#//i tried to find all the typos but it is 1 am and this is too good to wait to post

[just-some-random-blogger]

Tormented Spirit | 11

Part 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12

"Is it such a sin to stand up for yourself?" you mutter as tears blur your vision. The way he reacted was visceral, instinctive even. "You never have to stand up for yourself ever again," says Daemon, reaching a hand to you, "come."

Daemon Targaryen x Hightower!Reader | 5k+ | cw: fem!reader, reader has brown hair, wife!reader, twin!Gwayne, arranged/forced marriage, canon divergence, alternate universe, slow burn, DD:DNE, pregnancy, miscarriage, panic/anxiety attacks, suicidal ideation, attempted suicide, daddy issues/child abuse/family problems, mentions/depictions of mental/physical/psychosomatic illness, ye old misogyny, angst, typos, etc.

A/N: very brief daemon cameo here. but he'll be back next chapter. please leave comments/reblogs because they really help me with the fic. | cross posted on ao3

@arabellasleopardcoat @prettybiching @myllovellybones

Upon Daemon's abrupt leave, the king named Rhaenyra his heir and she has since then set out to look for a suitable match. Though the crown princess was loathe to leave, you envy the fact that she is permitted to leave King's Landing at all.

There is a knock on your door. "Princess?"

You open the door and smile at the knight, "Erryk."

Erryk nods and tries to smile back at you. It is hard, considering you look like you have been crying. He tries to lift your spirits by saying, "I am flattered to know I am now set apart."

You take his arm after closing your door, "you have always been set apart, good ser."

The two of you walk off and break fast together. It is silent, as it has been for two moons now. You have not told him any stories since your husband's leave. You barely speak at all, in fact. Most of the time you lock yourself in your room and he pretends he does not hear your sobs. To say he is concerned is an understatement.

And, of course, there was another matter.

Once more, in silence, you walk down the halls, this time with him trailing behind you. You are headed for your father's office. Once there, you knock on his door, and he answers.

Erryk hotly eyes Otto before nodding in regard, "Lord Hand."

"Has my daughter eaten?" is all Lord Hand ever says, to him or his brother.

"Yes," your ward replies each time.

Erryk watches as your father takes your hand and links it in his arms. He leans towards you and gentle speaks, as he has ever since you threw yourself into the sea. He even rubs your knuckles as you walk off to the maester's ward. Yet, through it all, Erryk finds no comfort in this new found gentleness your father offers. He is deeply suspicious, but for your sake, he tries to convince himself your father has changed.

Each day, without fail, you and your father visit your maester together, and each day, without fail, he worries for you more and more.

Erryk straightens up when the door to the maester's opens. He is quick to come to your side and offer his arm as you wave your father good bye. Otto does not regard you before walking off. He never does.

You smile at Erryk once it's just the two of you. The latter asks, "how are you feeling?"

You notice the lines on his forehead, and it makes your lips flatten. You tilt your head, "same as I felt yesterday," you place a hand on his cheek, "and the day before... so do not worry for me."

"Forgive me, princess," Erryk lowers his gaze and pulls your hand away, "but such a thought cannot comfort me for you have been nothing but sad since Daemon left."

You clasp your hands together, "that's hardly his fault."

"Is it not?" Erryk questions rather harshly.

"Not really..." you offer a soft smile, "none but my brother remembers the days prior to my sadness." You chuckle under your breath, "and even then, I am aware he feeds me honeyed words"

Erryk gulps when you take his arm. He wants so badly to caress your cheeks as you bring a beaming smile to your face.

"Do not torture yourself trying to make me happy," you raise your brows at him as you lead him off, "you did not meet me happy, Erryk, and it is not your job to make the impossible happen."

You examine his expression as you make your way back to your chambers. You had hoped he could find some sort of comfort in this truth, but he looks only more worried. You sigh, "would you like to know why it is I visit the maester everyday?"

Erryk knits his brows, "I only like what you want."

"..."

"And if my lady wanted it, she would have already told me why her father brings her to the maesters daily."

You carefully mutter his name.

He stares at you for a moment, hand itching to clutch your cheeks. He holds himself back but mutters your name with such a softness, it makes your skin prick with goosebumps.

Your breath hitches and you have to look away. You huff and lick your lips, "I am with child."

He stops in his tracks.

You pull away to stand before him. You feel incredibly self-conscious as his face contorts.

"My-" he starts by then bows his head, "Seven bless you for the fortunate news," he slowly looks up at you, "congratulations."

You slowly raise your brows, "you congratulate me yet appear so frightened."

"No," he shakes his head, "I am not frightened... merely... shocked."

You aimlessly look off.

"... and perhaps... worried."

You chuckle, soft and dry, "worry will do none of us any good."

"Does the prince know?"

You look back at him. You shake your head, "no one knows."

He clenches his jaw.

"I plan to tell Arryk next," you rub your belly, "soon, I will be showing... and I do not want you to be frightened."

There is much Erryk wishes to say, much he wishes to promise you. I promise to sever any hand that rises harm you or your child. I promise, so long as I breathe, to do all I am able to assure your safety. But he says nothing because he knows you will cry. He says nothing because he can sense that you are frightened.

You begin to walk off again and Erryk wordlessly follows. You look back at him, finding him in deep thought with his gaze lowered. You turn to your fingers and fidget with them, "I did not want to announce it in case it does not last."

You can feel him looking at you.

"Even now, we do not know what the future holds."

He clenches his fists tightly, "princess-"

You turn.

"-I know it means nothing, but I believe you are stronger than you think. I have seen it, your strength... and your happiness, however small and fleeting you may think it."

Your eyes water. You reach out for him and squeeze his hand, "do not hold yourself in such low regard. Your words mean everything to me, Erryk."

You walk back to your chambers and invite Erryk inside. He remains stood by the door as you get quill and parchment. You have been writing daily two letters— one, which comes easy:

𝔐𝔶 𝔡𝔢𝔞𝔯𝔢𝔰𝔱 𝔟𝔯𝔬𝔱𝔥𝔢𝔯, ℑ 𝔪𝔦𝔰𝔰 𝔶𝔬𝔲 𝔢𝔳𝔢𝔯𝔶𝔡𝔞𝔶. ℑ 𝔭𝔯𝔞𝔶 𝔣𝔬𝔯 𝔶𝔬𝔲𝔯 𝔥𝔢𝔞𝔩𝔱𝔥 𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔣𝔬𝔯𝔱𝔲𝔫𝔢 𝔞𝔰 𝔪𝔲𝔠𝔥 𝔞𝔰 ℑ 𝔭𝔯𝔞𝔶 𝔴𝔢'𝔩𝔩 𝔰𝔢𝔢 𝔢𝔞𝔠𝔥 𝔬𝔱𝔥𝔢𝔯 𝔞𝔤𝔞𝔦𝔫 𝔰𝔬𝔬𝔫. ℑ 𝔞𝔪 𝔩𝔬𝔫𝔢𝔩𝔶 𝔴𝔦𝔱𝔥𝔬𝔲𝔱 𝔶𝔬𝔲. ℑ 𝔩𝔬𝔫𝔤 𝔱𝔬 𝔳𝔦𝔰𝔦𝔱 𝔒𝔩𝔡𝔱𝔬𝔴𝔫 𝔣𝔬𝔯 𝔱𝔥𝔢𝔯𝔢 𝔦𝔰 𝔫𝔬𝔱𝔥𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔦𝔫 𝔎𝔦𝔫𝔤'𝔰 𝔏𝔞𝔫𝔡𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔣𝔬𝔯 𝔪𝔢, 𝔟𝔲𝔱 𝔣𝔞𝔱𝔥𝔢𝔯 𝔴𝔬𝔲𝔩𝔡 𝔫𝔢𝔳𝔢𝔯 𝔞𝔩𝔩𝔬𝔴 𝔦𝔱. ℑ 𝔞𝔪 𝔤𝔯𝔞𝔱𝔢𝔣𝔲𝔩 𝔣𝔬𝔯 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔰𝔴𝔢𝔢𝔱𝔦𝔢𝔰 𝔶𝔬𝔲 𝔰𝔢𝔫𝔱 𝔪𝔢. ℑ 𝔯𝔢𝔠𝔢𝔦𝔳𝔢𝔡 𝔱𝔥𝔢𝔪 𝔧𝔲𝔰𝔱 𝔶𝔢𝔰𝔱𝔢𝔯𝔡𝔞𝔶 𝔫𝔬𝔬𝔫. 𝔗𝔥𝔢𝔶 𝔞𝔯𝔢 𝔶𝔬𝔲𝔯 𝔣𝔞𝔳𝔬𝔯𝔦𝔱𝔢 𝔣𝔩𝔞𝔳𝔬𝔯 𝔥𝔬𝔴𝔢𝔳𝔢𝔯, 𝔫𝔬𝔱 𝔪𝔦𝔫𝔢. ℑ 𝔡𝔬 𝔫𝔬𝔱 𝔪𝔦𝔫𝔡. ℑ𝔱 𝔪𝔞𝔨𝔢𝔰 𝔪𝔢 𝔱𝔥𝔦𝔫𝔨 𝔬𝔣 𝔶𝔬𝔲. ℑ ��𝔬𝔳𝔢 𝔶𝔬𝔲 𝔳𝔢𝔯𝔶 𝔪𝔲𝔠𝔥. 𝔚𝔯𝔦𝔱𝔢 𝔱𝔬 𝔪𝔢 𝔴𝔥𝔢𝔫 𝔶𝔬𝔲 𝔠𝔞𝔫. 𝔏𝔬𝔳𝔢, 𝔜𝔬𝔲𝔯 𝔱𝔴𝔦𝔫 𝔰𝔦𝔰𝔱𝔢𝔯.

... and another which takes far greater effort and attempts to complete:

𝔗𝔬 𝔓𝔯𝔦𝔫𝔠𝔢 𝔇𝔞𝔢𝔪𝔬𝔫, 𝔇𝔞𝔢𝔯 𝔇𝔢𝔞𝔯 𝔇𝔞𝔢𝔪𝔬𝔫, 𝔗𝔬 𝔪𝔶 𝔥𝔲𝔰𝔟𝔞𝔫𝔡, 𝔇𝔞𝔢𝔪𝔬𝔫, 𝔇𝔢𝔞𝔯𝔢𝔰𝔱 𝔥𝔲𝔰𝔟𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔇𝔞𝔢𝔪𝔬𝔫, ℑ 𝔥𝔬𝔭𝔢 𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔭𝔯𝔞𝔶 𝔶𝔬𝔲 𝔞𝔯𝔢 𝔴𝔢𝔩𝔩. ℑ 𝔠𝔬𝔫𝔰𝔱𝔞𝔫𝔱𝔩𝔶 𝔴𝔬𝔯𝔯𝔶 𝔣𝔬𝔯 𝔶𝔬𝔲𝔯 𝔥𝔢𝔞𝔩𝔱𝔥 𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔴𝔢𝔩𝔩-𝔟𝔢𝔦𝔫𝔤. ℑ 𝔣𝔢𝔞𝔯 𝔣𝔬𝔯 𝔶𝔬𝔲𝔯 𝔰𝔞𝔣𝔢𝔱𝔶 𝔣𝔬𝔯 𝔴𝔞𝔯 𝔦𝔰 𝔱𝔯𝔢𝔞𝔠𝔥𝔢𝔯𝔬𝔲𝔰 𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔴𝔢 𝔞𝔯𝔢 𝔞𝔩𝔩 𝔣𝔩𝔢𝔰𝔥 𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔟𝔩𝔬𝔬𝔡. 𝔇𝔬 𝔫𝔬𝔱 𝔪𝔦𝔰𝔲𝔫𝔡𝔢𝔯𝔰𝔱𝔞𝔫𝔡, ℑ 𝔡𝔬 𝔫𝔬𝔱 𝔡𝔬𝔲𝔟𝔱 𝔶𝔬𝔲𝔯 𝔠𝔞𝔭𝔞𝔟𝔦𝔩𝔦𝔱𝔦𝔢𝔰. ℑ 𝔰𝔦𝔪𝔭𝔩𝔶 𝔠𝔞𝔫𝔫𝔬𝔱 𝔟𝔲𝔱 𝔥𝔢𝔩𝔭 𝔣𝔢𝔞𝔯 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔴𝔬𝔯𝔰𝔱. ℑ 𝔪𝔦𝔰𝔰 𝔶𝔬𝔲. ℑ 𝔪𝔦𝔰𝔰 𝔶𝔬𝔲 𝔦𝔫 𝔞 𝔴𝔞𝔶 ℑ 𝔥𝔞𝔳𝔢 𝔫𝔬𝔱 𝔪𝔦𝔰𝔰𝔢𝔡 𝔪𝔶 𝔟𝔯𝔬𝔱𝔥𝔢𝔯, 𝔪𝔶 𝔰𝔦𝔰𝔱𝔢𝔯, 𝔪𝔶 𝔣𝔞𝔱𝔥𝔢𝔯, 𝔬𝔯 𝔪𝔶 𝔪𝔬𝔱𝔥𝔢𝔯. ℑ 𝔪𝔦𝔰𝔰 𝔶𝔬𝔲 𝔦𝔫 𝔞 𝔴𝔞𝔶 𝔱𝔥𝔞𝔱 𝔪𝔞𝔨𝔢𝔰 𝔪𝔶 𝔣𝔬𝔬𝔡 𝔱𝔞𝔰𝔱𝔢 𝔟𝔦𝔱𝔱𝔢𝔯. ℑ 𝔪𝔦𝔰𝔰 ℭ𝔞𝔯𝔞𝔵𝔢𝔰. ℑ 𝔪𝔦𝔰𝔰 𝔥𝔬𝔴 𝔶𝔬𝔲 𝔟𝔯𝔬𝔲𝔤𝔥𝔱 𝔪𝔢 𝔬𝔫 𝔡𝔯𝔞𝔤𝔬𝔫 𝔟𝔞𝔠𝔨, 𝔢𝔳𝔢𝔫 𝔦𝔣 𝔱𝔬 𝔥𝔲𝔯𝔱 𝔪𝔢. ℑ 𝔪𝔲𝔠𝔥 𝔭𝔯𝔢𝔣𝔢𝔯 𝔟𝔢𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔥𝔲𝔯𝔱 𝔟𝔶 𝔶𝔬𝔲 𝔱𝔥𝔞𝔫 𝔫𝔬𝔱 𝔥𝔢𝔞𝔯𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔣𝔯𝔬𝔪 𝔶𝔬𝔲 𝔞𝔱 𝔞𝔩𝔩. 𝔇𝔬 𝔶𝔬𝔲 𝔪𝔦𝔰𝔰 𝔪𝔢? 𝔉𝔬𝔯𝔤𝔦𝔳𝔢 𝔪𝔢 𝔦𝔣 ℑ 𝔲𝔭𝔰𝔢𝔱 𝔶𝔬𝔲. 𝔉𝔬𝔯𝔤𝔦𝔳𝔢 𝔪𝔢 𝔣𝔬𝔯 𝔫𝔬𝔱 𝔰𝔢𝔢𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔶𝔬𝔲 𝔬𝔣𝔣. ℑ 𝔴𝔞𝔰 𝔡𝔬𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔴𝔥𝔞𝔱 𝔶𝔬𝔲 𝔞𝔰𝔨𝔢𝔡. ℑ 𝔴𝔞𝔱𝔠𝔥𝔢𝔡 𝔶𝔬𝔲 𝔣𝔩𝔶 𝔬𝔣𝔣 𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔴𝔢𝔭𝔱 𝔞𝔰 ℑ 𝔡𝔦𝔡. ℑ 𝔨𝔫𝔬𝔴 𝔶𝔬𝔲 𝔡𝔬 𝔫𝔬𝔱 𝔠𝔞𝔯𝔢, 𝔟𝔲𝔱 𝔭𝔢𝔯𝔥𝔞𝔭𝔰 𝔱𝔥𝔦𝔰 𝔴𝔦𝔩𝔩 𝔪𝔞𝔨𝔢 𝔶𝔬𝔲 𝔰𝔭𝔦𝔱𝔢 𝔪𝔢 𝔩𝔢𝔰𝔰. ℑ 𝔩𝔬𝔳𝔢 𝔶𝔬𝔲. ℑ 𝔩𝔬𝔫𝔤 𝔣𝔬𝔯 𝔶𝔬𝔲. 𝔉𝔯𝔬𝔪, 𝔖𝔦𝔫𝔠𝔢𝔯𝔢𝔩𝔶, 𝔜𝔬𝔲𝔯 𝔴𝔦𝔣𝔢 𝔏𝔞𝔡𝔶 ℌ𝔦𝔤𝔥 𝔓𝔯𝔦𝔫𝔠𝔢𝔰𝔰

In the end, this is what you sent:

𝔇𝔞𝔢𝔪𝔬𝔫, ℑ 𝔥𝔬𝔭𝔢 𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔭𝔯𝔞𝔶 𝔶𝔬𝔲 𝔞𝔯𝔢 𝔴𝔢𝔩𝔩. 𝔐𝔞𝔶 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔖𝔢𝔳𝔢𝔫 𝔟𝔩𝔢𝔰𝔰 𝔶𝔬𝔲 𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔶𝔬𝔲𝔯 𝔪𝔢𝔫 𝔴𝔦𝔱𝔥 𝔶𝔬𝔲𝔯 𝔢𝔫𝔡𝔢𝔞𝔳𝔬𝔯𝔰 𝔦𝔫 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔖𝔱𝔢𝔭𝔰𝔱𝔬𝔫𝔢𝔰. ℑ 𝔭𝔯𝔞𝔶 𝔶𝔬𝔲, ℭ𝔞𝔯𝔞𝔵𝔢𝔰, 𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔶𝔬𝔲𝔯 𝔠𝔬𝔪𝔭𝔞𝔫𝔶 𝔞𝔯𝔢 𝔥𝔢𝔞𝔩𝔱𝔥𝔶 𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔰𝔞𝔣𝔢. ℑ 𝔪𝔦𝔰𝔰 𝔶𝔬𝔲. ℑ 𝔭𝔯𝔞𝔶 𝔶𝔬𝔲 𝔣𝔦𝔫𝔡 𝔦𝔱 𝔦𝔫 𝔶𝔬𝔲 𝔱𝔬 𝔣𝔬𝔯𝔤𝔦𝔳𝔢 𝔪𝔢 𝔢𝔫𝔬𝔲𝔤𝔥 𝔱𝔬 𝔯𝔢𝔭𝔩𝔶. 𝔏𝔬𝔳𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔩𝔶, 𝔜𝔬𝔲𝔯 𝔴𝔦𝔣𝔢.

—of course, after reading it aloud to Erryk, just to be sure it was appropriate.

Erryk has only ever assured you that whatever it is you mean to tell your husband is more than appropraite, but for once, he offers that you add something. "Perhaps you should tell him that you're... you know."

You spare him a glance as you seal your letters with wax and shake your head, "why? Do you think he would return if I did?"

No. Erryk does not hold him in such a high regard.

"If he wanted to respond, he would. No matter what I have to say, I cannot change his mind if he's already set it," you stand, "and again... we don't know what the future holds."

You were right.

Woe is you who understood the inner workings of your husband. Daemon was in the middle of chewing tough, flavorless meat when he received your latest letter. You were right about not being able to change his mind about writing to you, but you were wrong in thinking your words wouldn't bring him to write back.

It would have, that is, if he ever read them.

The prince goes to Caraxes and feeds him what remained of his food. He then goes to his tent and chucks your letter along with the rest of it. He lies down in his cot and wonders what you write to him about. He wonders if you miss his touch, then touches himself to the thought of you.

A moon passes. Though you knew neither your maester nor your father would ever trick you into believing you were with child when you were not, the truth of it all only set in upon catching a glimpse of your bare body in the mirror. You had taken a warm bath in the evening because you felt sore, and upon seeing how big your breasts had become and how your belly protruded in a way it has not, you realize why you were so sore and just how real it was that you were carrying a child.

It was terrible that upon your awareness of the changes in your body, so much started to change. You found it harder to fit into your clothes as your breasts and arms required much more space than normal. Your face began to change as well, and you could scarcely recognize your own reflection with how swollen you looked. What's worse, is that your skin began to break out with painfully deep pimples.

You knew that you shouldn't be picking at them, but you couldn't help yourself, so you did, and soon your face, your neck, and even your back was littered with red blotches. You were so horrified with the way you looked, you barely left your room.

It was then Alicent began to worry.

"Just place it there," Viserys points haphazardly from where he sat.

"Here?" Alicent places the figure near some tiny stone trees.

The king looks, "no-" then comes behind her, guiding her hand from behind. Alicent tenses when his other hand comes to her waist. Viserys moves her hand and Alicent finally places the figure. The former smiles, "there."

Alicent catches her breath as the king pulls away.

Viserys sits and continues carving out the piece he had at hand. After a few moments, he notices Alicent staring at him. He quirks a brow, "something wrong, my dear?"

"Have you heard from your brother?"

He releases his block and leans back on his chair, "no."

Alicent nods, lowering her gaze.

"Why?"

She shakes her head.

"Come now," Viserys stands, "you can tell me."

