew to be true about this Loki, who had invaded earth.

Loki was a master of magic, a shapeshifter of note, capable of seamless disguises. He was a cunning manipulator of emotions. There was some suggestion that he was a talented healer, but it was always downplayed by saying there were better healers among the gods, principally Eir, the goddess of healing. It was actually kind of weird. Every time his talent for healing came up, the author of the book felt it important to point out that Eir was better than he was at it. He was skilled in small weapons like daggers and knives, and that, coupled with his mastery of illusion, made him a formidable enemy on the field of battle. I thought it interesting to note that although there were definitely better fighters amongst the Norse pantheon, the author of the book didn’t feel the need to point out who they were every time he discussed Loki’s fighting talent.

I was exhausted when we landed, which may have explained my giddy desire to cross-reference what I’d pulled from my book from the SHIELD files that had been leaked online. I had to put in a few hours in the lab, but I was far enough ahead that I could easily take the afternoon for a short nap and additional research. Angela met me at the baggage carousel, tapping her foot impatiently.

“Didn’t you think you might want to tell someone you were fucking off to Seattle for the weekend?” She scolded me. She was angry, but her words were light and easy. I stepped back in surprise.

“I wasn’t aware that I had to check in all the time.” My tone might have been a little pissy. Angela sucked in her breath and bit her lip.

“I didn’t mean it that way,” she sighed. “I could have made your flight easier. And cheaper.”

“I appreciate the concern, Ang. I’m sorry. I’m tired and snappy. But it’s not a big deal. I have a lot of frequent flyer miles,” I laughed, trying to make up for my snark.

“Stark Industries employees get a corporate rate at a different airline. You practically would have flown for free.” She chastised me, but her tone was even more light and careful than before. I forced a laugh as she steered me toward a black car outside.

“I’ll have to remember that for next time,” I said. “How did you know –“

“You aren’t hard to track,” she interrupted. “And Tony was concerned about you so he had me do it. How are your parents?”

“Still my parents, despite the psychotic Norse god’s attempt to make me feel otherwise,” I shrugged. “It was good to visit. I got the full story.”

“Was it sordid?” Angela winked. I laughed genuinely then and climbed into the backseat.

“No? Maybe,” I thought. “Yeah, a little. I’m beat. Do you mind if I close my eyes while we’re driving?”

“Go ahead. Dr. Richmond is here and wants to see you this afternoon. You might want to consider knocking off this morning and taking a nap. She’s got a thing about making people run on treadmills,” Angela warned me. I closed my eyes and dropped to sleep.

When we arrived back at the tower, I texted Markus and let him know I was going to put in some hours in the evening and headed straight to my bed. There was a huge amount of benefit to working at a company like Stark. Because Tony kept bizarre hours, we were allowed and encouraged to work the hours that would make us most productive. While Markus was a pretty solid nine-to-five kind of guy, there were others on our team that you only saw if you were in the lab after dark, and Markus didn’t worry about it, as long as their production was on schedule.

My sleep was restless, and I had crazy dreams. Dreams about my parents, about Loki, about my washing machine. Crazy dreams. I woke when my phone rang. It was after noon, and my stomach immediately voiced its displeasure.

“Yuh?” I grunted and rubbed my eyes.

“Wakey wakey, eggs and bakey!” Angela’s bright singsong made me want to break something. I grunted something rude in response and she started to laugh. “You should have slept on the plane, princess. Dr. Richmond is waiting in the med lab for you. I am waiting outside your door with a piping hot cup of coffee.”

“I’ll be out in a second,” I groaned and pushed myself to the edge of the bed. I rolled onto the floor and pushed up to my feet, dropping my phone in the process. I staggered over to the door, and pulled it open. Not only was Angela standing there, Bruce was too. Make that two Avengers who had seen me either almost or completely nude. I flipped the strap of my tank top up onto my shoulder, and pulled my boxers down a little, trying, and failing, to cover myself more. I glared at Angela.

“Seriously?”

“He followed me.” She raised an eyebrow. I snatched the coffee from her and stalked back to my room to get dressed. “I’m gonna let Bruce take you over to the med lab, Ella!”

I heard the door shut and realized there was a single apartment door between Bruce and me. It was the closest we’d been to one another since we’d kissed. I could feel my heart rate speed up a little as I pulled clothes on. Interesting. I took a deep breath, and a huge swallow of coffee and headed out to greet him. I was dragging my hair back into a ponytail as I walked toward him.

“Good morning, Bruce.” I forced myself to use a bright tone. He laughed and looked at his watch.

“It’s two-forty-five, Ella,” he corrected.

“Well, it’s still before noon in Seattle, which is where I was less than twelve hours ago, so it counts,” I rationalized. I popped back into my room for the coffee I’d left on the dresser and rejoined him. “Lead the way.”