Alicent looks at him when he takes her hand. She presses her lips as she feels her heart race. Her voice trembles, "m-my sister."

He hums, "has something happened to her?"

She rapidly shakes her head, "I barely see her anymore. She stays in her room days on end."

"I see," he nods, "did she and Daemon argue before he left?"

"I-" she shrugs as the king pulls away, going back to his chair, "I don't know."

Viserys spares her a look before picking up his block.

"I do know that she feels abandoned. First, Gwayne, now the prince," Alicent sighs, "she has no one."

"She has you."

She shakes her head, "she and my brother have always been close, close in a way twins are, close in a way I can never understand. She does not regard me as dearly, I don't think."

This makes his brows furrow. He tilts his head, "that is not true. Many a man would regard you dearly, Alicent."

Her throat tightens.

"And your sister is not a man," Viserys raises a hand, "does she not like to pray?"

Alicent nods slowly.

"You might want to invite her to the temple. It might cheer her up."

The girl rubs her hands together and nods. She then curtsies and heads for the door, that is, until Viserys stops her.

The king rises and takes her hand, "eager to leave, are you?"

"N- I-"

"I don't bore you, do I?"

Alicent shakes her head, "n-no! Not at all, I simply--"

"I jest," Viserys chuckles, pressing a kiss at the back of her hand, "go to her." He rubs her knuckles, "she is most fortunate to have your affections."

Alicent curtsies again and leaves.

As she makes her way to your chambers, she sees one of your servants and calls for her. The servant girl is quick to greet the lady and Alicent notices the letters in her hands.

"Have you gone to my sister?" she asks.

The servant girl nods, "yes."

"How is she?" the red haired girl sighs.

"She... is her normal self," she nods slowly.

Alicent shakes her head, "... sad?"

"Yes," she agrees.

"Who are those for?" Alicent motions to the letters she was holding.

"These?" the girl raises, "ah... your brother and good-brother, milady."

"Oh," she tilts her head slightly, "does she write to them often?"

She nods, "everyday, milady."

"Oh," she blinks. There is something about this comforts her and... hurts her. She thinks about what she confessed to the king, how she was aware you did not regard her so dearly, and yet, there was an ache in her heart to know her sister would not seek solace in her during this time.

Alicent dismisses the servant then comes to your chambers.

The Cargyll stood outside your door greets her, "my lady."

"Ser..." she nods, "Erryk?"

"Arryk, my lady."

"Ah, yes," she lowers her head, "forgive me."

"An honest mistake," he smiles, "you are here for your sister, yes?"

Alicent nods.

He turns and knocks on your door, "princess. Your sister, Lady Alicent, is here."

"I-" she steps forward and raises her voice, "wish to invite to pray at the temple."

Arryk turns to her and smiles. Alicent smiles back and they both wait for you to respond. Only, it seems you are really taking your time.

She begins to pick at her nails and the minutes pass. She sighs, turning to ser Arryk, "maybe she is asleep."

He shakes his head, "she does not sleep at this time. She is probably changing."

"How do you now? Do you go inside to check on her?"

"I only come inside when she needs help with something," he nods curtly, "or, if perhaps, I feel sense danger in the air."

Alicent tilts her head, "but how do you know?"

"The princess is a creature of habit. Though she is good at concealing her emotions, you can only hide so much from someone who watches you closely."

"How close do you watch her, ser?"

Arryk is taken aback by the question. It was in all accounts innocent; Alicent meant nothing more that what she said, but it did not feel such to the knight. It feels as though he was caught staring longingly at you right this moment. "W-What?"

He is thankful Alicent does not get to clarify herself because you finally emerge.

Alicent perks and deflates all at once upon seeing you. You smile at her through the lacy, black veil you have covering your face. She returns your embrace as you hug her, but she cannot help but knit her brows at you, or rather, that veil on you.

"You look well, sister," you smile, taking her hands.

She takes a moment before replying, "and you...'re wearing a veil."

Your smile flattens.

Alicent is quick to shake her head, "it looks good. Very stylish."

You contain your frown and take her arm, "I am most pleased to have you here."

The both of you begin to walk off and Arryk follows after. Alicent asks, "you are?"

"Of course!" you give her a look, "why, you are normally with the princess-" you raise a finger, "-which I do not have any qualms with. Most people dream to have a friendship that you both have. But I am glad you have a moment to spare for me."

Alicent's brows raise.

"Rhaenyra is doing better now, I hope?"

"Yes," she nods slowly, "she can now talk about the queen without weeping."

"Better than I ever was," you squeeze her arm.

Alicent offers you a soft smile.

The sight of her face brings you comfort, "I have missed your company, and your pretty face, my pretty girl."

She chuckles.

"You inherited our mother's beauty and left none for me—"

"That's not-"

"—especially none for Gwayne."

Alicent chortles and you giggle in response.

Arryk smiles, feels his heart clench at the tender display before him. Thank the Seven for Alicent Hightower.

"You should join us, sister," Alicent squeeze your hand, "Rhaenyra enjoys your company as much as I do."

You shake your head, offering her a kind smile, "I would not want to infect you with my bitterness."

For a moment, Alicent wants to ask if that was why you were wearing a veil, but she decides against it.

Arryk stood a few paces away from you as you prayed in the temple. Both you and your sister were on your knees with your hands clasped and eyes closed as you recited your prayers.

"Lastly," Alicent mutters, "we pray for Daemon's safety-"

You open your eyes and turn to your sister.

"-that he, as well as the Velaryons and their fleet, may find swift victory so that they may all return to their families."

You unveil yourself, "seven hear us."

"Seven hear us," Alicent ends, bowing her head for the final time.

You try not to think of the acne staring back at Alicent when she turns to you, but her initial reaction to seeing your face makes it quite hard. She does you a favor of not saying anything regarding it however.

You squeeze her hand and whisper, "there is something I must tell you."

She gives you a solemn expression.

"I am with child."

Her eyes widen and her lips part.

"Of course, father knows, but I have not told anyone, save my wards," you shake your head, "it is why my skin is littered with blemishes, and why I do not wish to come out of my room."

She frowns, calling out your name softly.

"Not even my husband knows, Alicent," you shake your head, "and I did not tell him because-" you eyes begin to water, "because the chances of a miscarriage is still high."

Alicent can feel your fear, your worry.

"But gods, I feel like I will go mad if I keep this in any longer," you break down into a sob.

She immediately seals you into an embrace. Arryk is immediately alerted by the sound of your cries. He observes for a moment but does not act, knowing you need this moment with your sister.

Alicent feels her chest tighten, not because of how tightly you embrace her, but because of how evidently you needed this hug.

"I want to go home," you mumble.

She nods, "I'll take you back to you-"

"To Oldtown," you sniffle, taking in her scent. She smelled like your mother and it made you wonder if your presence ever felt comforting for anyone, or if you just inspired distress, "this is not my home."

"Sister," she tries to look at you, "you are married to the prin-"

"And where is he?" you blurt, pulling away.

Alicent frowns at the redness of your eyes and the wobbling of your lips.

"I feel nothing but emptiness here," you place your hand on your belly, "I do not want that emptiness to manifest within me-" you shake your head, "I do not want my bitterness to kill my unborn child."

Alicent's cheeks instantly become wet.

You wipe her tears away and frown, "will you try and help me convince father to send me home?"

She stares at you, "sister..."

It is an impossible ask, and you both know it.

"Please," you brush her red locks, "he has always favored you."

Alicent does not know if that was true. She lowers her gaze and shakes her head, "I... I will try."

Your lips wobble as you watch worry manifest on her features. Guilt begins to choke you, "forgive me for asking much of you, my baby sister."

Alicent shakes her head quicker then steels herself away, "no. I-" she nods, "I want to help."

You squeeze her hands, "do not force it if it is too hard."

Later that evening, Alicent builds her nerve and visits the Lord Hand's office. The moment she enters the room, she knows she's made a mistake, for he was in a sour mood.

"What?" he snaps, head in his hand.

It was too late, however. He will be cross if she says she's changed her mind, he will be cross if she lies and presents him with something unimportant, and he will be cross if she tells him what she actually came here for. She takes a breath, might as do it, "it's regarding my sister."

Otto immediately perks, eyes squinting, "what of her?"

"She... asked me to ask you if she could... continue the rest of her term in Oldtown."

The man tilts his head, eyes widening in disbelief, "I beg your pardon?"

"She sai-"

"She told you she's carrying?" he points a finger.

Alicent tenses. She gulps, "yes."

"When?" he snaps, coming to a stand.

"J-" she watches her father walk over, "just today."

Otto's face is hard as he recalls how you begged him not to make a spectacle of your childbearing, lest your body fails you. He thinks there is something to be said about how you were now willing to divulge this information with Alicent. He raises his brows, "who else knows?"

Alicent feels cornered. It does not feel right to divulge this information.

"Did she tell Daemon?" he places his hands on her shoulder.

She stammers, "I-... I do not know."

Otto examines her daughter. He thinks she knows more than she lets on but does not pursue it further. He sighs, caressing her cheek before pulling away, "you know, you both know, I will not allow such a thing."

He walks back to his desk and Alicent takes in a deep breath.

"If she is here, then I can see to her needs."

"She needs the warmth of home," she says.

Otto sighs as he sits down. He motions vaguely to his child, "this is her home. She's married to Daemon Targaryen."

"But the prince is not here," she steps forward, "she can return when he does."

He tilts his head. He knows her boldness comes stems from her love from you. That is why he says, "and do you really think she can return if she leaves?"

Alicent's face falls. It is incredibly subtle, but Otto catches it nonetheless.

"If your sister were to go to your brother in Oldtown, what do you think the Rogue Prince will say?" her father leans on the desk, "you bore witness to how he acted when your sister came to Gwayne when he was knocked off his horse at the tourney. Do you think he will enjoy the fact she retreated to him in this time? Do you think he will care enough to retrieve her once he returns from the Stepstones? Or will he squander in brothels and sire a thousand bastards?"

She begins to pick at her nails.

"And what of your sister's child?" Otto raises a brow, "what if she loses the babe during the journey to Oldtown? What if she loses the babe once she's there? Who then is to be blamed?"

"I-"

"And what if the baby does not inherit a single Valyrian trait?" he leans back on his chair, "what if the babe looks like a Hightower and Daemon decided to accuse her of infidelity?"

"But she would never-"

"I know that," Otto raises a finger, "you know that. Does her husband share in this knowledge?"

"..."

"It would look like she left to hide her sins."

Alicent's heart begins to pound.

"Do you understand the risk, child?"

She opens her mouth but nothing comes out.

Otto sighs and stands again, "I understand you mean well."

Alicent is at the brink of tears as her father approaches her again.

"But there is no way for your sister to go to Oldtown," he ushers her to the door, "without risking much." Lord Hand opens the door and gives his daughter one last, "not unless the king allows such a thing."

Alicent takes in her father's features. He smiles softly at her. Her stomach feels uneasy.

"Go to bed, Alicent," he strokes her hair, "your sister is mine to worry about, not yours."

The door closes.

It was a shock that Alicent came to you the next day, telling you that you were set to leave for Oldtown at noon. You were overjoyed and sealed your sister into the tightest hugs, "I can't believe you convinced father!"

Alicent rubs your back, softly muttering, "...I really didn't."

"Oh but you did," you chuckled in between sobs, "I owe you my first born's life."

She pulls away and shakes her head, "d-don't- don't say that."

You frown at the worry that over her face. You shake your head, "very well. Forgive me for burdening you with such a thought."

So it was that you left that day for Oldtown. You were grateful the king graciously allowed you to bring both your wards along with you. You would would have been less so, had you known Alicent requested it specifically, even less had known it was not actually your father that she had convinced but the king himself, and less than that to know she was able to do so because she had been visiting him oft since the queen's passing. You would outright abhor it had you known Alicent's relationship with Viserys was borne from your father's encouragement.

Your unawareness of this made you deeply cherish the moment you saw your twin brother's face. You were exhausted from the travel, much more than usual, and yet an energy burned within you when you saw Oldtown's heir.

Gwayne outright laughed and pointed at you as you sobbed on your way over to him, "what in god's name is on your face, twin?"

You felt nothing but affection from his blatant mockery.

He coos as he pulls you into a hug once you are close enough, "now, now. I cannot have a princess weeping in my arms." He is relieved by the warmth of your being. He has not been embraced so tenderly you've been separated. "Not an ugly one at least."

"I am with child, you miscreant," you mutter against his chest.

Gwayne's rubs your back as his face hardens with worry, "I know. Father wrote to me."

You sniffle and pull away. You glare at him, "yet you still dare to be mean to your beloved sister?"

"Spare me your tears," he says rather genuinely as takes in your wet face, "your cry baby attitude will get nowhere with me."

Your lips wobble at the sentiment.

Gwayne actually starts feeling bad, but then you release a soft laugh.

"You fucking rat," you scratch your eyes as you break into a giggle.

Your twin gasps, turning to your wards who were approaching. Lord Hightower raises a brow at them, "are you aware your lady has a vulgar mouth on her?"

"Please, Gwayne," you shake your head, "I'm a fucking princess."

The laugh that leaves your brother is ugly, loud, and real.

Yes, your unawareness made you cherish every moment you spend in Oldtown. It was still hard to be with child; there were the food aversions and cravings, soreness, sickness, and mood swings that haunted you, but the spirit of emptiness remained in King's Landing. Now that you were free from the scrutiny of court, from the politicking of your father, there was a lightness within you that you had not felt in a long time.

You recounted the things you and Gwayne used to do when you were younger, then caught yourself imagining your child doing the same. Suddenly, you didn't feel so terrified by the thought of bringing a child into this world. The Cargyll twins can attest to the shift in your demeanor.

It was a shame that a moon's worth of happiness disappeared in an instant all because of a single letter.

Gwayne comes to a stand from his spot upon seeing you react so physically to whatever it was you were reading. The Cargyll twins who were breaking fast with both of you, stand to attention as well.

You clutch your chest as your other hand crushes the letter you just read.

"What is it?" your brother asks, "what has happened?"

"It's Alicent," you feel your chest tighten.

Gwayne comes to your side, placing a hand on your shoulder. He is alarmed by your tension, "sister, sister. Breathe."

You clutch your belly. It's much pronounced now, and you know it adds to your struggle to breathe.

"Breathe," your twin repeats, "that's it."

You manage to calm yourself, but soon tears begin to fall from your eyes, "Gwayne."

"Yes, I'm Gwayne," he squeezes your shoulder, "what's happened to Alicent?"

You shake your head and look up at him, "she's getting married."

The man pulls his head back. His brows knit, "married? To whom?"

Your breath hitches as you push yourself up to a stand, "to the king."

Whatever confusion he had regarding your reaction instantly dissipates. This match reeked of politicking, politicking from the Hand of the King. Gwayne clenches his jaw as helps you up. He feels the same emotions he did upon learning of your own betrothal. History was repeating itself, yet now, your brother's chest is tighter. He had always believed your father wouldn't be so cruel to willingly give you to the Rogue Prince, but now... he realizes this was something he wanted to believe.

Gwayne calls your name out as you begin to walk off, "where are you going?"

"Where do you think?" you snap.

You despise every second spent on the way back to King's Landing. You are exhausted when you return and you are loathe to see your father waiting for you.

Otto calls your name and greets you with a smile. His glee is genuine. He is wholeheartedly pleased to see how much better you look from your visit to Oldtown, "I am glad to see time with your twin has livened you, my girl."

As true as that may be, it was your anger that livened you in this moment. You despise him as he takes your cheeks and kisses your forehead. You destest him as he grins.

"I have missed you."

You wish you hated him more as not to be so affected by this. Your nostrils flare, "where is my sister?"

His face falls slightly at your complete ignorance to his greeting. He pulls away, "getting ready for her nuptials."

You stare at him. The burst of affection he had for your wanes enough for him to recognize your look, your glare. It was written all over. Anger. Defiance. Hurt. It could not be contained.

"Am I not enough for you, father?" you quip under your breath as your eyes begin to water.

Otto looks around then takes your hand, "let us speak insi-"

"Is it not enough?!" you break free from his hold. You seethe, "—that I am about to deliver you a royal grandchild and you should require my baby sister to do the sa-"

"She is not a baby," he quips.

You clench your jaw, "she just turned ten and-"

"She is in ripe marrying age."

You turn away from him. You are about to walk away, and he knows it. He cannot stand it.

"She did this so you could go to Oldtown," he snaps, pointing an accusing finger at you.

You give the Hand one last look before going to your sister.

Alicent is equally overjoyed and worried by your appearance. Just as she assures you that you didn't have to come all this way, you silence her by telling her, "it is not too late."

Your sister is frozen in her spot as you explain the plans you have for her to escape her marriage with the king. She can tell that you have thought about it greatly, considering the speed and detail in which you speak it. The only thing that manages to quiet you is the way she says, "it is done."

"W-what?"

"I am decided," Alicent shakes her head as her eyes begin to water, "do you not notice how your plans to save me demand your suffering?"

Your brows knit, "I will suffer no more than I already do."

She sniffles as she speaks your name, "when mother died... I watched you writhe in pain. None but Gwayne ever offered you true comfort."

"And you!" you clutch your cheeks, "you foolish girl! Do you not understand, I wish to free you from-"

"We are all of us destined to be a prisoner," Alicent mutters as tears fall from her eyes, "us, more than most. If not the king, I will be married off to another man I do not want."

You clench your jaw, "Ali-"

"At least if I am queen, I can save you from Daemon."

Your heart stops. You rest your forehead on hers, "you stupid little girl."

Your words burn her. She watches as you pull away, finding the tears staining your cheeks.

"If you are doing this for me, and you marry him... I will never speak to you again."

Her face drops.

"Did I not tell you that I should be the one to do such things for you?"

"Sister," she takes your hand, "... I am stronger than you."

"... oh."

"I can help."

You lower your gaze and nod. You pull away from her and walk away.

Less than a fortnight later, your sister marries the king and is proclaimed the new Queen of the Seven Realms.

[theereina]

Bad News Pt. 2

Pairing: Terry Richmond x Plus Size Fem Black!OC "Bella"

Wordcount: +1.4K

Warnings: MDNI (18+) mature content, such as cursing, no smut, heavily dialogue-centered, mental health mentioned (anxiety), *emotional distress*, angst, heartbreak, chronic illnesses mentioned, health conditions mentioned (c*ncer, PCOS, endometriosis), infertility, slight verbal ab*se

A/N¹: Remember, I just got back into writing. I'm open to critiques, but I am a little 🤏🏽 sensitive about my writing. Please, don't be too harsh.🥺 Feel free to bring my attention to any typos. Divider by @firefly-graphics. Also, this work is not to be plagiarized or reposted (on any site other than here on Tumblr). I do NOT give consent for any form of republishing or rewriting.

A/N²: I am not a medical doctor. Please, forgive me if my knowledge of any of the mentioned medical conditions is incorrect.

Bad News Pt. 1=> 😢

Walking into the room, my heart was crushed even further. All of the feelings I wish I could explain; I couldn't. Terry and his bags were gone. I hadn't even heard him leave. He didn't even care enough to at least say goodbye. After all these years, I wasn't worth a goodbye. Two seconds just solidified that this relationship wasn't worth any more of my energy.

I couldn't understand it. How did we get here? Had he always been like this? Was I that blind? I guess I was so busy trying to find love that I forgot the most important rule— love wasn't supposed to hurt. Then again, every version of love I've experienced was painful, manipulative, abusive, and damaging. So, maybe I found what I was familiar with. I mean, why else would I be so comfortable putting up with this?

But, what do I do now?

*2 hours later

The room was covered in crumpled and torn pieces of notebook paper. I have tried and tried to write this letter. My hands were stiff, and my head was throbbing. I just wanted him to know how I felt because my mind was already made up. I'm done, and this is over.

If he would've just listened, we wouldn't be in this predicament. If he hadn't said those words, there would still be hope in my eyes and love in my heart.

Better yet, fuck this and fuck him. He doesn't deserve a letter. This doesn't concern him anymore. I've already changed my flight for tomorrow morning. I leave on the first flight out. Since I no longer have anything to say to him, there is no need to wait. I can return to the West Coast and be at home with my Godmother and Godsister when I receive the news.

*The next day

“I will never like flying’. I don't care!” I said stepping out of the bathroom after showering. I was dressed in a pair of sweats and a plain black T-shirt. I had wrapped a scarf around my head to protect my hair during my shower.

My Godsister, Shante, was waiting for me. She was relaxed on the bed with her back against the headboard. Her satin black bonnet and black fluffy robe made her look so much like her grandmother. “What?” she asked turning her head towards me. “You look like Nana Elsie!” I laughed into my hand. “Shut up!” she said slinging one of the pillows at me.

I walked to the bed and sat on the edge closest to me. I was tired. I knew why she was in here. She wanted to make sure I was okay. Honestly, I wasn't. My life was shit right now. Leaving Terry was just another stab to the heart. All I could do was pray to God that I didn't lose anymore. I couldn't possibly see myself being any lower than this.

“You wanna talk?” Shante asked rolling on her side facing my back. “Not really, I just wanna wait until they call,” I said solemnly. My shoulders were beginning to feel heavy again. I didn't want to think about what the doctor would say. I already knew this day was coming.

After years of medical neglect and misdiagnoses, I was finally given a proper diagnosis of both endometriosis and PCOS. I had been ignored for years when I complained of a forever-growing mountain of signs that something was wrong. I was told to “lose weight” to alleviate my symptoms. When I lost the weight, nothing changed. Some symptoms even seemed to get worse.

I had grown tired of all the referrals and guesses. I had explained to my original primary care physician years ago that I suspected that I had PCOS. It was dismissed as anxiety and medical hysteria. I tried again with three other physicians to be met with the same fate— try to lose weight, take this metformin, exercise daily, change your diet, etc.

This could have been treated years ago if someone would have just listened.

*3 hours later

I was in the kitchen eating when my cell phone rang. I picked it up thinking it was the call I had been dreading. I was eager to get this over with. Just say it, and let's move on.

“Hello, this is Bella,” I mumbled into the phone. I was on the edge again. Trying my hardest to breathe and stay calm. “Bell, where are you?” asked Terry. “Terry?” I asked pulling the phone away from my ear and looking at it. Fuck! Why didn't I look before answering? Why didn't I block him?

“Bella, I'm s—,” he started to speak before I interrupted him. “Save it. I… I don't care anymore,” I said through tears. “Bells, I was—,” he started again. “No,” I said sobbing into the phone. “Could you just—!” he yelled into the phone. That was it. I didn't have to deal with this. I hung up the phone and laid it on the table in front of me.

Pushing the plate away, I laid across my arms crying with my head down. My Godmother and Godsister were both gone to work. That left me alone once again with my emotions— all of them.

ring ring ring

Not again. I picked up the phone in anger. “I don't want to talk to you!” I screamed into the phone. “Isabella? It's Dr. Moore. We need to speak about scheduling your surgery immediately,” he said in a startled tone. “I'm sorry, Dr. Moore. I'm having a…,” I said taking a deep breath. “I can call back if—,” he said. “No!” I blurted out. “Sorry. Please, tell me now,” I whimpered. I was flying between emotions faster than my body could manage.

“Well, honey. I'm sorry to bring you such bad news at this time, but we're going to need to remove your left ovary. The cysts were quite large, and… Unfortunately, the biopsy indicated they were cancerous. The safest option is to remove the affected ovary and all endometriosis deposits. Later on, we can discuss any further changes,” he said. “Changes?” I questioned while sniffling. “If it progresses any further, we may have to perform a hysterectomy.” Dr. Moore continued to talk, but I had dissociated from the conversation. This was it.

My mind was overflowing with questions. Will I be able to have kids? Would this even get rid of the cancer? If it did, would it come back? Would life ever be normal for me?

I don't know. I'll probably never know.

*Later in the day

ring ring ring

Hours had passed since the call ended. I didn't want to talk. I didn't want to move. I didn't want to think. I had planned my whole life around me and Terry's relationship— kids, a house, a minivan, a dog, all of it. Now, everything was gone. Maybe my mother was right, I am cursed.

ring ring ring

“Who is it?” I sobbed into the phone. “It's me, Bella. Baby, can you please just listen to me?” Terry pleaded over the phone. “Why, huh? What’s there to listen to? You said everything you needed to say,” I yelled. All of my feelings were being overshadowed by my anger.

“I didn't mean it, Bella. That wasn't supposed to happen. I love you. You know that!” Terry yelled. “I don't know that, Terry. If you loved me, you wouldn't have said it. You meant it with all your fucking heart. You stood on it when you left without saying a word. No goodbye. No sorry. Nothing. That's not love,” I blurted out. I was beyond tired of holding my tongue. “Stop being so fuckin' childish right now and use your brain. You're always so damn emoti—,” he said cutting himself off. “Nah, say it! I'm too fucking emotional, huh? Ain't that right, Terry?” I screamed again. Tears were streaming down my face falling onto the kitchen table.

“I’m always sick, and… and I'm… I'm always emotional. That's what you… that's what you said, right? THEN, WHY THE FUCK ARE YOU WITH ME?!” I screamed as loud as I could. I threw the phone across the room. It hit the wall and shattered. Good. No more phone calls. No more doctors. No more — Terry.

Taglist: @avoidthings @brattyfics @slutsareteacherstoo @pocketsizedpanther

@nahimjustfeelingit-writes @blowmymbackout @5headsupremacist @creartivefairy

@insidefeelingofanadult @revealingco @keyaho @jimmybutlrr @gg-trini

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[alivegirldetectiveagency]

The show gives us very little information about edwin’s life. i’m pretty sure all we know is (1) he read detective stories (2) is father would call crystal a bobtail (3) he was presumably bullied (i say presumably because the ritual could have been a first incident but i find that unlikely just cause. the severity of it)

i hope we learn a little more if we get a season 2 because i think edwins childhood would give interesting insight into him (this goes for all the characters actually) but i think we can make a lot of assumptions about what his life was like based off the time period

(disclaimer: i am not an expert by any stretch of the imagination, so i apologize for any inaccuracies)(and for any typos)

this post got kinda long so the rest is under the cut

edwin lived from 1900-1916 which mostly encompasses the edwardian era (1901-1910). for the purposes of this post i will be talking as if it was all edwardian for simplicity and also because the last few years of the victorian era and the first few years after edward vii would have been very similar. i am also operating under the assumption the paynes were upper class because (1) vibes (2) edwin is very formal which would have been emphasized the most in the upper classes (3) he had the time and money to go to boarding school which still wasn’t very accessible (although education was growing in importance)

the importance of childhood was growing in the era and there was a lot more leisure time and entertainment. still, etiquette and manners were very important so there would have had the “seen and not heard” attitude towards children. in upper class families, child rearing would have been done by a nanny and not the mother. the father as head of the house would have been strict and interacted little with the children. so edwin probably saw very little of his parents while growing up even before boarding school. since edwin was a son his father might have taken him out for things like shooting/hunting but that would have been just him and his father (and brothers if he had any). also edwin does Not seem like he would have enjoyed that so i dunno if much bonding would have occurred during those outings. family time in general would be rather brief. He would have had more time spent with siblings his age since younger children would have spent most of their time in the nursery/with the nanny.

i’m going to brush past the school life part because i do not know much about it other than that he would have started at st Hilarions around 13. and that i’m pretty sure corporal punishment was used in boarding schools like it at the time? (not entirely sure on that front it depends on if the school is state sponsored) we can infer from the show that edwin did not have a Great time at school but i don’t know what the specifics would have been like

etiquette was very very important. i don’t think the edwardian era was quite as strict as the victorian era but there was still a LOT of social expectations. including the perfect posture george rexstrew does as edwin. etiquette would also include addressing everyone properly and limited affection. you also wouldn’t really touch anyone! not to get their attention or shake hands in greeting or clapping someone on the back. Self control was everything even in times of excitement or distress. Social classes were very strict although the industrial revolution created the neavue riche so social mobility was not impossible. new rich families often tried to adapt the traditions of the (aristocratic) upper class but integration was slooow. (Middle class families would adopt trends from the upper classes too). while formality was important, language in general was simplifying partially due to mass newspapers. if you’ve ever read Oliver Twist or another Dickens story, the language is very verbose and hard to follow which is par the course for victorian literature but less so for edwardian literature.

speaking of literature and entertainment we know edwin liked detective stories. he reads a max carrados story (which started in 1914) to charles and in edwin’s death flashback you see him with a detective penny/dime novel (in the scene you can read “The Aldine Tip Top Tales, High Hat Harry” and google tells me the rest of the title is “The Base Ball Detective”). Edwin probably also read Sherlock Holmes which was still popular. Growing up he might have Peter Pan/Peter and Wendy (the title changed after its initial publishing in 1904) and The Tale of Peter Rabbit (1902). And more short stories and dime novels (like the Aldine company ones) since they were getting very popular at the time. Entertainments like the Winter Gardens and Pleasure Beach in Blackpool were also growing popularity. but generally outdoor upper class entertainment would have been tennis, hunting, or racing. (fun fact the 1908 summer olympics was in london so edwin might have watched it as a child!) there also would have been a lot of dinner parties but those would have been for the parents to maintain or increase social status and not necessarily include the children.

overall edwin’s childhood probably included a lot of extravagant entertainment. He would not have spent much time with his parent so unless edwin had siblings his early childhood would have probably been lonely. canon does not suggest he really made friends while in school either.

Canon and fanon has touched on how edwin’s social skills took a hit from being in hell for 70 years (which is definitely true). But on top of just escaping hell, edwin is using knowledge/skills from a vastly different social era when he first meets charles. it must have been really jarring the first few years of being friends because charles’s ideas/experiences with friendship were WILDLY different than edwin’s

[delicatebarness]

i think he knows | chapter three

Summary: Reader and Bucky get caught. Twice.

Warnings: Probably just Bucky smoking. If you think there is any then please let me know so I can add it.

Word Count: 1792

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A/N: Three chapters in one day, who am I? Also, this one hasn't been proofread so there most likely will be typos and/or mistakes.

Tags: @bigtreefest | @caplanbuckybarnes | @angelbabyyy99 | @mega-kittyglitter-1

You jumped at the unexpected visitor, your heart began to race as you recognized Bucky now standing near your window, in your bedroom. Once again, his signature smirk found its way across his lips. You were momentarily speechless as his scent and aura filled the room.

“Bucky?” you asked, you tried to keep your voice steady and quiet, despite the rush of adrenaline running through you. “What are you doing here?” Rushing over to the window, you pushed Bucky to the side slightly so you could close it along with your curtain. You glanced over to Peter’s bedroom window while you pulled the curtains. You were met with dark brown eyes staring back at you. There was no way that he didn’t see the senior climbing in, or standing right there. 

Bucky never took his eyes off you, stepping closer the second you stopped messing with the curtains. “I couldn’t resist,” his voice was low and smooth. “I told you I’d see you around.” Your mind began to race, how do you respond to an unsuspected visit like this? You knew Steve would feel betrayed if he walked back in here. There was a part of you that was torn between the excitement of having Bucky so close and the choice you had made less than two minutes ago.

“I don’t think this is a good idea, Bucky,” Taking a step back, you added a distance between you two. “ Steve doesn’t want me to see you.”

You sensed that you just added fuel to the fire Bucky had created as his smirk widened and closed the gap between the two of you. “As far as I can see, Sunshine, Stevie isn’t here. Is he?” Placing a finger under your chin, he tilted your head up to make eye contact with you. For the second time that day, you shook your head at him. “No, just you and me.”

Despite your judgment call merely moments ago, there was no way to deny the pull he had on you. With all the warnings ringing through your head, both in your voice and Steve’s, you still couldn't help but feel a magnetic pull towards him. 

“You should go,” you tried to sound firm but your voice wavered. “This isn���t right.” You jolted your head slightly so it was no longer being held by his finger. His expression softened, letting out a sigh while gently tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear.

“Maybe it’s not right,” Bucky admitted, his voice was barely a whisper. You lifted your head to try and get a read on his face. “But, it feels right, doesn’t it?”

You hesitated in your response, you could hear the rational voice of Steve in your head but Bucky’s touch was sending shivers down your spine. It was proving to be incredibly difficult to resist him. 

Just as you were about to respond, a knocking at your bedroom door ripped you both from your intense stare out. The knocks were closely followed by Steve’s voice calling your name. You started to panic as you turned to face the door, realizing that Steve could walk in at any second and find Bucky standing in your room. 

“This guy,” Muttering under his breath, you sensed a newfound panic coming from Bucky, his eyes had widened and they were scanning the room for suitable hiding spots. Without another thought you hurried Bucky toward the window and gestured for him to climb back down. He hesitated for a moment, looking back at you before whispering, “Goodnight Sunshine.” You replied with a quick, “Goodnight James.” as he started his climb. 

You took deep breaths to try and steady your pulse as Steve entered your room, he furrowed in confusion as he took in the sight of you at the window.

“Dinner’s ready, dad’s impatient,” He eyes you skeptically for a moment before, pointing towards the window. “I hope you’re closing that, Mom will go crazy if she smells that breeze.” You nodded in response to him, forcing a smile, you watched as he started to make his way down to the dinner table. Turning back to the window, you watched as Bucky walked his motorbike down the street, catching the moment he glanced back up at your window. 

So much for staying away.

~

The next afternoon, you sat in the school library buried beneath a stack of textbooks and sheets of class notes. It had been quiet for the most part, you were focused on your schoolwork, so focused you never sensed someone sitting down beside you. 

“Has anyone ever told you your concentration face is adorable?” You looked up to find Bucky sitting in the chair next to you, his face so close you’re almost bumping noses. Your heart skipped a beat at the sight of him, you thought maybe the library would have been your safe space. No Steve telling you what, when, where, why, or how, and no Bucky filling you with both dread and excitement. Yet, here one of them was. 

“There’s never been anyone not scared of my brother enough to.” You confessed one of the few things that truly annoyed you about being the youngest Rogers. You watched as a glint appeared in his eyes as he shrugged.

“Your concentration face is adorable.” He spoke with confidence, proving to you that Steve does not instill any fear in him. You couldn’t help but notice his casual glance over your lips as you smiled at his comment. You’ve read enough books and watched enough shows to know what that look meant. Was he going to do it? Now? Here? 

“We shouldn’t be doing this,” Your voice was barely a whisper as you watched his head tilt slightly to the side, his hand coming up to hold your cheek just like at his locker. His gaze never left your lips as his smirk once again appeared. 

“It feels like we should,” You found yourself melting under his touch, every second that passed with his skin against yours, you felt yourself weakening. Just as you were about to give in to temptation, a throat being cleared broke you from your haze. 

Looking up you found Peter sitting back in the seat across from you, the look of suspicion was evident as he looked between you and Bucky with curiosity and confusion. “Pete!” You exclaimed, you tried to keep your voice calm and light but the panic that rose from your chest turned it into a high-pitched squeal. 

“Found the book we needed for Bio,” his reply was casual, despite being the only other person who knew about Bucky’s visit last night but not yet knowing why. “Didn’t expect this when I came back.” Using his pen, he gestured between you and Bucky. 

A sinking feeling started to settle in your stomach, you knew that you had to explain to Peter what he saw last night. You worried that his suspicions could make this whole thing more complicated than it already was, his loyalty to Steve was also a factor you had to take into account. It wasn’t looking good on your end. 

Bucky left shortly after Peter referred to his presence, he didn’t make up any excuses for why he was leaving. He knew he already was risking a lot just by letting Peter see what almost happened. Once he was out of the library, you explained everything to Peter. Told him truthfully about how you were feeling, what happened the night before, and what he had walked into. 

~

You decided that morning that you wanted to stay back late and use the library to study, Steve offered to wait back for you to drive you home but you declined. He had plans with Sharon that night and didn’t want to keep them waiting. The town was small enough for you to walk home and get there way before dark anyway. 

The hallways were empty now, your footsteps echoed as you found your way toward the exit. Just as you walked out of the front doors of the school, you were greeted by Bucky leaning against the wall of the steps with a cigarette hanging from his lips. For a split second, you found yourself thinking about how you’d like to be that cigarette. Your cheeks flushing at the thought. 

“What are you still doing here?” You asked, looking around the almost empty parking lot. You admired him as he walked down the steps and used the bins provided to put out and dispose of the cigarette. He motioned toward his bike with the helmet he carried in his left hand. 

“Noticed you didn’t go home with Steve, or, leave with that Wanda or Peter you hang around with, so,” Once again, he gestured toward the bike. “Guessed you were still at the library and in need of a ride home.” Surprised as was an understatement, you couldn’t grasp onto the idea that this person, waited almost two hours extra after the last bell to offer you a ride home. You still hesitated to accept, you had never rode on a motorbike before. Everyone was quick to explain to you the dangers of driving and riding them from a young age. Also, it would be Bucky driving and someone could see you. 

“I, I don’t know,” Your newfound stutter had made a return as Bucky stepped closer to you, handing the helmet to you while taking your textbooks. 

“Come on, Sunshine, it’s late,” He sighed as he started to walk through the parking lot. “I promise I’ll get you home safe.” 

In that moment of uncertainty, his words offered a sense of reassurance that allowed you to nod in agreement with him. You put the helmet on as you walked, clipping it into place, you realized that he only had one with him. He lifted the seat to reveal an area for your textbooks to hide, but still no helmet. 

“Woah, what are you doing?” He exclaimed, reaching out and placing a hand on top of the helmet, stopping you from taking it off further. “We’ve got to make sure that pretty head of yours is protected.” Moving his hand down to your chin, he clipped it back together.

“But, what about-” He gave you a stern look, placing a finger over your lips to cut you off. Once he knew you wouldn’t protest anymore, he helped you climb onto the bike. After he explained some basic safety rules to you, the engine began to roar. The unfamiliar vibrations startled you, wrapping your arms tighter around Bucky’s torso. 

As you clung onto Bucky, you pushed aside your doubts and let yourself enjoy the thrill of both riding a motorbike and being alone with Bucky.

---

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[tales-of-wocdes]

Chapter 2 is live! In total (including code inside text), it is about 48 k words. This brings the total word count to ~103.5 k.

This chapter takes off right where chapter 1 ended. The main part is about character customization. I have tried to make it make some sense and be a part of the narrative. I am not sure I succeeded, but I leave that up to you all to decide. And MC may meet someone new, maybe someone in silver :D

Let me know what you if you find bugs/errors! Also if there is something you would really want in the character customization! Please do note that stuff like height and body type will be left for later, when MC is older.

I updated twine and some stuff got messed up in the template, so there could be stuff wrong.The "resume game" button in the main menu stopped working but since saves seem to work, I just took that out.

Other things:

Some typo fixes

New character profile menu structure implemented (barebones)

Codex structure slightly updated

Notifications are now a thing, they appear to inform you about new things in the menu (like a character profile)

Rudimentary approval system added (so far Havard and Lexia): it is not actually possible to make them dislike you (at least for now), only worried about you.

The prologue has some added visual effects in the repetitive parts.

Font on chapter screens has been changed

Minor chapter 1 additions to a few scenes.

The character profile menu and approval system mean that starting a new game is needed for them to work properly (skipping to C1 is fine)

Rough word counts per chapter have been calculated and added to the itch io page and demo version page inside the game.

Please report any bugs, mistakes etc. See feedback page at the end of the demo.

[sweetieviktor]

"take me back to the night we met", feat. viktor.

summary: you knew he was dieing, but seeing him using shimmer was too much to bare . based on the song "the night we met", by lord huron.

word count: 720.

content warning: season 1, act 3 spoilers! idk if shimmer use count as a cw, but anyways this is angst and it doesn't have a happy ending!

author notes: there's so much time since i've written fanfiction!! but i loved doind this one and i swear that i cried while writing this. and this may be very ooc and doesn't match the scenes in season 1, act 3, but i dont have time to watch it again now and i was so hyped up bcs of season 2 that i just had to write something, yk? also, there may be some typos or grammar errors even though i re-read this like 3 times i think lol. but yeah, here it is!

you came back to his lab expecting to see him doing good, maybe working on his research, too focused on any stuff he was doing at the moment and not noticing you by the door, but he wasn't in there, or so it looked like.

he was hunched over his desk, in his hands was a glass tube, the remaining of the purple liquid shimmering in the dark room, illuminating just enough to draw his weak silhouette amongst the shadows.

“viktor…?” was everything you said while getting closer to him, walking with slow steps, trying to make no sounds to alarm him.

“stop.” raising a hand, that was all he said.

just as you were told, you stopped on your tracks, observing that, his once perfect hand, was now painted in a shade of purple, the same that was inside the glass recipient.

it can't be. right?

“what you did to yourself?”

“i did what needed to be done.” he was so baretoned, you didn't understand why he seemed so rude, so crude, so… unlike him.

when his words settled in, it felt like your stomach was turning, wrapping itself around your guts, making you sick. you felt sick, for him.

“please, please, viktor, don't tell me that you're using sh-” “yes.”

of course you knew about his condition, of course you knew he wasn't doing good at all, and mostly, you knew that things were meant to end, one way or another. but you didn't think he would kill himself like this.

and this was all you needed to break.

“why you didn't told me? i could have helped you, we could find a way to work through it,” the tears started to prick on your eyes, your voice breaking, the anger at yourself pooling into your core. “you wouldn't need to use shimmer, vik...”

the feeling that the universe stole and took all that once mattered to you was what drove you insane. the feeling that you could make things different, make things better, the oh so simple solution that you could find, if only he had told you.

“it’s not that easy! you wouldn't understand if i told you sooner. no one would understand it, even if they tried really hard to.” he turned his head towards your direction, looking at your face for a brief second, before turning his gaze back to the ground, his purple irises trying to focus on something that wasn't your saddened face, now, feeling his own eyes burning, burning even more than the blood running in his veins. “we are in piltover, the city of progress, and yet, i am stuck behind, and i'm dieing. so, i needed to do something, and i did.”