Bruce said nothing on the elevator ride, and I was still too tired to be the least bit concerned by it, although I was burning with curiosity as to why he’d come to get me. We stepped into the med lab and the mystery was solved. Tony was also there, chatting with a tall redhead who must have been Dr. Richmond. And seated on the far side of the lab was a gorgeous blond, deeply engaged in a conversation with Thor, who I suspected was Steve Rogers. It was a mini-Avengers reunion, except Black Widow and Hawkeye were missing. From the scant amount of reading I’d done before falling asleep on my tablet, I thought I should probably be grateful Hawkeye wasn’t present. He might bear me ill will considering what Loki had done to him.

Tony dragged the redhead over. “Lexy, this is Ella. Ella is Loki’s actual daughter, not some weird mutant freakshow like you are.” He said it with such affection that I knew immediately that the doctor had been adopted into his weird family of misfits.

“It’s nice to meet you Ella. Is it actually Ella? He insists on getting mine wrong all the time,” Dr. Richmond shook my hand. Her smile was kind, but her eyes showed a hint of mischief.

“It’s not Lexy?” I asked.

“I prefer Lex,” she corrected. I nodded. “If you want to head over here so I can start your exam in private,” she emphasized the word, shooting a look at Tony, who was carefully pretending to ignore her, “we’ll get the embarrassing stuff out of the way right away, and then you get to be the first official non-human test of the Stark Industries MRI.”

“I’m half-human,” I protested.

“You are. But only half. And when I did Loki’s MRI, I discovered some shortcomings of a normal MRI that were addressed when Tony and I did the redevelop. And you get to be the first not-completely human person to go in!” Lex was excited by the prospect. I glanced over at Thor, in question. “Big strong thunder god is scared of small places.”

I burst out laughing. “Seriously?”

“Like a heart-attack. I’ll get him in there eventually. And if Daddy Dearest shows up again, I will totally be throwing him back into it. Head first.” A dark look flashed across her face as she gestured to the exam bed and drew the curtain. She pushed the sleeves of her lab coat up, revealing a large white scar in the shape of a hand on her forearm. My eyes widened, and I tried to act cool about it, but she totally caught it. “That would be where the genetic transfer occurred. So for the rest of my life, I’ll never be able to forget what he did to me.”

“Thor said he’s not really evil.” I used it as a question. Lex snorted.

“Thor and Loki live by a warrior's code. It’s so weird because when he talks about Asgard, it sounds so much more advanced than Earth is, except for the fucking war shit,” she explained. “So in Thor’s eyes, Loki’s actions had a reason behind them. They divorce themselves from emotional response in a lot of situations. I suspect that’s what split him and Jane.” As she spoke, she was poking and prodding at me. I nodded and retreated into my thoughts, only speaking when I needed to answer a question. I stood, I sat, I bent over, I raised my hands over my head. I would have hopped on one foot but that apparently wasn’t necessary.

Lex pulled a tray over and began preparing a needle for a blood draw. I eyeballed the needle and shook my head. “No, you’re going to need a 21 gauge or bigger. I have tough skin and my veins are like rock.”

Lex looked up at me, eyebrow raised. “Huh?”

“My mom is a doctor. I know needles. Particularly because I’ve always been a difficult stick. Instinct makes people want to go with a smaller gauge but my veins are tough. You’re going to have to jam that in there,” I explained.

“Isn’t that incredibly painful?” She rummaged around in the tray drawer for the larger needle.

“Yes. But it’s less painful than having someone dig around trying to get a skinny needle into the vein.” I put the tourniquet on my arm for her, just so the vein would be good and visible by the time she was ready. She took my arm and felt the vein. She was so expressive, I could almost see her thinking through the stick before she set the needle against my skin. She began to press against my arm with the needle, but she was too gentle. As soon as she realized what was going on, she gave me a good jab and the needle slipped into my skin and on into the vein.

“You’re almost as hard to stick as Loki,” she commented.

“Makes sense,” I shrugged. I yawned, still tired. A moment later, Lex yawned. From beyond the curtain, I heard another loud yawn. “Did no one sleep last night?”

“Steve and I don’t sleep well at the best of times,” Lex offered as she finished drawing my blood, “but last night I slept like the dead. I don’t know what’s going on.”

“The fuck, man? Is this some highly contagious narcolepsy?” I heard Tony exclaim from across the med lab. There was a mumbled response that might have been Bruce, and then some more yawning. I couldn’t help myself. I yawned again, which set Lex off again.

“I’m so sorry. I’m exhausted. It was a busy weekend, and jet lag,” I apologized. Lex nodded and covered her mouth, yawning yet again. She looked down and wiped the corner of her eye. Her head shot back up, eyes narrowed, just as I was covering another yawn.