“what you don’t understand is that you're destroying yourself, viktor. destroying yourself so slowly that it almost feels like torture. i fear that i wouldn't be able to see you for another day.” you sobbed, the tears rolling down and he didn't dare to look at your eyes again, he knew that you were crying. he knew it and he couldn't bear the thought that he was the one that made you cry. “if there is a god somewhere, i wish they could turn back time and take me back to the night we met. maybe things could be different, right?”

looking at him, a weak, nervous smile was all you could get out while crying, thinking to yourself when things started to get this wrong and how you let it happen, without even realizing what was wrong. how could you let him do this to himself?

your body was shaking, it felt like the whole world was trembling. the nonstoping thoughts hammering your head, your heart a mile per minute, the air in your lungs wasn't enough. everything, everything seemed like it was crushing down on you, right in this moment.

“i'm sorry. i'm so sorry... i need to go. now.”

you needed to get out of here, you needed to breathe.

you headed back to the door, wishing that some cold breeze would cool you down, would just stop your mind and racing heart. wishing for him to be fine again. praying for any and all gods that lived in the skies and beyond, praying for him to be alive. just for a bit more.

[n3ptoonz]

WOULD U BE DOWN TO WRITE BI-HAN IN AN ARRANGED MARRIAGE WITH THE DAUGHTER OF A GRANDMASTER FROM ANOTHER CLAN?

absolutely not are you cra- gunshots

'That Can Be Arranged'

Pairing: Bi Han/F!Reader

Fandom: Mortal Kombat 1 (2023)

Warnings/tags: None, angst if you squint, Bi Han sucks at feelings but it's all good, reader has an older brother, reader's father is a cryomancer, reader got jokes, Bi Han in love, sphinx has to stop writing after midnight, 3/4 proofread might be some typos in this mf

Word count: 2.5k+

Bi Han was to accept an arranged marriage to bring peace to the centuries long clan war between the Lin Kuei and your clan; both have Grandmasters that wield the power of cryomancy. Overwhelmed with stress and self doubt, he snuck away to his favorite place to train and meditate and has been going there ever since before time ran out.

You were to be the one to get married in order to bring peace to the two clans. You didn't even know the name of the enemy clan due to your father favoring your older brother more your whole life. Overwhelmed with stress and being fed up with both of them constantly in your ear, you snuck out to wander around and see what or who you could find.

You were the rebel between you and your brother. There's no surprise he's favored more, but it's mostly because he's older and has to carry on the title once your father passes. You kept questioning your father, asking why not just find him a wife? And it was always the same old "but war" "but this" "but that", and tried to instill you with fake confidence to believe you were the only way peace could be achieved.

It was a beautiful night with clear skies and shining stars. The world was quiet. The more you walked through the woods, the more you appreciated the outside before you had to be bound to the enemy clan's temple. You stopped in your tracks at the sound of what sounded like someone exercising. There were grunts and shouts only a fighter would have between each move. You quietly got closer, peeking behind a tree to see a tall, handsome man with a defined body under the traditional fighting attire he wore.

You just sat and watched him channel his energy into his punches and kicks. The way his muscles tensed when he wasn't getting a move right was fascinating. You were always sheltered since childhood, so finding another person on without your father's influence was the absolute highlight of your night.

He stopped for a moment, standing straight up and looking in your direction. He saw your shadow move right as you hid behind the tree.

"Can I help you?" he said. His voice was deep and raspy, and he asked that question like you just bothered him. He figured you weren't initially a threat due to the fact that he's usually just attacked by his enemies, while you hid. Also he could see a bit of your flared sleeve.

You peeked from behind the tree before fully stepping out, a sheepish smile on your face.

"Didn't mean to interrupt, I was just admiring the view. Looks like you could use a sparring partner."

You saw his brows furrow at your suggestion. Just who did you think you were? Thinking you could take on the Grandmaster of the Lin Kuei?!

"I am not some entertainment for you to watch. And I don't 'spar' with women-"

"-who could whoop your ass? I wouldn't either." you cut him off mid sentence and crossed your arms with a smirk. The only person you've ever sparred with was your brother, otherwise with one guard that you've been close with since a kid. So to take on an outsider was like a rush.

Whatever you were doing worked, cause now he was offended and wanted to put your pride in check.

"Alright," he said, taking a small weapon out his shirt when you put a hand up to decline. You took out your own blade and flipped it in between your fingers.

"May the best one win."

-

You two had been meeting up and sparring for about three weeks now, and with every encounter, you both had just talked more and more about yourselves. You talked about your life as a daughter of a stubborn father who favored your brother all your life, while Bi Han talked about his rift with his brother and the stresses of filling in his late father's position as head of his clan. Neither of you really thought to reveal your roles in your clans, afraid the other would be put off.

"I get married off next month." you said bluntly after you sat in silence. You both had been sitting together and stargazing in the grass. Honestly, you never thought he'd be down for something like this, but you certainly weren't going to complain. "So...I won't be able to come here anymore. I am to prepare to be bound to the enemy's temple and probably bear his children. Ugh, it's probably some old fuck--who I won't be fucking."

Bi Han wore a slight bit of a smile at how crass you were. You laughed it off, but you were dead serious. You looked over at him already looking at the side of your face.

"How our fates aligned like this, I am getting married tomorrow. Also an arranged marriage. I guess we both won't be coming out here anymore." he said, his voice slightly disappointed as he turned his eyes back to the sky.

"Really? I thought the men were still able to do as they please. It's what my brother says."

"He's not entirely wrong, but I am not that kind of man. I wouldn't be that kind of husband. Even though I don't know this woman and I don't know how long it'll be before I actually love her, I would still respect her in some way."

You could tell he was genuine in his response. He couldn't even look you in the eyes upon saying what he really felt. When you first met, he was cold but an odd hint of welcoming, even if you did come off as immature. He didn't want to admit it to you, but he was slowly falling for you. It was wrong, as he's literally about to get married to somebody else, but it's what his heart says.

"Wow..." you muttered, unable to stop looking at him even though he was focused on the stars. "Didn't think you'd be into that sort of thing."

"Marriage?"

"Love."

He looked down at the ground, resting his elbows on his elevated knees and sighing. "I may be cold and reserved, but I am also human. How I choose to express affection is usually the problem. It's why I don't focus on things like that."

You then looked up at the stars, fidgeting with your hands before speaking.

"...Is it wrong to fall in love before an arranged marriage?"

Bi Han's head raised, but he still didn't look at you. He then stood up and dusted off his clothes, choosing not to acknowledge your question.

"It's getting late."

Your heart sank a little as he said that, going back to his cold demeanor. You wanted to apologize if you made him uncomfortable, but like he said, he didn't focus on things like that. You just nodded stood next to him, extending your hand as a farewell.

"This is goodbye." you said, fighting back the urge to shed a single tear. These last three weeks had been the best time of your life, and it was all to dissipate all over again. As he looked at your hand, knowing this was a farewell, he too wanted to shed a tear. He just couldn't do it. He can't shake your hand. He's too afraid he'll end up vulnerable in front of someone he's only known for three weeks, and he hasn't cried since he was a child.

"You should get home." he promptly said, walking past you as he gathered his things and left. Feeling the wind hit the side of your face from how fast he took off made you want to sob and throw a fit. How could he be like this? Ah...remember, he just doesn't focus on things like this. You stood there as your hand just fell to your side, holding back a flood of tears that could flow at any moment.

After five seconds had passed, you turned around just to see that...he was gone.

-

"What?!" you exclaimed. It was 9 in the fucking morning and your father just let you know out of the blue that you were actually getting married today. You stood in his office now fully awake in your sleep attire and angry. Why would he decide now to tell you such a thing? Your brother tried to make sense of it while you just ignored him.

"Father, I am not ready!"

"Sure you are. It's just a 3 week difference, why are you so worked up at this hour?" he sat back in his chair so casually as your brother stood next to him. You got so worked up you stormed towards the door and knocked over some important looking books on a shelf.

"I'm running away!" you shouted, slamming the door behind you. This was beyond belief. He really loved keeping you out of the loop. Right before you were on your way, you saw a pair of gauntlets that your father was going to give to your brother...and they grant the power of cryomancy. Hell, what do you have to lose?

Unfortunately, the guards kept getting to you before you could escape a few times, locking you in your room until it was time. For a few hours all you could do was throw a tantrum and emptily threaten the guards lives.

Eventually, there came a knock at your door. You didn't answer, just sitting in the corner of your room with your face buried in your pillow. It was the same guard you grew up with. You thought aw damn, you couldn't lash out at him.

He simply offered you words of comfort and sat on the edge of your bed, letting you know your father wants you to be ready in 15 minutes. He even offered to help you pick your best outfit.

A long 15 minutes later, you cleaned yourself up and made yourself look presentable. Though, you still stepped out of your room with a scowl, glaring at the guards that were on standby. You slyly hid the braces under your flared sleeves. If you needed to use it, you wouldn't hesitate to. Who cares if you weren't trained to use them? You'll figure it out.

"You look lovely, miss. I know you don't think you're ready, but I trust that the Grandmaster didn't choose someone twice your age. Your mother was actually younger than him by 2 years, if that helps." he said, trying to cheer you up. The corner of your mouth lifted into a half smile, appreciating his efforts.

You escorted yourself to sit with your father and brother before the gates that opened up to the temple. The usual traditional practice had started, and you looked the most uninterested among the rest--even resting your head into your palm.

It was a rather nice day. How convenient that it wasn't snowing to all hell on a day you were pissed off.

The gates finally opened, and here came your supposed future husband. You rolled your eyes and looked away for a moment. As you refused to look at the man walking up to the throne, your father stood up and greeted him.

"Bi Han, Grandmaster of the Lin Kuei. My now...former rival. I welcome you to our temple."

You froze in place. Did- Did you hear him right?

"Excuse my daughter, she is a little shy. I offer her to you as a gift of peace. We mustn't fight any longer, two cryomancy clans should stick together, not separate."

As your father rambled, you slowly looked over at the man. It was...really Bi Han. He is the man you were arranged to marry...and you were the woman he was arranged to marry today. No wonder your marriage was pushed back.

You quickly stood up and just stared at him. As his eyes fixed onto you, his gaze went from a slight shock to softening. He couldn't believe it himself. It was really you. He was arranged to marry the same woman he fell in love with in a span of 21 days.

"...but, to make this interesting, what do you say to a duel? You and my eldest son, for my daughter's hand?"

It's like you got water splashed into your face after a dream sequence. Did you hear him correctly? A duel?!

Your brother was the fiercest fighter you knew. You never could stand sparring or generally physically fighting him, he would always go low when he thought he was going to lose. Just what is he going to do with a cold Grandmaster who usually only has regard for himself?

"Seriously? For my hand? That's unnecessary, it was neither of our choi-"

"I accept."

Your eyes snapped to Bi Han, whose look of determination was back onto his face.

'I will not lose' he thought, chanting over and over in his head. He will earn your hand to prove he's worthy, even though he didn't need to. He couldn't lose this fight or you.

"Splendid. May the best one win." your father said, sitting back down and gesturing for you to follow. But you just stood there in awe. He was actually doing this.

"Sweetheart, I know you're excited, but let's sit for this. Who knows how long this'll go on for?" he motioned for a guard to push your chair in behind your knees. You decide to comply, truly curious as well.

It's been an hour. Both parties evenly matched and no telling who had the upper hand. However, you watched your brother with close attention. He hadn't done anything suspicious just yet...

...Spoke too soon.

As soon as Bi Han was gaining on him, he pulled a hidden weapon from his pocket, slicing Bi Han's cheek. You just sunk into your chair, in utter disbelief at the sight.

He did another sequence of dirty moves, and the next one was bound to be fatal. You knew this because he has already told you before, this wasn't going to end well for either side. At the next slash before his big move, you got up in fit of rage and used the braces to create a large wall between them two made completely of ice.

"Must you be so damn cowardice?!" you yelled. You turned to your father who had a look of pure confusion. "You raised a fool. And it wasn't me."

You ran down the stairs and over to Bi Han, who had a bunch of cuts on his face and arms.

"Are you alright?" you kneeled in front of him, who was on the ground in pain, but didn't want to make a big deal about it. He looked up at you with such love and respect in his eyes.

"I'm in love with you." he said, shocked at how blunt he was with his own feelings, but he didn't care.

"Thought you'd say that." you smiled. Standing up and looking through the ice, you helped him stand and held his face, mindful of the cuts splayed across his cheek and nose bridge.

"I do. You do. Boom, we're married." you said, kissing him without an ounce shame. Once you heard the clamoring on the other side of the wall, you quickly backed away and took his hand to make a run for it out of the gates. Now this, was now the most fun you've ever had in your life.

As you kept running, Bi Han caught up with you and couldn't help but process everything that just happened in the last two hours.

"Are we going to have a proper wedding?" he asked.

"That can be arranged."

[inkedbydesire]

Can’t Let Go (Pt 2)

Jimmy Uso x Black Fem Reader

(Part 1)

A/N: This is inspired by an Adele song called “Can’t Let Go.” Please give it a listen if you’ve never heard it. It will enhance your reading experience (I hope 😂).

Warning: Some profanity but that’s about it.

Summary: Two years after your relationship with Jonathan Fatu ended due to infidelity on his end you received a letter from him. After more than one year of silence, your curiosity got the best of you, and against your better judgement, you opened it. Suddenly, the emotions you worked so hard to bury came rushing back. Now you must figure out your next steps. Do you proceed on with life like you never opened the letter? Or are you finally ready to sit down and talk to him?

Word Count: 3k

A/N: It took way too long to update this but I still love the idea so here we are. I apologize in advance for any grammatical errors or typos I may have missed during my proofreading.

*************************************************

"What's up with you Y/N? You've been acting strange all day girl."   Jade's voice was laced with concern and curiosity as she leaned forward, her elbows resting on the clothed table of your favorite outside restaurant. The gentle clinking of cutlery and the low hum of city traffic filled the air around you but you barely registered it over your thoughts.

Reacting to her words you moved your attention from the chicken salad you were barely eating to look up at her. Her half-eaten plate was left unattended as her light brown eyes searched your face. Quickly you avoided her gaze and started fiddling with your fork. You'd hoped to make it through this outing without her noticing that something was off about you. But with your many years of knowing Jade Washington, you knew the chances of that were slim. One major con of having a psychotherapist as a best friend, you could get nothing past her.

And you couldn't rightfully be bothered about it either because she wasn't wrong. You had been acting strange. Normally you rushed to Jade with your issues but you weren't ready to divulge this one just yet. You and Jade barely got time off from your careers so when you did manage to get a few free days you wanted to make the best of them. Today was supposed to be about manicures, pedicures, shopping, and good food. The last thing you wanted to do was sour the mood with your baggage.

But nothing could distract you from the storm that came in the form of an envelope last night.

Why did you have to open that damn letter? Now you couldn't focus on anything or anyone for more than a couple of minutes without your mind reverting to the words that were penned across those pages.

Dear Y/N,

I can't believe I'm doing something as corny as writing you a letter. But I wanted you to know that every word was meant and I feel like writing it out is the best way to show that to you. Plus I have no other way to contact you without looking like a stalker. But that's my fault. It's my fault that it's been two years and the only way I get to see your face or hear your voice is in old videos and pictures. It's my fault that you removed yourself from my life two years ago and now it seems like I never existed to you. Did I mention that it's been two years? I remember the first time I saw you looking lost in the hallway back when we were in high school. Being nosy and saying something to you that day is still one of the best decisions I've ever made. Because from that day forward, you had me and I had you. I never thought there would be a time in my life when things would be different. I never thought I would find myself having to live my life without you in it. But here I am. But again, that's my fault. I fucked up and I can't apologize enough for it. I would write I'm sorry a thousand times on this paper if I thought that would make you acknowledge me again. You don't want to hear shit that I have to say. And I've tried. I've tried so many times Y/N. But I understand it though. I'm a piece of shit for breaking your heart and trust me I feel it every single day. Not a day goes by that I don't think about you. I miss you so fucking much. It took me a while but once I realized that you really didn't want anything to do with me anymore I decided to fall back. I knew that I had to leave you alone so we both could get on with our lives. And I planned on doing that forever because that's obviously what you want. But I can't do it Y/N. I don't understand how you expect me to just let you go. What am I supposed to do just forget about everything we had and fall out of love with you? I've tried and I just can't do it Y/N. I guess it's not as easy for me as it seems to be for you. I know I don't deserve for you to ever speak to me again. Hell, you might not even open this letter. But if you do after all this time, that means you must still care a little bit about what I have to say. Everything between us was left so unfinished Y/N. You left me while I was on the road and I haven't seen or heard from you since. That's crazy.

I feel like I would have a better chance at moving on if I could get the chance to sit down and talk to you. Just one conversation Y/N. That's all I'm asking. Just one chance to make things right. I hope that isn't too much.

Love, Jon

You read that letter 5 times more than needed before you were able to rest your thoughts enough to fall asleep. And even then your dreams were restless and jumbled filled with unwanted memories of Jonathan.

His smile.

The sound of his laughter.

Stupid shit that you hadn't allowed yourself to think about in umpteen months.

"What's on your mind?" Jade asked, her voice gentle but persistent as she pulled you back to the present. She reached across the table and brushed her freshly french-tipped fingers against your hand.

"I've known you since 10th grade and on top of that I'm a damn therapist. I know when something is bothering you. What's up?" she urged.

Reluctantly you moved your eyes to meet hers again before letting out a sigh and slumping back into your chair.

"Jonathan Fatu," you said, forcing the name out as you watched her reaction. Her eyes grew to the size of saucers in instant understanding. That name was supposed to be forbidden territory. It was damn near like saying Candy Man five times in the mirror. You didn't do it and the people around you including Jade knew not to. You hadn't spoken that name aloud in over a year nor had you allowed yourself to think of him for more than a few fleeting moments.

Thinking about him for more than 60 seconds led you to a dark place. A place that you fought hard to stay away from.

Jonathan cheating on you happened so unexpectedly and it left you feeling completely blindsided and shattered.  You never had any worries about Jonathan stepping outside of your relationship because you had it in your mind that he would never do that. Not to you. Especially when he knew what you went through with Trevor, the doctor you almost married. Plus you two had been in each other's lives since you both were 16 years old. Jade aside, he was your best friend. And you thought you were his. 

So never in a million years would you have thought he would break your heart that way.

But he did.

He had damaged you so badly that there were days when your mom would walk in on you sitting and staring out the window like Bella fucking Swan. You and Jade used to always joke about that movie. Saying how over dramatic Bella was being. You never imagined that one day you would understand what she was going through. But eventually, you clawed your way out of the hole you'd fallen into, and the only way you could move forward was to suppress everything about Jonathan.

At first, it was difficult because he was still going through everybody and their mama to reach you. But his year of silence aided in your healing, or so you thought.

Now it seemed like that letter was unraveling the careful progress you'd make in piecing your life back together. You had convinced yourself that you'd moved on and yet here you were questioning everything.

"He sent me a letter," you revealed to Jade, your voice tinged with bitter amusement. "Of all things."

She sat back, her shoulders settling into the chair as she gave you her full attention. You could already feel this turning into an impromptu therapy session. Yet again another con of having a psychotherapist for a best friend. She always psychoanalyzed you making it hard to have a simple conversation between two best friends.

"My mom gave it to me yesterday." you continued, tracing patterns on the tablecloth with your fingertips. "He sent it there because you know he doesn't know where I live"

"I was going to ask you if you read it but by the look on your face I can tell that you did," Jade said to you. "So now my question is why?"

"What do you mean?" you responded even though you had a small clue on the direction she might be headed in.

"Y/N," she began, her voice gentle but firm, "after two years of unhealthily ignoring what happened between you and him, you had to know reading that letter would trigger you. We both know that you've never allowed yourself to properly heal. And you opening that letter definitely shows it. If you were completely at peace with Jonathan you wouldn't have needed to know what was in it and you damn sure wouldn't be sitting across from me looking like you've seen a ghost."

"Thanks for the consultation, Doctor Washington," you muttered in response with an eye roll, though deep down, you knew every word she spoke was the hard truth.

You tried to throw the letter away because you knew it wouldn't lead to anything good. You knew it wouldn't lead to anything good because rather than come to terms with what happened between you and Jonathan, you just learned to ignore it. You learned how to mask and live with the ache in your heart. You knew it wasn't healthy but it was how you got through the day without crying and you were so tired of crying. 

For two years you had carefully built a facade that even you believed in until your mom handed you that letter. Now there were cracks in the foundation. 

"What was in it ..... the letter?" Jade asked bringing your clouded mind back to her.

"He .... he sounds very remorseful and uh ... he wants me to talk to him .... in person."

Jade mulled over your words while she picked up her glass and took a sip of her iced tea. 

"I think you should," she announced, and before you could say a word in protest she held her hand up to cut you off. 

"Listen Y/N I wouldn't be saying this if I thought you were truly over him. But you're not. There are movies you won't watch, places you won't go, and even food you won't eat just because it reminds you of him. That's no way to live." she explained to you as you sat across from her trying to keep an open mind.

But just the mere thought of physically seeing Jonathan again was making your stomach churn with nerves.

"I'm glad you opened that letter because if it wasn't that it was going to be something else. I think it's time Y/N. Ignoring something isn't the same as healing from it."

You wanted so badly to argue against her words but again, she was right. You thought you had everything handled but in all actuality, Jonathan still had control over you and your emotions. You hadn't thought much about it until now.

"You need closure Y/N. Not for him .... for you," she added.

"And ............ you have to tell him about the baby."

Your stomach twisted painfully as you eyed her trying to maintain your composure. You couldn't believe that she went there. She just trampled all over more forbidden territory.

"I don't have to tell him about that." you forced out lowly.

"Yes, you do Y/N. Even though I can't stand him for what he did he still deserves to know. It was his child too."

Two years ago a little over a month after you left Jonathan you went to the doctor because you kept having terrible fits of nausea. You left your appointment with an ultrasound picture in your hand and a headache. It didn't take long for you to conclude that you didn't want to go through with it. No more than a week later you had terminated the pregnancy and the only person who knew about it was Jade. She was there for you but she didn't support the fact that you did it without telling Jonathan. She said no matter what y'all went through he had the right to know. But at the time you weren't trying to hear that. You knew you wanted to keep Jonathan out of your life and having his child would've done the opposite.

You had so much hatred in your heart for him at the time that your heartbreak clouded your judgment. You didn't care then. You weren't thinking about right or wrong.

But now? You weren't so sure.

The silence between you stretched out, heavy, and uncomfortable. Jade didn't push. She just watched you, waiting for you to come to the conclusion you knew was inevitable.

Maybe it was time to face Jonathan.

******************************************** Hours after your outing with Jade you were back at your apartment with Jonathan on your mind more than he had been in months. Jade's words were painfully hard to ignore and they were eating at you. 

"Ignoring something isn't the same as healing from it" kept replaying in your mind on an endless loop. You were conflicted and needed more insight. Your fingers hovered over your phone as you leaned against the island in your kitchen. You decided to reach out to someone else who might give you more clarity, Joshua, Jonathan's twin. He knew him better than anybody. 

You shot Joshua a quick and simple text that read "Are you busy? Can I call you right quick?"

He responded minutes later letting you know that he was free to take your call.

"What is your brother on?" is the first thing you said to him once you got him on the phone. 

You were too wired up for greetings even though this was the first time you had interacted with him in almost two months. The lack of communication between you two was on your end. Yes, you still considered Joshua to be a close friend but there was only so much you could take of him before he reminded you too much of Jonathan. And you think he understood that because he never pressed the issue. He just made sure you were okay every once in a while.

"Hey to you too ........... and huh?" Joshua responded after a beat of silence. You could hear the confusion in his voice. 

"I got his letter," you said.

You were more than sure that Joshua already knew about it. You knew that he and Jonathan shared everything. So you doubted that Jonathan sent you something that he didn’t run by his brother first.

"Oh. He's not on nothing. He just wants what he's been wanting for the last two years, for you to talk to him." Joshua told you straightforwardly.

"You think I should?" you asked him.

Joshua hesitated before saying "I think you should do what's best for you. But honestly, he hasn't been right since he lost you and I know making shit okay with you again would put him back on track."

"Back on track?" you questioned.

"He's just been on some self-sabotage type of stuff lately. Got a few DUIs. Dumb shit." Joshua revealed to you.

"And you think that's got something to do with me?" you asked him.

You had no idea how Jonathan's life was going without you. You convinced yourself that you didn't care a long time ago and stuck with it. But the thought of Jonathan spiraling and jeopardizing everything he worked hard for sent an unexpected ache through your chest. 

"Yeah…… some of it" Joshua answered truthfully.

"Is his number the same?" you pushed the question out before you gave yourself enough time to change your mind. 

"Nah ... he had to get a new one after ....." Joshua began than trailed off once he remembered why Jonathan had to get a new number.

After he got exposed for cheating on me you bitterly thought to yourself.

"Just send it to me Josh..... I'll talk to you later," you said then waited for his "alright" before you ended the call. About two minutes later Joshua sent you the number and you stared at it for a moment before programming it into your phone.

Without thinking you quickly typed and sent a short message to the number that read "Jon, it's Y/N"

You knew that this was a now-or-never moment. If you gave yourself any more time to dwell on it you were going to talk yourself out of it. 

Jonathan must've already had his phone out in his hands because he responded to you in literal seconds stating that he really couldn't text and asked if he could call you. You didn't know if you were mentally prepared to hear his voice but you sent him sure regardless. 

Seconds later you watched the words Jon's New Number flash across your screen. Taking a deep breath, you braced yourself and then answered. 

"Y/N?" his tone was cautious, almost disbelieving. 

You hadn't heard his voice since listening to those voice messages so long ago. Hearing it now caused you to become stuck for a moment. 

"Y/N?" Jonathan questioned again.

"Uh yeah," you said as you snapped yourself out of it.

"I got your letter. If you find yourself in Florida anytime soon I'm willing to have a conversation with you,"  you spoke the words robotically and before he could respond you ended the call.

"What the fuck did I just do?" you muttered to yourself before placing your head down on the island as you dreaded what the future would hold. But despite the overwhelming emotions you were feeling at the moment, you knew it was time.

[replenaryindulgence]

Before the Light: Chapter 2

Azriel x Calida (ka-lee-duh)/Reader

Summary: Calida wakes up disoriented, her captors' intentions unclear. As she learns more about the world around her, her path home becomes more uncertain.

Word count: 5.6k

Warnings: alcohol

a/n: Now we're getting into ittttt. I'm so excited to see where this fic goes. I love leaving things open-ended. can you tell lol? This series is based in my mind right after ACOSF, hence the tension between Az and Elaine. How would you react if you were Cal? I tried to put myself in her shoes & not in the shoes of someone familiar with the world (P.S. there are probably typos, I'm rereading it as we speak & I'm on the lookout lol plz forgive me)

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

The throb at the base of your skull echoed to your temples. Groaning, you pulled the blanket up further to hide from the flickering light. 

Sifting through your thoughts was like trudging through molasses; the events of the past day came reluctantly. The bite of the early morning air, the laughter that echoed over the lake. The pain in your head grew sharp and you rubbed circles trying to ease the pressure. Moments flashed in your mind. Toes in the water, the burnt taste of instant coffee on your tongue. The gleam of silver water through the trees as you ran. 

It all hit you suddenly, dizzyingly; the forest, the strangers. You shot up. A wave of nausea had you clutching the stiff cushion beneath you. You took deep, burning breaths, forcing it to pass. For long moments you sat like this, taking careful glances, afraid to move too quickly. 

The room was dimly lit. A small fireplace crackled before you, the light sharp in your eyes. The smell of rotting wood and smoke hung in the air. To your left was a door; the wood gnarly and weathered. The whole place was. There was little furniture; a small work table sat to the right of the fireplace, at the end of the bed a large armchair. The dark material glittered slightly in the firelight. It looked out of place, less subjected to the elements. There was nothing else — no one else. No light peered through the small windows. 

The door flung open, the tall man with the stern face from the forest entered carrying pieces of wood under his arm. You heard the thudding of your heart in your ears. He didn’t speak. In three strides he hovered over the small work table. That’s when you noticed it, barely illuminated; the dagger at his side. 

He spoke and you met his gaze, blinking through the panic as he held out a glass of water. You couldn’t move. He sighed, setting it on the stool next to the bed. Your eyes trailed him as he sat upon the small stool by the fire, stoking it with another piece of wood, keeping it alive. He looked over his shoulder and gestured to the glass, repeating the unfamiliar phrase. Your tongue felt like cloth in your mouth but the fear held you frozen in place.

He stood once more and walked to the table, searching through a small bag. The thud of chopping filled the cabin and you watched as he added ingredients to a small black pot. Several minutes passed, your gaze fell to the glass of water and you gave in to your thirst. The water streamed down your chin, dampening your collar. 

“Where am I,” you choked out, voice sounding like you’d swallowed gravel. You knew he couldn’t understand. “What did you do to me?” 

You tried to form a plan. It was dark, this place was unfamiliar. Your face heated. Your friends. They were probably scouring the woods looking for you; you had to find them. You reached into your pocket.

They’d taken your phone, your watch. Everything. 

You tried to stand, or make for the door, but whatever they’d done to your head had the floor shifting beneath you. You couldn’t make it back like this. You sat back, leaning on the wall for support. ”Please,” you begged, though you weren’t sure what exactly for. You couldn’t make it three miles, not like this. You watched as the man hung the pot over the small fire and took a seat before it. He finally looked to you, and you held his stare. A minute passed like this, the two of you silent and unwavering. 

His attention turned back to the fire, stirring the pot slowly, and you closed your eyes in defeat. Your mind led you through every twisted possibility. 

When he spoke again, you found a wooden bowl sitting on the stool by the bed. He sat, watching you, his own bowl in hand. Your stomach snarled. You waited for him to take a bite. You looked at the stew inspectingly; vegetables peeked out of a thin broth. You brought it to your nose. He muttered under his breath. You hesitantly took a bite. It didn’t feel safe, eating what he’d made, but the aching in your head persisted and you’d do anything for it to stop. 

You weren’t sure if it was just the hunger, but you’d never tasted anything like this. You barely swallowed before taking your next bite. Unfamiliar spices stuck in your nose. Setting the bowl aside you noticed the refilled glass. You reached for it, this time taking small sips as you settled against the wall, cautiously surveying the cabin once more. The only exit was the door, the windows were too small for you to fit through. You’d have to wait for him to leave or to be distracted, but you weren’t sure you could outrun him. You felt hopeless; you hadn’t outrun them before, when they wore those ridiculous wings. Maybe if you cried enough he’d let you go from annoyance. You tried to recount what exactly happened in the woods. All you could remember was the fear, and the pain. 

The man walked over to the stool, grabbing the empty bowl. You watched as he moved through the space. He made his way to the end of the bed, settling into the armchair. You clutched the glass tightly as he fidgeted in his seat.

“I need to leave,” you gestured toward the door, pronouncing each word, though it’d do no good. “My friends are out there looking for me,” you patted your chest, ”just, please,” you were begging now, tears burned your eyes, “let me go.” 

His head fell back onto the chair in dismissal. The tears that fell were hot. Panic filled your veins, taking over as you leapt up, but he was quicker. He slammed a fist to the door, blocking it. You stumbled back, legs hitting the cushions.

“Move,” you forced out. You pointed to the door again. He shook his head, this you understood. 

“Yes.” You seethed.

He shook his head again and spoke a single word. ‘No’, you assumed. He pointed towards the bed.

You repeated the word he’d said to you. He shook his head, amused, avoiding your resolute stare. You tried for the door again, but he grabbed your wrist. That’s when you noticed — his hand. It was covered in scars. Both of them were. They rippled in silver and pink swirls of raised skin. He tore away his grip, crossing his arms. He stared past you with a cold gaze. 

You fell backwards onto the bed, dragging yourself to the corner. He set the stool down with a loud thud before the door. His head fell back, eyes looking vacantly through the room. Your head mirrored his, leaning on the wall for some sense of support. You were stuck here — at least for the night. 

…

You’d gotten little rest. You kept yourself curled up to the wall uncomfortably, eyes on the stranger. He never moved. You weren’t sure if he slept either. You’d spent the night contemplating every terrible scenario until your lips were puffy and your eyes swollen. You were thankful when the fire died down and you were able to cry in the cover of darkness. Exhaustion eventually took hold of you.

You woke abruptly as a loud knock sounded. Lifting your stiff head, your eyes squinted in the light as your captor stood, cracking his neck as he reached for the door. The man that grabbed you in the woods appeared beneath the frame. Your heart began to race. 

He took a step in, ducking, as he looked at you with a small, tight smile. He handed over a small satchel. As they spoke, you listened to the words with intense focus, searching for familiarity. Their demeanor was casual despite the situation. The second man had taken off his wings too. They wouldn’t have fit into this cramped cabin, anyways. He rubbed the back of his neck, and turned to look at you. The muscles in your body stiffened. He took a step toward the bed and crouched. 

Holding his hand to his chest he spoke. You stared at him. ‘Cassian’, he repeated gently, patting himself. His name? You looked between them, the other man stood back with his arms crossed. This must be some ploy to try and gain your trust. The man before you hit the other and gestured toward you. He rolled his eyes, stating his name. You repeated it and his eyes shot to yours. 

The man before you nodded with a kind expression and gestured to you encouragingly. You took a breath. If you played along, played nice, maybe you could persuade them to let you go. Maybe this was some big misunderstanding, you let yourself hope.

“Calida,” you stated quietly. 

‘Calida,’ he repeated, standing. He spoke a quick word to the scarred man before turning back through the doorway. He hesitated, nodding to you once more before disappearing and shutting the door tightly behind him. 

That’s it? 

Where was he going? Were they letting you go? You tried to stand but your captor moved before the door. It was useless trying to argue with him. You were a prisoner. You sat back, staring at the door, at the light peering in through the curling wood, visualizing your escape over and over in your mind.  A bird chirped, pulling you from your angry haze. Light poured through the small windows, illuminating specks of dust. You watched despondently as they floated freely around you.

…

You weren’t sure how much time had passed. You’d been given water and more soup. It had been simmering over the fire and tasted even richer than it had the night before. The man left the cabin, taking guard just outside as you relieved yourself in the tiny bathing area covered only by a thin sheet. You scoured the place for a weapon before he returned, but cursed when you found nothing. He must have taken the knife he’d used for dinner. He came back in as you were reaching for the small bag near the armchair and were met with a scowl.

Perhaps your body had run out of anxiety, or perhaps your stillness had fooled it into peace as you sat, legs crossed, watching through the small window as the day passed. As birds and small animals roamed and sang through the forest, and the light filtered through the trees. You heard movement outside just as the door swung open. 

The man with the violet eyes entered, his companion, Cassian, just behind him. No sign of the woman. “Calida,” he spoke, tilting his head toward you. You held your legs in a failed attempt at comfort and prepared for their next move. He reached out and set a small object on the stool next to you. A ring. You looked at him confused, but he only gestured to it. 

You hesitantly reached for the ring, holding it in your palm. It was a gold signet with three deep green stones in the center. Dull metal and shallow scratches showed its age. They watched you silently, expectantly, so you slid the ring on your hand, finding its place on your pointer finger. You twirled it with your thumb.

“Now what,” you spat.

”Now, we find out if this was worth the hassle,” the violet-eyed man spoke, his voice clear and familiar. Your eyes went wide.

”Seeing as to how it went last time, I’m going to have to rely on your candor,” he continued. Your mind ran wild, a million questions on your tongue. ”How did you find yourself in these woods?”

”These woods?” You questioned through the shock.

He raised a brow. 

“I… I’m camping near the lake with a group. I went for a run and… got lost. They’ll be looking for me,” you threatened. 

“You’re not a human spy sent from Autumn with a mind full of riddles to throw me off of your trail?”

“I… what?”

He squinted at you, assessing as he’d done before.

“These are public lands."

“These are Night Court lands.”

Night Court? Reservation land was miles East from where you camped, and none of them were called the Night Court; there was no private land.

“You can’t keep me here, this is kidnapping—“ 

“These woods aren’t safe for you,” Cassian interjected, his voice even.

“I ran three miles without trouble, I can make it back just fine,” you argued, your heart in your throat. “So what, you think you’re locking me away for my own safety?” You mocked.

“Yes,” the man with the violet eyes began, “we are. You are not supposed to be here, and the more you can tell us, the better the chance we have at returning you.”

Returning you? Nothing made sense. 

“How can you understand me?” 

“Magic,” a sly smile grew on his face. You shook your head, your lips pressed in a thin line. This wasn’t a game, but he certainly treated it like one. 

“When you were running, what did you see? Anything strange or unfamiliar?”

“You mean, besides the men with wings?”

“Yes, besides that.” He crossed his arms.

You took a breath, thinking back to the forest, to the lake disappearing, to hitting your head. “I turned to avoid a boulder and ran into a tree. When I looked up, the lake was just… gone. I thought I was concussed,” you admitted reluctantly.

He sighed. “I needed to make sure you weren’t a threat. Clearly, you know nothing,” he sauntered over, settling into the armchair and crossing his legs. “Although… what I saw in the woods, it was intriguing. Where are you from Calida?”

“Washington,” you spat. 

He tapped the armrest with his finger, assessing you. 

“There have been reports of strange happenings in these woods. Herds gone missing only to reappear out of thin air. It’s not unheard of, though there hasn’t been a tear in…” he pondered, “thousands of years. Long before most of our family walked these lands. At least not that we know of. This one seems to be stuck open, for now, though we’re having trouble locating it.”

You blinked. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“Would you believe me if I told you the truth?”

Cassian and the other man watched your conversation silently. You looked for any sign of humor or mischief on their face, but they were unnaturally stoic. 

“Tell me then, and I’ll decide for myself.”

“Very well,” He clasped his hands with a casual grace that made you want to roll your eyes. “You must have slipped through a tear, or a door between worlds, because you, Calida, are not where you believe yourself to be. I attempted to read your mind in the forest, and saw nothing familiar. We don’t know where you slipped through. You’re in Prythian, a land of humans, like yourself, as well as Fae and magic,” he pointed to your ring, “the reason we can understand one another.”

You stared at him in disbelief.

“The humans here look and smell like you, but you are wholly different. A glimpse into an unfamiliar world.”

You sat still, looking at the men in the room, deciding drugs must be involved. Your mind pulled you back to the scarred man, Azriel. He watched you, and you could’ve sworn pity lined his eyes.

“I see…” you started, “I appreciate your protection and hospitality, but I’m sure I can find my way back.” You spoke calmly, afraid of their reaction.

A deep laugh filled the cabin as the violet eyed man stood. 

“Very well, we’ll see you on your way.” He reached into a small bag and set your belongings down beside you. 

“Rhys-” Azriel began, but the man held up a gentle hand to silence him.

He nodded toward the door, and Cassian opened it apprehensively. They seemed to share a wordless communication. You grabbed your things before they could change their mind. Azriel’s worried eyes followed you through the door. The cool forest air bit at your lungs, a flutter of hope filling your chest. The men behind you made no attempt to grab you. You didn’t dare look back; your feet skipping below you as you began to run through the thick trees. Moments passed and the hope sang louder in your ears as you blindly headed West, your eyes searching wildly for something familiar as your feet skipped across the forest floor.

After some time you came to a stop, leaning on a large rough tree while you caught your breath. You heard nothing over your loud breathing. Eventually it slowed and you realized you heard nothing, no birds sang, no creatures skittered. It was silent. Hairs stood on the back of your neck. Your eyes scanned the forest. There, in the distance, something caught your eye. You were flooded with a sense of familiar dread. You squinted, afraid to move, to breathe. You leaned ever so closer.

As if day was marrying night, a thick, dark swirl of shadow appeared before you. Along with Azriel. Your scream was muffled by his hand as he grabbed your arm with his other. He hushed you and you froze. His head snapped to the right, scanning the trees. You felt your breath in his hand.

”Shit,” he breathed. Before you could blink a darkness washed over you. It swallowed you whole, its gentle claws pulling at your ankles and combing through your hair. What kept you in place was not gravity, but Azriel as he held you to his chest. And just as the darkness had appeared, in a shadow, it had vanished before the light. The cabin filled your vision and you fell promptly to the soft ground, the world around you swirling.

”What was it?” Cassian questioned.

”Naga,” Rhysand spat.

You propped yourself on your elbows, your mouth hanging open, brows furrowed. You looked at the cabin, shocked. Suddenly, a swirl of shadow appeared and dissipated just as quickly as before, and a woman, the woman from the woods, stepped through. Definitely a concussion. 

”Let’s go,” Azriel pulled his dagger from his leg, nodding to Cassian. Wings, the giant membranous wings appeared on their back. This time, they moved as gracefully as the rest of them. Your breath caught in your throat. Your neck fell back as the men leapt up twenty feet in the air, their wings beating the wild grasses flat as they ascended. A cry left escaped your lips. You heard voices in the distance; you stared unblinking at the bright sky.

”You said yourself she’s harmless.”

”I said she’s not a threat. We’ll keep searching. Azriel will watch-“

”You want to keep them cooped up in that cabin? They’ll be at each other's throats. These woods aren’t safe,” She gestured toward the forest.

”The cabin is warded. We can find a spot for her elsewhere-“

“There is a spot. The River House.”

”Feyre, we’re not opening our home to her. There’s too much unknown.”

"Just for a day, Rhys. She’s human," she emphasized.

"Human, yes, but from a foreign world."

The woman stilled and they stood looking at each other for a long while. 

“You knew when you read her mind she wasn’t dangerous. She’ll be my responsibility. Madja will look over her again,” she held a hand up to stop him from arguing. ”That was me Rhys, this could have been me.”

It was decided. The woman made her way to you and knelt.

"Don’t be scared," she began, “but this may be uncomfortable.” She grabbed your arm and again you were swept up in rolling darkness.

…

“I was asleep for a day and a half?” You questioned in disbelief, eyes vacantly set on the wall before you.