“It’s you!” She exclaimed.

“What is?” I was baffled.

“The yawning. It’s you,” she explained. I shook my head, still not getting what she was saying. “Hear me out. Just before the battle of New York, Loki was brought onto the helicarrier –“

“The heli-what?” I asked. I wondered if that was like one of those gunships that had crashed into the Potomac when SHIELD fell.

“Don’t worry about it,” she waved her hands and then covered another yawn. “Loki was in a containment cell, and all the Avengers were hanging out in one of the labs. Fighting. Over nothing. They finally realized Loki was manipulating their emotions. Using magic, or his powers, or whatever.”

“So?”

“You’re exhausted, you said so yourself. Two transcontinental flights in three days, plus some emotionally heavy shit with your parents. You’re bagged, you got what? A five-hour nap this morning? Your ability to temper your interactions with the world around you is depressed because you’re tired. You’re projecting your exhaustion into the environment.” She was so excited she nearly screamed.

“No. Not possible,” I protested.

“I bet if we went back through your history, you’d find ample evidence to suggest you are capable of emotional manipulation.” I don’t think Lex realized how horrible what she had just said sounded. I’d lived most of my life assuming I was a good person, and emotional manipulation sounded ugly and unkind.

“I’m not sure what I’ve done to garner your dislike, Dr. Richmond, but I don’t run around trying to make people miserable,” I realized she was still holding a cotton swab on my arm, and wrenched it away from her.

“Shit, no. Sorry. That’s not what I meant,” she backpedalled. “It does sound evil. Totally not how I meant it, Ella. Your history says you have twin sisters. I was thinking more like, did you ever stop them from fighting, just by spending time with them or something.”

“All the time. My parents called my bedroom the UN. They said there were more successful peace treaties negotiated there than anywhere else in the world,” I responded.

“Think of something really funny,” she suggested. I heard a chuckle from the other side of the lab. “Now something that makes you mad.” Another voice grumbled. Her eyes lit up.

“Holy shit, you’ve got magic powers!” She exclaimed.

“Fuck me,” I breathed, completely horrified.

#bruce banner x ofc

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duskwoodgirl4life · 9 months

Text

Chapter 8

I haven't told Jake about the baby yet. I've been trying to work out a way to tell me but I haven't managed to get the words out. Everytime I go to tell him the words get stuck in my throat. The only person I have been able to tell is Jessy. I can't keep anything from her. She seemed quite relieved that it's not Phil's baby. She tried to hide it but it was written all over her face. Jake and Emma have been busy with their wedding planning Jake always apologizes if he's late coming round. I don't know how much more of this I can take. I can't keep seeing Jake like this even if I do love him. He's getting married to Emma so he's made his choice he wants to be with her.

Saturday night and I would normally be going out but instead I am stuck inside the apartment. I'm sitting on the sofa watching some trashy TV show, my mind drifting off to Jake. I grab my phone and do what needs to be done.

MC: Hi Jake, I can't do this face to face again. Call me a coward if you want but it's over Jake this time for good. You are getting married soon and I don't want to be that other woman. I don't want to be the woman that gets promised that you will leave your wife for me. Goodbye Jake I hope you have a happy life with Emma. I really hope that one day we can be at least friends. Love MC xx

I put my phone back down and my heart feels heavy but I know I have done the right thing. I can't carry on like this. I need to move on with my life and find someone that I want to be with that isn't getting married or who isn't already married. My first priority is this unborn baby, it's just going to be me and this little jelly bean. I can stand on my own two feet. It's time I took charge of my life instead of making stupid decisions. I'm going to show the world that I am not just some stupid emotional mess that can't live without a man.

It was the day of the wedding. I hadn't spoken or seen Jake since I sent that message to him. He tried phoning me but I didn't pick up. The jelly bean is growing so fast my bump is really showing now. I still haven't told Jake I am pregnant nor will I. This baby is mine. He has his new life now. This choice might make me selfish but I no longer care Jessy has tried to get me to tell him but I refuse to. Jessy got invited to the wedding. She tried to get me to go but I told her no. It really wouldn't be a good idea because if I do I will lose my self-control and blurt everything out. It's not far to Emma. She loves Jake and she wants to be with him.

Yes, part of me doesn't like that she's with him but I can't hold anything against her. She's a nice person. I'm trying to keep myself busy doing anything I can to keep my mind off what is happening today.