The woman, Feyre as she’d told you, nodded, sighing. She was much better at calming your nerves than her husband had been. She’d expressed sympathy for not being there when you woke, something about dealing with a disgruntled citizen. She’d also apologized for Rhysand’s hostility. ‘You look similar to the people we have… political disagreements with,’ she’d said. ‘People, or “fae?”’ You’d questioned, but she’d just given you that same careful smile. 

When Feyre had brought you to the house you’d vomited on the floor, a reaction from what felt like being thrown a thousand feet in the air. Winnowing, she’d called it. You’d laid your cheek on the cool dark tile, steadying your breath. An older woman with a cautious face had appeared. She kept her distance as she moved her arms above you in slow circles. With a simple nod, she was off. Feyre seemed relieved by this and slowly guided you up the stairs and down the hall. 

You'd since decided that you died in the woods, or were clinging to life somewhere having fever-induced dreams. Now you sat on a bed in the grandest room you’d ever seen, unsure of how you’d imagined something like this. Swirls of gold decorated the walls, the wallpaper a faded, clear night sky. Painted portraits and landscapes filled the room. They glowed, the color so rich you swore you could step into the frame. The sheer pale curtains stretched high above the windows, breathing in and out with the uncertain breeze. 

Feyre had confirmed Rhys’s story. Prythian, Fae, the tear between worlds. You half-absorbed it, overwhelmed to the point of numbness. She handed you a small vile that the older woman had left, and you sniffed it suspiciously. ‘It’ll help with the nausea and the headache. I took it all the time when I was pregnant,’ she’d said. You took a sip and puckered. It tasted like lemon thyme. 

“So those men can fly.”

She chuckled, setting a pair of shoes down by the mirror and muttering something about the males being dramatic. “They can. So can Rhys and I, but we can conjure them. We had a glamour-” she paused, “we hid their wings with magic so you’d be less afraid.” 

Less afraid. You scoffed. Thinking back to the way Azriel had walked about the space so carefully, it was clear now. Maybe you hadn’t seen his wings because you didn’t want to.

“That man,” you interrupted the silence, watching as Feyre sorted through a box of clothing she’d brought to the room. “Azriel,” you continued, picking at the skin around your nails, “what happened to him?” 

She stilled. “I’m not sure that’s my story to tell.” She folded a gray sweater, and walked to the wardrobe, setting the pile of clothing inside. “As scary as these past days have been for you, there’s much worse beyond these walls. As long as you’re here, until we can get you back to your family, you’re safe.” 

You weren’t sure why, but again you felt a peace settle into your chest with her words. You read her sincerity. She spoke with a sureness that would ease any anxious mind. You refused to think about what else laid beyond these walls. Your imagination had never been kind to you.

“Rhysand was afraid to bring me here,” you responded.

She nodded, folding her arms. “He’s protective of our family, our son. So am I.” She tilted her head. “But, I saw into your mind through his, you’re not dangerous…” She continued after a pause, “I was lost once. And I was lucky enough to have someone to help guide me back.”

You hummed in response. ‘Saw into your mind.’

“Dinner is at sunset, but until then, rest. If you don’t want to join us you’re more than welcome to have dinner in your room.”

You nodded in thanks, as she reached the bedroom door. 

“There’s a bath waiting for you, whenever you’re ready.” she gestured toward the arched doorway that led to the bathing room. “Drink the rest of that vile,” she stated pointedly. The door shut softly behind her and you fell back, arms spread behind you. Your mind twisted around her words.

You grabbed your phone; dead. With a huff you plugged it into your charger and prayed.

… 

The bath water was still steaming hours later. You’d slept for a while, the adrenaline finally retreated, leaving you a heap of heavy limbs. The knot in your stomach loosened only slightly as you stepped in. You let your head fall back onto the cool porcelain as the hot water licked your tense body. You sat, watching the sun sink slowly beyond the windowsill. You scrubbed your body and inspected your hand. Flexing your fingers, you realized the scratch was gone. A dream, you thought to yourself. You stepped out, combing your lavender-scented hair.

The clothing Feyre brought was far nicer than most of what you owned. It looked well crafted, handmade. The brown knitted cardigan fell gently over your cream silk pants that you’d slipped on, along with a white t-shirt. Everything was familiar, but not. Every detail of the clothing was slightly different than you were accustomed to. You stood, fidgeting with the ring on your finger as you stood frozen in the mirror. The hairs around your face curled as they began to dry.

Down the stairs and to the left was the dining room, you’d been told. With a breath you stepped out, your silk slippers patting gently on the tiled floor. The grand hallway was barely illuminated. Sconces lined the walls, their warm flickering glow mixed with the cool light that shone through the windows. Flickering shadows danced on the giant paintings that filled the hall; your eyes landed on familiar wings and you shuddered. With each step down your anxiety heightened. Even asleep you couldn’t escape it.

Conversation filtered through the house, growing clearer with every step. You hesitated, heart beating heavily. The voices hushed. Every gaze turned toward you inquisitively as you stepped into view. Some faces recognizable, some not. A woman with long golden hair looked over you. A dark-haired woman at her side leaned over her elbow curiously, eyes squinted. A handsome man with dark skin and pure white hair whispered into her ear. Opposite them, a woman who looked remarkably similar to Feyre sat beside Cassian. You met Rhysand’s gaze as he sat at the end of the long dining table, Feyre by his side. She stood, coming to walk you to the opposite end near Azriel. You felt their burning gazes as you stiffly took your seat.

For a moment, there was silence. You glanced around, in awe of the people before you. At the towering wings. Their unnatural beauty. That’s when you spotted their ears, Feyre’s hair had covered them before. Delicate, pointed ears. You glanced around, realizing they all had them. All except Azriel and Cassian.

“Sorry if we scared you, kid,” Cassian interrupted the silence, taking a swig of his drink with a mischievous grin. 

“Calida, you’ve met Cassian, the Commander of our Armies,” Rhysand began. “Azriel, our Spymaster, as well as High Lady of the Night Court, Feyre. These are her sisters Elain and Nesta.”

Elaine, sitting closest to you, offered you a small smile, while Nesta only stared. 

“Morrigan, my cousin,” he pointed to the golden-haired woman to your left, “Amren my Second-in-Command, and our friend Varian.” 

“Call me Mor,” She replied, before turning to Rhys. “What’s with the formalities? And why did I just get ‘cousin’?” 

“Third-in-Command, Queen of Velaris, take your pick,” Rhys responded smoothly, sipping his wine. 

“If she's the Queen, what does that make you?” You asked, eyes set on the man across the table. 

“High Lord of the Night Court, and more powerful than most everyone at this table,” he responded coolly.

“Most?” you questioned. 

“Most,” Feyre responded, a smile playing on her lips.

Cassian interrupted, “See Nes, you two will get along great.” The woman at his side chuckled. The atmosphere was tense. You weren’t helping. 

The focus turned to dinner. The scent of roasted meat and vegetables filled the air. You all loaded your plates and ate in near silence. It tasted so real. So many questions racked your mind, too many. You weren’t sure how to organize them, so you observed. For a ‘foreign world’, there was a lot of familiarity. Their mannerisms, the food. You stabbed a carrot with your fork. Light conversation skittered through the room. You felt Azriel’s eyes on you while you ate, as if he was waiting for you to pounce. You grabbed a slice of dark bread. Everyone seemed unsure of what to do with you. 

“Calida.” 

You looked up, startled. Elain offered you a smile. “That’s a beautiful name.” You felt lingering glances.

“Thank you,” you responded windlessly, “It’s Irish.”

“Is that where you’re from?” She questioned.

“My great-grandfather immigrated from Ireland to America,” you responded. “I grew up in Washington, near the city of Seattle.” You knew this meant nothing to them, but she nodded anyway.

“And what do you fill your time with?” She inquired.

“I’m a student,” you began, “or was. I studied English. Books and authors.”

“What kind of books?” Nesta chimed in.

You looked at her in surprise. “A little of everything. Classic literature, poetry, non-fiction.” 

She hummed in response, tilting her head and reaching for her glass.

Elain asked about your family and friends. You told them about Jack, Annie, and Brooke. A little about your parents. Sometimes they looked at you like you’d said something totally foreign. You were sure you had.

“How do you know each other?” you questioned. Cassian and Azriel looked like they could be related. They had the same large frame and dark hair like Rhysand.

“Cassion, Azriel, Mor, and I grew up together,” Rhysand answered, leaning back in his chair. You glanced at Azriel beside you, but he remained uninterested in conversation.

“My story is long and complicated. I was born human, and eventually found myself here,” Feyre added.

“Born human?” 

“Nesta and I were, too,” Elain emphasized. 

“How did you–”

“It’s a long story,” Nesta repeated, shutting you down.

This time, it was the dark-haired woman, Amren, who spoke. “I come from a different place, just like you, girl.” She set her glass down, crossing her arms on the table. Her stare felt cold. “About five-thousand years ago I crossed over from a different world. It seems we have that in common.”

“Five thousand years?” You scoffed. 

“Yes.” 

Your mind flew back to Rhysand’s comment at the cabin. You looked around the room for an answer, a rebuttal. 

“Amren’s ancient. I’m 537,” Cassian spoke, stretching his arm behind his head with a yawn. 

“I’m twenty-three,” Elain offered. You turned to her with a smile, a small laugh bubbling in your chest at the ridiculousness of it all. You decided you liked Elain. She reminded you of Annie. 

A thought crossed your mind, and you turned to Rhysand. “Why did you ask me if I was from Autumn? What does that mean?”

You felt Azriel’s gaze slip.

“It was mostly a joke. Your hair is red like the family from Autumn Court, but I knew you were human. Nevertheless, I wanted to see your reaction.”

“Autumn Court? There’s another court?” You questioned. 

Before he could answer, the scrape of Azriel’s chair pierced the air as he pushed himself further from the table, his wings flaring slightly behind him.

“We have an early morning.” He stated, focus turning to Rhysand. 

Rhysand ignored his interruption. “There are several courts. You don’t need to worry yourself. Tomorrow morning you’ll go back to the forest, search for the tear, and this will all be behind you.”

“Alone?”

“No. Azriel and Amren will accompany you. She may be able to spot the tear.”

May. Your mind and body grew heavy. You felt yourself falling deeper into the abyss of your mind. You reached out to grab the bottle of dark liquid closest to you. Azriel stole it from your hands.

“That’s not a good idea,” he stated, peering at you with dark eyes.

“I’m old enough to drink.”

“And how old would that be?”

“Twenty-two,” you rebutted. He scoffed, shaking his head. You looked at his hand that rested before you. A fresh cut sliced along the back of it.

“It's not real,” you whispered to him, staring into his eyes intently. They almost looked brown in the dim light. He furrowed his brows.

“A small glass is fine, Az,” Feyre offered.

He sighed, sliding it over. You poured yourself a glass as he settled back into his seat. You watched his wings as they moved. The candlelight shone through ever so slightly, illuminating dark veins. You stared, amazed as you sipped the wine. It was tart, tasting like cherry or currant. It made your head buzz.

“So you read minds,” you gestured to Rhysand and Feyre.

He smiled. “Yes. But I wasn’t very successful reading yours, what with you fainting and all.”

You nodded, thankful for the absence of the ache in the back of your head. “What did you see?” 

He leaned forward, resting his chin on his fist. 

“Faces, feelings; some things familiar, some not.” 

You hummed in response, swirling your glass on the table.

“You don’t seem upset that I was in your head,” he inquired.

You shook yours. “It reminds me I’m not making it all up.”

Taglist: @cleverzonkwombatsludge @latinxbipride @inkedinshadows @lilah-asteria @rcarbo1

[the-best-black-widow]

Whats up guys, I'm Yelena Belova. I'm an ex-russian assasin, and SHIELD agent. I’m physically 31, but technically 36, due to the snap. I’m Aro/Ace, so please no flirting. It’s icky as fuck.

Just a heads up, if you even think about messing with any of the people I’ve tagged here, they’ll never stop finding your body. No, that was not a typo. Capisch?

I am jokingly mean sometimes, so let me know if I ever take it too far, it’s all playful. You’ll know if it isn’t, because if I don’t like you, I have either (A) already killed you (B) tried to kill you or (C) glared at you for an hour straight

1/2 of the Aro/Ace Duo of chaos

Moodboard made by @thewhitespiderwitch

RELATIVES

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Jazmine ( @notasimpx2) : Daughter

Bucky ( @official-buckybarnes) : Brother-in-law

Kat ( @multifandomer537) : Niece

Moon ( @moon-barnes) : Niece

Liho ( @liho-the-widows-cat ) : Niece

Alpine ( @official-alpinebarnes) : Niece

Azalea ( @azalea-romanoff) : Niece

Arrox (@ducktamer415) : Nephew

Peter ( @definitelynot-peterp4rker) : Nephew

Penny ( @little-penn-penn-barnes) : Niece

Dolores ( @theeefainting-barnes) : Niece

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This blog will not tolerate sexism, racism or homophobia of any shape or form

Mod is @immastealyourfood

[delopsia]

del pls i am DRUNK and i would like to know your interpretation of how bobby and/or rhett would take care of reader..

i was at a work party and they had bowling and free drinks so everyone who wasn't driving was kind of getting lost in the sauce and the only reason there aren't typos is because i am using auto correct

i just want bobby or rhett to take care of me :(((

I assume we're talking about how they would care for a drunk Reader t.t I apologize if I interpreted this wrong, lmao. I've been doing that a lot lately.

Bobby is one swift breeze away from wrapping you in several layers of bubble wrap. He thought he was keeping a good track of how many drinks you'd had over the night, but at some point, you got three of the same thing, and he misread it as you taking forever to finish one drink. So now here you are, drunk, on his watch, and it's got him a little frazzled. How did you slip under his radar? He was next to you this whole time!

You don't actually remember how he got you out into the car, but at some point, you find yourself sitting in the passenger seat, being fed little pieces of food from your favorite fast food joint. The privilege of choosing the size of your own bites was revoked when you choked; it's Bobby and his plastic knife against the world.

He doesn't let you out of the car until he's made his way to the other side, curling an arm around your waist and walking you to the door. Tripping and falling? Not on his watch. Absolutely not. Hell, you can't do anything by yourself. Even when you wake up in the morning, he refuses to leave you alone while he feeds you a few painkillers for your migraine.

Bobby doesn't drink these days, but he certainly remembers what it was like to wake up with a hangover. He's got the curtains drawn shut to avoid letting the sunlight worsen your headache, speaking in quiet, hushed tones. Do you want him to go get you anything? Food? A new plush? One of his blankets? How about some snuggles in bed? Whatever you want, he'll go and get it for you 🌼

Rhett is...uniquely helpful? He's had his fair share of drunk nights and vicious hangovers; it's happened so many times that he's memorized all the things that help ease the pain of waking up the next morning. To be fair, it was partially his fault that you had too many; he tends to forget that not everyone has an alcohol tolerance like he does. What you don't realize is that three drinks ago, he started filling your cup with water.

All the restaurants in Wabang close before ten, but there are plenty of gas stations with a sort of 24/7 food situation. Not the healthiest, but it's quick enough for Rhett to feel okay with leaving you in his truck while he runs inside to get you a few snacks. Gatorade, something fried, french fries, chips, and at least one kind of mini donut. It doesn't matter to him if you don't finish anything; the whole idea was to get something in your belly.

Rhett's funny in where, he's not in a huge rush to get you home and in bed. He'll take you on a slow drive around town or through the field to see the cattle to give you some time to gather your bearings before he tries helping you out of the passenger seat. It always starts with him trying to help you walk, and without fail, ends in him carrying you into the house. All it takes is for you to trip one(1) time, and you lose all walking privileges.

To be fair, he does try to get you to bathe before letting you fall aslepe, but it's entirely hit and miss. Sometimes you knock out on the couch while he's running the water, others, you nod off in the bath. Very rarely does he manage to keep you awake long enough to see the bed. You can't help it; he's muttering to you in those low, hushed tones, stroking the back of your neck, and it's just so hard to keep your eyes open any longer.

Very rarely do you wake up with anything more than a mild headache come morning. It's the cowboy effect 💐

With them together, you've practically got no hope of being left alone once your head begins to spin. Where Rhett easily notices when you get a new drink, Bob's got a better idea of when to step in. It's a little harder to trick you into drinking your water, so Rhett will do this funny thing where he'll order you something, drink half of it, and fill it with water. No, they don't know why it tastes bland all of a sudden. That must be a sign that you've had too many.

The best part of all this is when Bob gets forced into the middle seat. You're guaranteed to have the passenger seat because, in the event you get sick, you can just open the door.

Problem: Bob doesn't know how to act when he's in the middle.

His legs are awkwardly split, one on your side and one on Rhett's. Bringing them in would put them uncomfortably high up, but spreading them further would get in the way of Rhett and the pedals. His shoulders keep bumping into you, and this flimsy seat belt over his lap feels like it'll snap if Rhett hits the brakes too hard. He's so stiff that you can steal his glasses, and he won't kick up a fuss. It's free amusement, to say the least.

Coming home is practically the same. Rhett handles getting you in the bath, Bobby fusses over getting water in your system, and feeds you little pieces of your snacks. You're lucky if your feet touch the ground more than twice the entire night.

Please be prepared for dramatic re-enactments of your antics come morning.

[dangowon]

title » boyfriend hcs !

pairing » nishimura riki x gn!reader

requested? » no

genre » fluff

word count » 0.8k

a/n » first post <3 ni-ki has been bias wrecking me so much lately (when is he not tbh) so i thought i'd make this ! there might be grammar issues or typos since i did write this at like 1 am, so i apologise.

✧ well.. you sure are in for a ride if you're dating this boy.

✧ he quite literally lives to tease you. due to his immense height, he likes to purposefully keep things out of your reach just so that you'll ask him for help. he'll pretend to lean in to kiss you and then move away at the last second, proceeding to laugh at your annoyed face and calling you cute.

✧ when you've been too busy to give him attention, he'll whine like giant toddler and pester you until you finally kiss him. he'll do this even more if you've been neglecting him in favour of someone else, even if it's just someone you partnered up with for a school project.

✧ as much of a headache (affectionate) he can be sometimes, he's also the cutest boyfriend ever.

✧ one of his main love languages is definitely physical touch, and although he can be shy about it at first, once he gets comfortable with you, he will never stop clinging onto you.

✧ he gives you cheek kisses all the time; when he's greeting you, when he's saying goodbye, and even sometimes randomly during a conversation. he just can't help himself, "you're too kissable," is what he says as an excuse.

✧ he could never live without cuddling you honestly. sometimes he invites you over to the dorm or comes over to your place just to nap in each other's arms. he pretends like he's disgusted at the idea of being the little spoon but once you do it, he's obsessed. he definitely doesn't mind being the big spoon, though.

✧ back hugs are his favourite type of hugs. he'll do it when you're distracted to surprise you, when you're in the middle of a conversation with someone else, when you're cooking, whenever you're standing in general honestly.

✧ when he hugs you from behind, he'll place his head on your shoulder and he fully expects you to play with his hair or turn to the side and kiss him, no matter what you're doing.

✧ you wearing his clothes is a one-way ticket to see him being all mushy and lovesick. he tries to act like it doesn't affect him when you wear his hoodies, but you just look so adorable in it even though you're practically drowning in the fabric that he can't help but smile in a lovestruck daze.

✧ his other love language is quality time. he loves going out with you; to places you've never been to before and even to places that might seem mundane to other people. you want to go on a walk? he'll come with you. you need to go buy something? he'll go too. you need to study? suddenly he's a hardworking student who needs to study as well.

✧ he loves to spend time with you, no matter what you're doing. your presence is so comforting to him and if he can't go with you somewhere (in which case he'll be sulky), he'll text you while you're away.

✧ it might seem overbearing in retrospect but he really just loves it when you're around him. he understands that sometimes you need space and he respects that, he needs space sometimes too, but most of the time you'll find him clinging onto you.

✧ for your first anniversary, as much as he wanted to give you flowers, he quickly scratched that idea because he wanted something that you could keep forever, and that was when the perfect idea hit him: lego flowers !

✧ it would probably take him a while to finish building the set, but once he's done he would be so proud of himself and would present them to you with his cute little boxy smile. 100% would combust if you kept them on your desk or on your bedside table.

✧ arcade dates with him are so cute. he insists on winning you prizes and gets you so many plushies from the crane games that you're not even sure you'll have enough space in your room for them all.

✧ he adores street food and he adores you as well, so obviously street food dates with him are a no-brainer. he even blows on your food before feeding it to you himself so that you don't burn your tongue.

✧ matching keychains with him ! he doesn't really like over-the-top couple items, but matching keychains are a cute and simple way to show off your relationship while also being discreet.

✧ he wants you to be there when he practises dancing, mostly because he wants to show off and look cool in front of you, but it's also because whenever you're there, he finds himself performing better — just for you.

✧ ni-ki is young, and he's most definitely not sure what awaits him in his future, but if there's one thing he's sure about, then it would be that he hopes you'll be there with him even as you both grow older, with you in his arms just like always.

[justanamesstuff]

All I Need

Chapter 10 (the final chapter)

A/N: I want to thank all of you for supporting this fic so much since the start. Nothing would've the same without you, without your comments, wishes, excitement, encouragement, EVERYTHING. All of you that read it are a substantial part of 'All I Need' and I'll be forever grateful for it. I hope you like the end...have a happy reading, guys!!! 😘😘

Warnings: fluff, angst, swearing, smut (MINORS DON'T INTERACT!!!), baby in hospital, sickness, typos.

Word count: 9.8 K

Blog MASTERLIST

1 month later

Finally, the dynamic around the house came to a normal one. 

When Matty wasn’t away for a few days during the weeks doing shows –here and there– around the UK, he was at home with his girls. Amelia was stoic to have daddy’s time and attention. 

Y/n love to watch them play around the house, Matty was making his life purpose to play with his daughter when he had the time. Y/n would never admit it, but sometimes she sneaked behind the door after excusing herself to do some chores. Matty and Amelia were so engrossed into the game to notice that mommy was watching them like if it was a play. 

It was sweet to watch him when Amelia asked –as best as she could– Matty to play princesses. Over all, it was funny when she tried to make him fit into one of her tiny dresses. Matty was only able to fit his arms, and not even all the way. Whatever would make Amelia happy, her dad was ready to do. 

All of their games were fun to watch: from tea parties to being pirates. 

Y/n wanted to be as creative as he was, although her way to spend time with Amelia have to do more with watching films and spending hours without end drawing, or painting with their hands. 

Amelia and Y/n were in the middle of one of their’s mommy and daughter time before nap time watching ‘A Bug’s Life’, Amelia was getting a bit sleepy already. When, suddenly, Y/n felt a strange wave of heat brushed over her body. She got scared for a minute. Y/n stayed still, trying to find what was wrong inside her.

Trying not to startle her daughter, she managed to run towards the downstairs bathroom. All the content inside her stomach was flushed down the toilet a couple of minutes later. Y/n pushed the button, raising her hand as best as she could. Feeling tired after the sudden actions, she rested her forehead on the toilet for a second. 

Y/n tried to pick herself from the floor as best as she could. Once on her feet, she had a look at the bathroom mirror. The mirror's reflection showed a very pale woman. Y/n washed her face, hands, and teeth. 

Once again, beside Amelia, Y/n stared at her calmed face deep into sleep. She would let her sleep her nap on the couch. The spiral inside her head, ignoring the film, focusing on what was happening to her body.

If she was honest with herself, she hadn't kept her medical records really updated. What if…?

Y/n shook her head, trying not to think about the worst possible scenarios. Even when her mind kept pushing to think about how Amelia was going to lose her mother, and how Matty would manage being a single father. ‘It’s only a stomach bug’, Y/n thought for herself. Adding a mental note to book a visit with her doctor.

******************************************

Y/n stirred when a hand brushed the apple of her check. Her first instinct was to look after Amelia, she was on the floor playing with blocks of different colours. Y/n felt relieved, resting again on the cushions, closing her eyes. 

“So, am I invisible or what?” Matty asked from her side, surprising her. 

Matty was supposed to arrived two days later, even though he was there and that was what only mattered for Y/n. 

She opened her eyes wide, focusing on his form, “What the f-” Y/n couldn’t help to launch her body to be closer to him. Matty huffed, feeling her body on top of his. “You are home early!” Y/n shouted on his ear. The singer laughed about it, rounding her with his arms. 

Matty looked tired, although there was something about his hair –it was shorter, there were still long curls to ran her hands through– and his casual outfit –something rare on him–, that made Y/n felt feral about him. Nothing that she would tell him. 

“Hello to you too, baby.” Matty joked, happily, touching the width of her back. She was wearing the –his– blue hoodie, and his heart couldn’t help to skip a bit about her wearing his clothes. 

“Hi, Matty.” Y/n said more shyly this time, staring at his eyes. He was directly staring at her, making Y/n feel a chaotic mix of warm feelings inside her.

Matty let his right hand make its way towards the back of her head, “Come here.” he pushed her face closer to his, gently. Matty left a chaste kiss on Y/n’s lips. “Agh, I missed you.” he mumbled in them.

Y/n pushed back a little, “You went away for three days…” she pestered him. 

“Haven’t you missed me?” 

She faked thinking about it, “Mmm, I think I’ve noticed I didn’t have my personal heating at night.”

“Oh, am I an object for you now?” Matty continued inquiring her. Y/n felt his touch everywhere, being hyperconscious of him closer to her body. 

Y/n brushed her hair back, “What else then?”

Matty pouted visibly,  “Meany.”

“Stop crying, Healy.” Y/n pecked his lips sweetly, letting her lips detached from his slowly and painfully sexy for him. 

“And do what?” he replied suggestively, pushing Y/n’s body closer.

During the past month, the tension was raising, although neither of them dared to do something significantly about it. Matty and Y/n, both, were terrified about the idea of scaring away the other. Even though, they thought about being tangled with the other a lot.

Y/n rounded his shoulders, “Kiss me.” she said, directly.

Matty smiled wide. “My pleasure.”

Y/n tried to keep the kiss PG rated, because Amelia was around. It was hard when Matty was kissing her like they haven’t seen each other for years. She sighted loud. 

The sound, coming from her mother’s mouth, startled Amelia. The little girl paddled towards her parents.

“Mommy, mommy.” she tried to gain her mother’s attention, making grabby hands.

Y/n picked Amelia up, leaving her between their bodies. Matty groaned when Y/n moved far from his embrace, although having his daughter close made him happy.

“The Healy’s are needy people.” Y/n teased Matty. 

“Daddy!” she chanted, falling on her bum resting her back on Y/n’s side, even though she stared at her father with admiration. 

Matty rolled his eyes at Y/n, “As if you aren’t needy from time to time.”

“‘m not.” she defended herself, brushing back Amelia’s hair with only her hands.

“Do you want to be one?” 

Y/n knew what Matty was referring to, although she preferred to joke about it. “A needy person?”

“Aren’t we all a little bit needy?” Matty got distracted by the topic for a second. “But- No, I mean the other…don’t you-” he tried to continue his idea, getting mixed up with the words because he was scary of her reaction to it.

Y/n chuckled softly. It wasn’t common for Matty to be that shy, so she was going to take advantage of the moment, “What?” she asked, sporting a big smile.

“Forget it.” he muttered, stubborn. Matty changed his attention from Y/n to Amelia, leaning forward to be face to face at her high. “Mommy is being mean with daddy.” he informed her, pouting visibly. Amelia’s smile disappeared seeing his daddy looking sad, Matty opened his arms instructing her –silently– to be closer to him. She obeyed. “I need kisses.” Amelia planted a few open-mouthed kisses on his cheek. Matty didn’t want her to grow up any more. His little baby was perfect. 

“No! Tell me!” Y/n interrupted the little moment between father and daughter, continuing with the discussion.

“No, you don’t want. I get it. Fine.” Matty said, offended.

Y/n snorted, his frown wrinkling his forehead and the still lingering pout made him look so cute. “You never really asked!” she protested.

“You implied it.” Matty narrowed his eyes.

“Daddy!” Amelia called him. Matty looked down at her.

“Mel-mel!” he repeated her tone.

Y/n couldn’t stop smiling. She mischievous said, “I do want.”

“Stop.” Matty’s cheeks turning crimson with the implication of her words.

“Matty!”

“What?”

“Ask me!”

He was going to keep his front steady until the last consequences, “I don’t want any more.” It was his time to teased her a little. Tango is danced by two. 

“Baby.” Y/n started whining.

The singer tried with all his force to prevent the smile creping from the corner of his lips. “Fine.” Matty rolled his eyes at her. He waited a few seconds, extending the moment to make it more dramatic, then he asked,  “Do you want to be a Healy?”

Y/n made direct eye contact with him. “You’ll have to get down on one knee to find out.” 

“Fuck you!” Matty spat.

Y/n scolded him right away from it, “Matthew!” looking at Amelia staring at her parent's talk.

“Sorry, my love.” Matty kissed Amelia’s head.

“I love you”  Y/n said, still grinning from ear to ear.

“Oh, you’re in a mood today.” Matty stated.

“So, you don’t love me? Okay, perfect.” Y/n faked being angry. Sometimes it was fun for her to joke with him. Y/n knew that Matty was down for that kind of silly games with her. “I’m going to cook Amelia’s dinner.” she let her words linger in the air, not glancing at her daughter and father. Which obviously pissed Matty.

He started to protest from the couch, “Y/n, you started-”

“No, I get it, Matty!” she answered from the kitchen, gathering the ingredients she needed. “With all this models and beautiful girls surrounding you-” 

Matty stopped her abruptly, “Y/n-”

She continued to rant, without acknowledging his presence,  “I can see why you don’t love me any more. Three days away-”

Even with Amelia in his arms, Matty took Y/n by the arm, flushing her body to his. He shut her words with a strong kiss, making her feel weak on the knees. Y/n was the first one to break the kiss because she starts laughing nervously directly on his lips.

Matty pushed back a few centimetres to glance at her eyes, saying, “I love you, you’re the love of my life.” 

“Oh, really?” Y/n couldn’t drop the teasing, if she did, she feared she would fell to the floor. He made her weak like no one else. 

“Yes!” Matty was growing desperate with her.

“What about your daughter?” Amelia was resting her head on Matty’s shoulder, enjoying the warmth his body provided. 

“Our daughter. Half you…besides, that’s another universe of love…” Matty spoke messily, he wanted Y/n to know how deep he had fallen for her and how much she really meant to him.

“Right.” Y/n pattered his chest softly.

“I love you.” Matty sentenced in a very serious tone. 

Y/n looked at his eyes, “I love you, ratty.” 

Matty groaned loud, “Agh!” Y/n hide her head on his neck, kissing the skin there while she enjoyed his scent. 

***********************************

Late at night, Matty made himself comfortable in Y/n’s bed, behind her. He knew she wasn’t still asleep, even though the lights were off, and they were ready to drift.

The singer sneaked his arms, one under her neck and his right hand touching slowly her waist. His fingers made a loving path on her skin, until his hand rested with the palm open on her belly. Matty felt how Y/n’s body stiffened.

He tried not to look too much into it, feeling better when Y/n relaxed under his touch. Matty drifted minutes later.

—------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Two days later

Right after Matty left for the gym, Grace showed up at the door as if she could sense when he wasn’t there. Y/n found that funny. 

Her best friend was nursing a cup of tea, enjoying the rare sunny day with Y/n and Amelia. The little girl took advantage of the day to explore the garden. From time to time she went from picking flowers, to kicking a ball –showing the Manchester United’ logo– long forgotten outside. 

“Fill me in.” Grace moved beside Y/n who was staring at her daughter to make sure she was alright. 

“About?”

“About you and the rat.” Grace said as if it was obvious. 

Y/n chuckled, “Are you ever going to stop calling him that?”

“Never.”

“Right.”

“So?”

“There isn’t much. We’re okay.” Y/n glanced down at her almost empty cup. 

“Are you trying for a baby yet?” Grace grinned behind the poetry, hiding it from Y/n. Amelia’s mother glanced at Grace with her eyes blanked. 

“We haven’t-”

“Why?”

Y/n tried to give Grace an explanation when she didn’t even have one. “We are taking things easy this time.”

“Oh, come on…you sleep together! Same bed! Are you still sleeping on the same bed, right?” Grace pushed her body closer to Y/n.

“Yes.”

“Then?”

“I don’t know, Grace!” Y/n shouted, frustrated.

Y/n’s friend held her hands up, showing her innocence…or trying. Y/n shook her head from side to side rapidly, trying to stop thinking about the matter for a second.

“Do you want to?” Grace asked the million question.

“Of course!” Y/n exclaimed way too quickly for her liking, so her hand went straightly to her mouth. Grace fell backwards on the outside couch, laughing very loudly. 

“Whore.” she moved her arms on the air, as she was envisioning a sign with the word. 

“Grace!” Y/n scolded her friend. It was a difficult mission as a parent to keep her away from the swearing.

“Sorry, mel-mel.” she shouted. “Mommy is needy!” Amelia came closer, titling her head, trying to understand her godmother’s words.

“Oh my god, Grace!” 

The little girl got distracted quickly by a bunch of butterflies around a bunch of flowers. She ran towards them. 

Grace went to ask, “Have you tried-”

“No.” Y/n interrupted her.

“Y/n!” Grace protested. “Are you going for a monk's lifestyle or what? He’s your boyfriend!” she pushed her body up again.

“Is he?” Y/n asked, making a weird face expression.

“I don’t know. Is he?”

“Maybe?”

“I swear…two idiots in love.” Grace affirmed, falling back once more. “Don’t be like your parents, Ames!” she screamed. 

“Thank you, Grace!”

“Hear me out, put some nice outfit…go on a date, and- you know!” Grace encouraged Y/n, knowing that from time to time her friend needed a little push to do the things she was excited about.

“What if he doesn’t want?” Y/n bit her nails, nervously.

“Bet you, a hundred quid, he’s going to say yes!” Grace sat back up. “Call him.”

Matty made his appearance, startling them, “Call who?”

“Fucking hell!” Grace cried out, making Y/n rolled her eyes at her. “Why you always do that, Healy?” she spat at him. 

Once Amelia’s sight fell on Matty’s form, she ran towards him, colliding with his legs. The frontman picked her up, kissing the crown of her head.

“Do what?” he asked.

“Come out of the blue, scaring the heck out of me!” Grace continued, meanwhile, Matty went to kiss Y/n openly in the mouth. Y/n’s friend inevitable grinned at them. 

Matty felt Grace’s staring, “What now?” he asked, not moving too far from Y/n’s side.

“Tell him, Y/n/n!” she chose to ignore his question, encouraging Y/n once again to ask him out.

“I hate you.” Y/n mumbled.

“Oh, no! You’re going to thank me later.” Grace winked at her.

“Tell me what?” Matty took a sit beside Y/n, leaving Amelia on the floor. He was scared of the two women conversations.

Y/n turned her body away from Grace, closer to Matty’s. She dared to ask him, “Do you want to go out?” with a lack of interest. 

Matty stared at her face. “Sure, don’t make it sound so fun, Y/n!” Grace screamed from between her hands, amplifying her voice, making Matty laughed.

“Are you asking me on a date, Y/n?” Matty combed her hair back, staring at her eyes and then her lips, making Y/n blush. 

“Yes?”

“I agree with the menace here.” Matty pointed, with a movement of his head, in Grace’s direction. “Ask me properly.”

Y/n closed her eyes for a moment, trying to ignore the embarrassment. “Do you want to go out with me, Matty?” she finally inquired.

“Yes.” Matty replied without skipping a bit.

“Told ya!” Grace pushed herself from the couch, jumping as a signal of victory. “Give me my money!” she extended her hand towards Y/n.

Matty stared at the pair of friends, “Excuse me?”

“I never agreed to that, Grace!” Y/n glanced at her best friend, offended. 

Grace fought back, “You considered it!” 

Y/n chose to ignore her, returning her attention to Matty.

“Tonight works for you?” he didn’t wait to ask. 

She wiggled her eyebrows, “Someone’s eager, Healy?”

“About a date with my girlfriend? Always.”

“Oh, girlfriend!” Grace teased her specially. 

“I hate her.” Y/n whispered for Matty, although Grace heard it.

“You don’t! And thank me because you’re going to get some because I’ll look after your daughter.”

“We can ask Denise…”

“Actually, no,” Matty scratched the back of his head. “She was doing some shit today.” 

“See?” Grace felt like she won the competition. 

Y/n’s friend was beyond happy for her friend, she couldn’t help to feel like the victory was more about that than anything personal.

*****************************************

Y/n walked down the stairs. Matty was waiting at the bottom of the stairs, looking extremely handsome from Y/n’s perspective. 

Even though she was the one to ask him out, he was in charge of picking the place. Matty only instructed her to dress comfy, a fancy restaurant wasn’t the option. 

Matty was wearing cream white trousers, a black t-shirt showing a simple design and on his feet a pair of black and white sneakers. It was so simple, although he pulled it off perfectly. Y/n, on the other hand, wore a black skirt –showing her legs–, a white plain shirt and Matty’s flannel on top. She carried a jean jacket on her arm, just in case the night was too cold. 

“That’s my flannel?” Matty asked first. 

“Maybe?” Y/n worried he might hate her from stealing it. “You left it in my bedroom…I can chang-”

The frontman took a few steps, stopping under the one Y/n was standing. He took her hand on his, leaving a kiss on it.“You look beautiful, baby.” 

“Because I’m wearing your clothes?” Y/n teased him. 

“Because you are beautiful and my wardrobe suits you.” he winked up at her. 

Y/n faked coughing, saying, “Territorial.”

“Ready?”

“Yes! Scared because I don’t know where are we going.” Y/n admitted, walking all the way down the stairs without letting his hand go. 

“You’ll see.” Matty replied, cryptic. 

“I’m going to say bye to Amelia, and then I’m ready.” Y/n told him, when they reached the floor. 

Grace was in the kitchen with Amelia. The little girl standing on a high bench made for her, so she can actually see when they cook or do something on the counter. 

“Oh, you look hot!” Y/n’s friend complemented her when Y/n entered the room.

“Thanks!” she said, lifting Amelia to hug her. “Are you going to have fun with Grace?”

“Yes.” Amelia giggled, hugging Y/n. 

Grace analysed her outfit, “That’s Matty’s…?” 

“Yes.”

“Sexy!” 

“Stop, Grace.” Y/n shut her. “Okay, bye mel-mel.” 

“Bye.” Amelia answered in her cute voice..

“Mommy loves you so” Y/n kissed her cheek soundly. “so, so, so” she continued, leaving kisses “much!” making her daughter chuckled and trying to hide from it. 

“Ove you, mommy!” she said back.

After the cute moment, Y/n left her again on the bench. 

She went to hug Grace from behind, “Behave!” she instructed.

“Off course not!” Grace snorted. “Have fun! I’m happy for you guys.” she truthfully said.

“I love you.”

“Stop with the goodbyes…you’re not going to die, you’re going on a date!”

For a moment, Y/n’s mind couldn’t help to go directly to the multiple times she had been sick during the past weeks. Again, she had forgotten to book an appointment with her doctor. She would do it the next day.

“Say it back, grace!” Y/n urged her.

“Fine.” she whipped her hands. “I adore your crazy ass!” Grace admitted. 

Y/n left a last kiss on her cheek, shouting a quick, “Bye!” running down the hall to meet Matty.

*************************************

Y/n got confused when Matty stopped the car in front of the studio. Her sight went from the iconic door to Matty’s face. He was making sure everything turned off. The singer wasn’t aware of her staring. 

“Are you going to work?” Y/n decided to be frontal about her doubts.

“No.” Matty chuckled. “This is all about you, us…” he said, taking her hand.

“Explain to me why we are the studio then…”

Matty leaned forward, kissing her softly. “You have to wait, baby.” he recommended her, leaving the car. 

Y/n saw him round the vehicle, going to open the boot. Matty closed it with a big sound, at the same time he carried a basket on his hand. She didn’t recall him putting it there when they got in the car. 

Matty made signals for her to follow him. Y/n did, hearing the sound of the security system being turned on by him.

“What that’s for?” 

“Y/n, I’m going to cover your eyes with something if you keep trying to guess.” Matty warned her.

“Kinky.” she cheekily said. Matty’s mouth opened and closed repeatedly, shocked with her words. Speechless, she left him. “This is not fair. I asked you out!” Y/n whined.

“I was faster to make a plan!” Matty offered her his hand, which Y/n took it happily.

Hand in hand, Matty conducted Y/n through all the halls and door the studio had until the last one appeared in front of them. The one leading towards the rooftop. 

“You’re crazy!” Y/n turned to tell Matty, after taking a look at the big blanket on the floor surrounded by cushions and fairy lights. She couldn’t believe he did all of that in record time for her.

“George is going to make me pay for this…forever.” Matty admitted, letting go of her hand to left the basket in the middle of the blanket.

Matty stood there, staring at her, looking around. Her eyes full of something that Matty hoped it was because of him and only him. 

“Do you hate it?” he nervously asked her.

Y/n returned her sight to him. It felt like a dream come true. “I love it, Matty!” Y/n moved faster to hug him tight. She was hoping it wasn’t only a dream. 

“Let’s eat then.” Matty shook her playfully. 

They spend a nice evening eating all the delicious food —Matty admitted that Grace helped him, detail that surprised Y/n–, chatting about everything —included their sunshine baby– and stealing kisses meanwhile the sun settle down behind them.

******************************

Y/n fell with a thud on the studio’s couch, bringing Matty down to rest on top of her. She held his head between her hands, kissing him, letting him know her intentions. 

Matty broke it, supporting his weigh on his arms. His short t-shirt exposing his strong arms, making her mouth watered at the sight. Y/n pushed her hips up to meet his, founding his hard on. 

“Fuck, love.” Matty hissed. “You deserve better than a quickie at the couch-” his words were interrupted by Y/n’s actions, letting her hand wandered down his body. She rested her right hand on his crouch, driving him insane. 

“Matty, I need you. I don’t care where.” she told him, staring at his face. His eyes were closed, enjoying her touch where he craved her the most; his lips parted, showing how moisturized his mouth was.