Jake's POV

Today is the day I get married not to the women of my dreams but to someone I hope I can grow to love. I've just finished getting myself ready for the wedding. I look at myself in the mirror and try to make the best of what I've got. I look at my phone and reread the last message MC ever sent me. It brings a tear to my eye and an ache in my heart. I miss her so much. I know I can not have her. She has chosen to move on and that is what I must do now. There is a knock at the door that breaks me out of my thoughts. I go to answer it and see Jessy standing there with a concerned look. "I know this is your big day and everything but I need to talk to you Jake" I stand to one side and let Jessy come in. "What's wrong Jessy? Is MC okay?" I watch as Jessy walks up and down before turning to me. "Jake I have to tell you something MC will kill me for saying but" just as Jessy was about to finish her sentence there was another knock at the door.

Before I got to answer the door it burst open and in came my mother "Jake look at my handsome boy I'm so proud" I felt my cheeks starting to turn a little red so I quickly tried to change the subject. "Mum this is Jessy, Jessy this is my mum Jill" Jessy and my mum shared a hug and greeted each other. "Is my boy all ready for the big day? I've just seen Emma and she looks beautiful in her dress" my heart feels like it's about to stop but I can't let my fears get in the way. I finish getting ready and put on my suit jacket and get ready to leave for the church. I could still feel Jessy's eyes burning into the back of my head but I didn't stop to find out what she wanted to tell me. MC is in my past now I need to move forward in my life.

Just as I made my way to the reception area the car pulled up outside the hotel. I can hear Jessy calling after me but I choose to ignore her and get in the car. As the car drives down the road I look out the window at all the passing people getting on with their day. I arrive at the church and I see so many people already there all gathered in their seats. I make my way towards the front of the aisle and sit down. I have so many emotions running around in my head I keep questioning if I am doing the right thing. Should I have tried harder to be with MC? Or should I just let her move on with her life.

It's time for me to take my place at the front and I watch Emma walk down the aisle with a big smile on her face. She reaches me and I list the veil over her head. The vicar is already to start the wedding. When he gets to the part asking if anyone has anything to say I want to speak and end this madness. When I'm about to speak up a voice from the back shouts I look back and see Jessy standing up. "Jake you can't do this you don't love her you love MC"

I turn to Emma and her face is full of so many emotions tears start to drop from her eyes "is this true Jake? Do you really still love her? I turn to Emma and take her hand. "It's not true Emma I love you" Jessy rushes towards the front of the church. "Jake you can't do this MC is pregnant with your baby" my mouth drops open I can't believe what Jessy has just told me. "What? Is that true Jessy? Is she really pregnant?" The look in Jessy's eyes says it all. "Yes Jake it's true, you need to go see you now Jake" I let go of Emma's hand and looked towards the back of the church at the doors. "I'm sorry Emma I can't do this" I let go of Emma's hands and ran out of the church.

I get so sick of watching TV that I decide to put on some music and sit by the window and draw. I haven't done this in awhile; it's something that always helped me sort through my problems. I always found it easier to draw my emotions by putting them onto paper. It's somewhat therapeutic. Lost in what I was doing my phone started ringing. I looked over and saw that it was Jessy. "Hey what's up? Wedding of the century over already" I could sense panic in Jessy's voice. "MC I'm so sorry but I told him, I stood up in front of everyone in the church and told him I'm so sorry" the phone started to fall from my hand hitting the floor. How could she do this to me? I never wanted Jake to find out and if he did I never wanted it to find out like this.

All of a sudden there was a knock at my door. I knew straight away who was standing on the other side. I walked over to the door and slowly answered it and there he was standing right in front of me. Before I could say anything Jake wrapped his arms around me I was in total shock. "Jake what are you doing? I thought you were getting married?" Jake slowly let go of me and looked my body up and down. "Why didn't you tell me MC? Why didn't you tell me you were pregnant?" I have a million answers going around my head but before I could answer them I asked Jake to come in. "Look Jake, the reason why I didn't tell you was because I didn't want to be that person that broke you and Emma up"

I watched as Jake sat down on the chair still looking at my baby bump. "I could have been there for you MC, I want to be there for you and the baby" As much as I admire Jake's words I wouldn't have wanted him to do that. "Jake this is why I didn't want to tell you you would have left Emma. It's not fair on her Jake. You can't just do that to someone Jake it's not fair" I walk over and sit near Jake as I let him think about what I've said. "But MC I still love you I always have, I want to be with you" I can't be that person not anymore I can't let him do this.

"Jake I can't let you do this as much as it hurts you should go back and marry Emma it's the right thing to do" I see a look on Jake's face that I've never seen before, a look of a man that's just lost everything. "MC I can't go back I don't want to go back I love you so much I left Emma at the church i couldn't marry her I don't love her I love you"

#duskwood #everbyte game #duskwood jake #duskwood hacker #iamjake #duskwood jake x mc #i love you jake #jake x mc #he loves me #i love you #maybe we should just be friends #just us two #just friends #just for one night #just me and you

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