“I missed this so much.” Matty breathed out, bucking his hips forwards.

“Have you been thinking about me, baby?” Y/n squeezed his cock, making him drop a heavenly amount of moans from his mouth. Matty couldn’t care less if the neighbours could hear him.

“You don’t even want to know.” he managed to say through clenched teeth.

“Oh, I do want, my love.”

“Fuck.” Matty gained back some of his composure, tracing a path from her left knee towards her core under the skirt that droved him crazy through the whole evening. “You’re so ready for me.” Matty felt the wetness damping her lacy underwear. He needed to be inside her sooner, or he would explode inside his trousers. 

“Since we left home.” Y/n admitted, fighting with his zip. 

Matty got rid of his shirt, muttering a low and raspy, “Y/n.”

On a quick rush, Matty pushed his trousers and boxers down enough to have his dick out of them. Y/n stared at his form, feeling extremely hot. She couldn’t rip her sight from him, while she pushed her shirt up, revealing her breasts.��

Matty palmed himself, glancing at his favourite part of her. He didn’t want to wait any more. 

Y/n moved her panties to the side, silently telling him to penetrate her. Her wishes were his command, so he did. 

Matty let his body fell forward until their foreheads were touching. Y/n couldn’t even gasp out loud, feeling how he was slowly entering her. 

Once his tip touched her special spot, Matty took notice of her tight grip on him. He let his hands wandered towards her boobs, trying to patently wait for her to be comfortable enough. His blood was pumping hard in the veins all over his body, and her scent was infecting his senses. 

Y/n tried to breathe in and out, getting used to his girth –again–. 

“Please, Matty. Move!” she begged him.

With a wet sound, Matty let go the nipple he was sucking, replacing his mouth with his hand once more. He was obsessed with her breasts, he could spend an entire day just sucking and nibbling her nipples. 

“Are you sure?” he checked with her. 

“Please.” Y/n arched her body, pushing her boob further into his touch. 

Matty started moving slowly, keeping his eyes on her face, just to be sure she was alright. Y/n had her eyes closed, losing herself in the sinful pleasures he was driving from her. 

The singer protested against it, “Y/n!” he suddenly said, making her open her eyes as far as she could. 

“Mhm.” she replied to the call. 

“Eyes on me, baby.” Matty ordered her, retracting almost all the way out. Y/n whined. “Shush, be a good girl for me.”

“Mhm.” Y/n changed the intonation, trying to say she was. The words didn’t come to her mind. 

“Are you a good-” Matty stopped the words from coming out, when he pushed all the way in. “Are you a good girl for me, baby?” he fully asked this time.

“Mhm.” 

“Words, Y/n.” required taking her face on one of his hands, tight but without hurting her. 

Y/n looked at him through half opened eyes. “Yes!” she told him, feeling how he moved in and out more eagerly. “I’m…I’m!” she chanted. “Please!”

“Are you close?” Matty let go of her face, burring his on her neck.  Y/n let her legs round his middle. 

“So close!” she informed him. “Faster, Matty!” Y/n implored him.

Matty did as he was being told. Founding a good rhythm that worked for both of them. 

Y/n tried to keep her eyes fully opened when Matty returned to stared at her eyes. Their faces closer than ever, while their bodies moved in unison. 

“Matty-” she whimpered softly.

“I know, I know.” 

“I’m cl-”

“Come for me, baby.” he allowed her. 

Matty’s worked like magic over her tired body. Y/n came undone, feeling herself creamed all over Matty’s cock. Her pussy squeezing tight around him was what brought Matty to his own orgasm, pushing sloppily inside her cunt. 

Y/n wait until his released was done, touching his muscular back with all the love she had more him. Matty let his weight fell on her. 

“It’s never this good with someone else.” Matty, drunk of his orgasm, let it slip through his lips.

“Are you thinking about other girls when you’re still inside me, Healy?” Y/n tried to joke.

“What? No.” he mumbled on her skin. “I’m saying-”

“I know, baby. I know.” Y/n left a kiss on his sweaty forehead, making him sighed. 

**************

Y/n woke up, coming into the realization that they fell asleep on the couch after Matty pulled out of her. She couldn’t think too much about it because a new wave of sickness took over her. 

As gentle as she could, Y/n got out from Matty’s embrace and ran towards the bathroom. Being thankful there wasn’t a single soul at the studio, since she was fully naked. Minutes after, Y/n launched towards the toilet, emptying her stomach.

Y/n tried to be cool about it, rinsing her mouth and washing her face with cold water.

When she returned to Matty’s side, the singer woke up. 

“Y/n?”

Y/n sat on the edge of the couch, feeling how Matty extended his arms to touched her. “Hey,” she let her hand ran through his curls. “We should get back home.”

“Are you okay?” Matty glanced up at her face.

“Yes, something I eat must’ve irritated my stomach.” she told him, touching the area.

Matty let his hand rest on top of hers, pushing his body up. “Baby-” he caressed the skin of her hand. 

“I’m okay.” Y/n calmed his worries, touching his face. Matty went to kiss her, but she stopped him, “Don’t…” Y/n let her fingertips touch his soft and pinky lips. 

“Why?” Matty dissented.

“What if I have a virus or something?”

“Then we’re going to have it…” the frontman took her hand on his, placing it where his ‘true love’ tattoo was. “I’m not going to stop kissing you only for a bug.” he scoffed. 

“Matty…”

“You sure you’re okay?” his worries taking over again.

“Yes, but can we go home?” 

“Of course, my love.” Matty left a kiss on the corner of her mouth, partially respecting her point.

—------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Weeks later

Y/n and Grace were in the living room watching Amelia stare with all the love inside her little body at the little animals on the screen. She was obsessed with PAW Patrol currently, and  she constantly asked for it.

Matty had been away for the whole week until that point. Grace was trying her best to distract Y/n because she noticed something was off, and her best friend wasn’t having a great time. Hence why Grace and Y/n were discussing which one of the boys was each of the dogs.

“That’s Matty!” Grace shouted.

“Of course not! Marshall is clearly George…he’s ready to extinguish Matty’s fires.” Y/n knew she had won the battle. 

Grace folded her arms, knowing she had lost the battle. “You’re so wrong.” 

Y/n laughed at her childish behaviour, reaching for her phone. Out of instinct, she opened Instagram, bumping into news about her boyfriend. A new article.

“Fuck, not again!” Y/n rolling her eyes at the article. 

That took Grace’s attention, “What?”

“Look.” Y/n let her have the phone to read the headline. 

‘Close source: Matty (Healy) is after a worldwide model.’  

“They never give up!” 

“Never.”

Grace returned the phone to its owner, when the device started ringing, showing Matty’s contact information.

Y/n answered calmly, “Hello?”

“Darlin’, I swear it’s not-” Matty rushed his words, trying to explain Y/n all he knew. 

Y/n cut him, “I know, baby.”

“I don’t know where this came from, and Jamie is talking with the journalist-” she could picture him, walking around his hotel room, tugging his curls anxiously. 

“Matty?” Y/n interrupted him again, trying to be as sweet and calm as possible. 

Although, he continued with his ranting. “Meet her once in my life, and it was years ago, I don’t even have her phone num-”

“Matty!” Y/n shouted sternly, walking away from Grace and Amelia. 

“What?”

“I’m not making the same mistake twice. I believe you.”

“You do?” her heart warming with his disbelief. The urge to have him close was strong.

“Yes, my love.”

“I can ask Jamie to talk with you if you need.” Matty offered, still not fully taking in that she believed his words.

“I don’t. I trust you, boyfriend.” 

“Thank god, baby.” Matty breathe easier. “Going through that shit again- I can’t even think about it.”

“Hey, hey…we’re okay.”

“Okay.”

“I love you.”

“I love you so much.”

“I know.” Y/n chuckled, feeling like a teenager. “When are you coming home again?”

“Tomorrow afternoon.” Matty complained about it, feeling like he had to wait years and not only hours to be home again.

“Perfect.”

A chaotic and repeatedly sound knocking on Matty’s door reached Y/n’s ear. 

“I gotta go now.” Matty informed her. 

“Okay, bye…I love you.”

“Bye, love you so much more.” Matty’s voice broke at the end. He wasn’t going to waste a single day without showering in his love.

“Bye, bye.”

Y/n held her phone, staring at the kitchen floor with a smile bigger than her face. Grace came from behind, startling her a little.

“I feel so single right now.” she protested.

Y/n felt a laugh coming from the depth of her stomach, shaking her body entirely. “Shut up!” 

“Maybe I like hi-” Grace commenced to joke about Matty, when her head turned around like a whip. “Y/n?” she called her, desperate.

“What?” Y/n answered without looking.

Amelia had starting puking on the living room’s floor. Grace rushed to her side when her body fought the surprise. 

“Y/n!” Grace tried again, being careful to not scream too loud to scare Amelia.

Y/n ran to them, moving Grace from the middle. She went to held Amelia, rubbing her back, trying to not freak out looking at the mess in the floor. 

After a few minutes, Amelia stopped. She looked down at the weird mass there, her eyes watering when panic stroked her little body. The little girl turned around crying with all the force she had left, going to hide on Y/n’s chest. She took her in right again.

“It’s okay, baby.” Amelia’s cries raised, breaking Grace and Y/n’s heart. “I know, I know. Mommy’s here.” Y/n rocked her softly, rubbing her back to sooth her.

“What’s wrong with mel?” Grace dared to ask.

“Maybe she ate something. I’ve been like this for a few weeks now. I’m starting to get worried about it.” Y/n admitted, not fully thinking about the words she was letting out, too focused on her daughter.

“Nausea?”

“No, no…only puking from time to time.”

An idea grew inside Grace’s mind, making her open her eyes wide. 

“Y/n.” she started.

“It’s probably some stomach virus-” 

Grace interrupted her, “Y/n!” 

Amelia’s mother, still holding the crying and scared baby, turned her head to look at Grace. 

“Excuse the formalities,” Grace excused herself. “Since when you haven’t had your period?” 

Y/n perfectly knew for what Grace was aiming.

“What? No, it’s not-”

“Y/n! Shut up and think!”

“I can’t remember!”

“More than a week? Two?” Grace counted with her fingers.

“More than a month and a half…” Y/n felt her cheeks hot.

“Fucking hell!” Grace shouted, making Amelia cry harder. Y/n stared at Amelia’s godmother, angry. “Sorry, sorry, baby.” Grace went to touch the little girl’s cheeks. “Y/n, you need to do a pregna-”

Y/n shushed her, “Don’t say it!”

“I’m going to drop by the shops and be right back.” Grace stood up, Y/n tried to stop her, but with Amelia in that state she had a priority. 

“Grace!”

“It’s fine, it’s fine…but you need to get rid of the doubt!” Y/n friend said, disappearing.

***************************

Y/n tried to occupy her mind and her hands with something else while Grace was out. 

After her daughter calmed down a little, she took her up to bathe her and change her clothes, since some vomit fell on her shirt. Y/n sang softly for her a little anthem that Matty came up for his daughter and only her. With it, she sensed Amelia relax, and even enjoy the bath time. Y/n managed to even brushed her teeth properly without a single tantrum.

Y/n let Amelia rest on the couch, keeping her body closer. They were watching a new episode of PAW Patrol, when Y/n’s hand rested partly on her forehead and crown of her head. The area was warm, way too warm. Y/n readjusted it to feel her forehead only. Amelia had a fever going on. Her mother kissed her head, deciding she was going to wait to see if it was related with her being sick earlier or not. 

Grace stumbled, out of breath, into the room, holding a brown bag. “Okay, here.” she extended the bag. When her sight fell on Y/n’s face, she asked, “Did she vomit again?”

“No…but I think she’s the flu or something.” Y/n let her know, without ripping her eyes from Amelia. 

 “I’ll stay with Mel…shout if you need help.” Grace rushed her to move, making signals with her hands. 

“Fine.”

Y/n took the bag on her hand without speaking one more word. She walked the short way to the bathroom, feeling like her feet weight like concrete. 

It wasn’t her first time taking one of those tests, so the process was quicker than expected. Even though the worries clouding her mind took all of her attention. Y/n couldn’t recall detail by detail what she had been doing for a few minutes.  

She let the sticks in the bathroom, setting the alarm to wait the minutes the instructions put. 

“So?” Grace asked right away.

Y/n took a seat at the other end of the couch, “Have to wait.”

“Okay.” her friend stared at her to then returned to the screen.

Y/n started tapping her feet on the floor, driving Grace crazy. 

“Stop that!”

“I can’t help it.” Y/n pushed her body forward, resting her elbows on her knees, rubbing her face way too harsh. 

“At least-” Grace started to talk when the timer went off.

“Can’t do it.” Y/n stood on her feet, walking from side to side. Luckily, Amelia had fallen asleep. 

“What?”

“Look for me.” Y/n begged.

“Fine.” Grace agreed to it. She moved, letting Amelia rest on the couch, and going to the bathroom. 

Y/n’s eyes fell on her daughter. The possibility of another beautiful baby like her, even a boy, made her heart fluttered. 

Grace didn’t spend a long time in the bathroom, returning with the sticks on her hand.

“Tell me.” Y/n hurried her friend.

“Haven’t seen them.”

“Then look!”

“Okay, first one…” Grace recounted what she was reading.

“Aha.”

“Negative.” Y/n’s friend said without imprinting an emotion to her words.

Y/n felt a wave of disappointment. “Mhm.” she swallowed thick.

“Second.”

Y/n didn’t speak, feeling a wave of sickness creeping her throat. She tried to keep it under control.

“Positive.”

“You have to be kidding me!” Y/n exclaimed, giggling.

“‘m not.”

“And the last one?”

“Inconsistent.” Grace told Y/n, looking directly to her eyes. She saw how Y/n’s smile fell from her face, turning to a worried expression. 

“So I might be?”

“Or maybe not.”

“Shit.” Y/n let her face fell on her hands. Thinking hard about it all.

“You need to do the blood test.” Grace stated.

“Since when you know so much about pregnancies?”

“Since my best friend had a baby, do you remember how it was with Amelia?”

“Yes.”

“Well, I did my research.”

“I’m going to call the clinic.” Y/n reached for her phone and midway stopped.“Grace, what if I am…what Matty is going to think?” she worried. 

“I don’t know, but I bet he’s going to be okay with it.” Grace took her hands between hers. 

“And if he’s not…what would I do?”

“Y/n, first thing first…call the doctor, do the test.” 

Y/n did as she was being told, booking an appointment for the next day. She needed to know and quick. 

—------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The next day

Y/n opened the front door for Matty, holding Amelia, who refused to be away from mommy. Even the night before, Y/n resolved for them to sleep together –on Y/n’s bed– after Amelia refused to sleep in her crib. She made her point, crying for an entire hour. 

Matty had his hands full when he made his way inside the house.

“Hello.” he sang, especially for his daughter.

“Hi.” Y/n answered for both of them. Her sight going to Amelia’s face, “Say hi to daddy.” she encouraged her.

“Daddy.” Amelia shortly spoke, rubbing her eye, resting her head on Y/n’s shoulder.

Matty noticed something was clearly off, “What’s wrong, baby?” he dropped everything he was carrying, without minding the mess, going to check on Amelia. 

“She’s a bit sick.” Y/n filled him in Amelia’s current state. 

Matty brushed her curls back, approaching his face to hers. He wanted to take away whatever was bothering her little body and suffer himself instead of his baby.

“Oh, no! Come here.” he didn’t hesitate to take Amelia. “We’re cuddling until mel-mel gets better.” he adjusted her on his side, walking towards the living room.

Y/n followed behind them, sharing a silent look with Matty when he turned around to check she was in fact walking behind them.

******************************

“Matty?”

“Yes, baby?”

“I have to head out for a couple of hours…can you look after Mel?” Y/n asked for the favour. 

“Yes, ‘course!” he looked at the exhausted baby. Amelia had been drifting in and out of sleep, being interrupted by Matty or Y/n to drink water or check her temperature.

“I’ll be right back. Whatever happens, you call me, okay?” Y/n didn’t entirely want to leave when Amelia was that sick, although she needed to know what was going on inside her own body.

“Sure.”

Matty stared at Y/n, who leaned down kissing Amelia, being careful not to wake her. “Bye, sweet cheeks. I love you” 

“Mhm.” Amelia groaned on Matty's shoulder, without waking up.

“Bye.” Y/n pecked Matty quickly. 

Y/n left so suddenly that Matty wasn’t able to reply to her goodbye, and his mind started running in circles about what was happening to her. 

***************************************************************

Hours passed, Amelia was getting hotter and hotter. She whined constantly for half an hour, and Matty was unsure about his options. He tried to google but desist from it since nothing made sense online. 

He was worried and Y/n wasn’t coming home. The frontman send her a bunch of texts, but she wasn’t seeing them. 

When Amelia barely managed to open her eyes and her forehead burned his hand, he decided to start calling Y/n.

“Y/n, pick up, pick up.” he whispered, not leaving Amelia’s side. 

He stopped hearing the characteristic tone calling, to the robotic voice saying: ‘the line is out of…’. Matty cut it, staring at his screen. 

“Fucking hell, where’s she?” he said, annoyed, going to call her again.

He tried multiple times, checking Amelia between tries. The same answer over and over again. Matty wasn’t going to quit until Y/n’s voice came from the other end of the line.

“Please, baby.”

One, two, three tones…

“Hi, Matty.” Y/n picked up.

“Finally! Where the fuck are you?” he shouted at her.

Y/n’s voice shaking from fear, she pictured the worst, “What’s wrong?”

“Where are you?”

“Stop replying with questions! What’s going on? Amelia”

“Amelia is boiling, Y/n. She’s whining, and I don’t know how- I’ve tried everything. Nothing is working.” 

“Did you take her temperature?”

“Yes, Y/n. She’s almost at 40º C”

“For how long?”

“‘Fuck I know. I’ve been trying to bring it down, it’s impossible…and calling you- I’m going to take her to the ER.” he concluded.

“Okay, I’ll meet you there.” Y/n agreed silently that it was the best option.

“Where are you?”

“Um-”

“Y/n?”

“Which hospital are you going to take her?”

“The closest one.” Matty let Y/n know, going to pick his wallet and jacket. 

Y/n decided to be frontal about it, “I’m here.”

Matty stopped death in his tracks. “Y/n, please. What the fuck?”

“I’m okay, I’m okay.” she quickly reassured him.

“You almost gave me a heart attack!”

“I’m sorry, I’ll explain, okay? Just bring Amelia to the ER. I’ll be there.” He needed to be hurry up. 

“Okay, okay.”

“Bye.”

“Bye. I love you.”

“Love you, please hurry!” Y/n said before the line cut.

—------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Y/n was at the front desk, talking with two nurses, when Matty rushed in holding Amelia.

“Them!” Y/n said to the older woman, signalling with her fingers to father and daughter.

The youngest one walked closer to Matty, ready to take Amelia in her arms. When he didn’t move a muscle, the woman ordered, “Let me carry her.” with a calmed voice as if she went through situations like those a hundred of times.

“No.” Matty refused, making the people –waiting in the waiting room– to look at him. 

“Matty-” Y/n tried.

Matty stared at the nurse, saying, “Let me know where I have to take her.”

“Sir, we need to check her.”

Y/n went to stand beside Matty, touching his back. “It’s okay, she’s going to be okay.” Y/n tried to keep the calm.

Matty stared at Y/n. After an eye battle, he let the nurse take Amelia. They followed her to a room. 

“Stand there.” she instructed for the parents.

Y/n took his hand, squeezing it hard. They were too focused on Amelia laying at the emergency room’s bed to notice the doctor coming to check their daughter.

“Daddy.” Amelia moved her head, raving from the fever. Matty’s instinct was to be close to her, going to stand beside the rudimentary bed. 

“Sir, please stay back!” the doctor instructed him.

“Let me hold her hand.” Matty implored.

The doctor stared at the singer, thinking how to say no, when Amelia screamed again, breaking the silence of the room, “Daddy!” Matty didn’t wait for the man’s reply. His daughter was calling him.

“Okay, but stay out of the way, so we can work.” The doctor defeated by the parent. 

“Mhm.” Matty don’t even thank her, holding Amelia’s hand and brushing her wet curls back. Y/n tried to keep her tears at bay, her heart swelling for her baby girl. “We’re here, mel-mel. Mommy and daddy are here with you.” Matty whispered only for her. 

After a while, the doctor looked between Matty and Y/n. Choosing to talk with her. 

“Are you her mother?” she inquired. 

“Yes.”

“We need to take her to the operating room right away.”

Y/n felt how her blood disappeared from her head, going directly to her feet. She held a chair beside her, preventing from falling down.“What’s going on?”

“Her appendix has exploded, or it’s about to do it. We need to operate with urgency because it can cause irreversible-”

Y/n abruptly interrupted her, “Don’t tell me. Just do it, help her, please!” she pleaded desperate.

The doctor nodded with her head, deciding to keep her silence. She shared a look with the nurse, who went to give Amelia a painkiller.

“Sir, you need to move now.” 

“Matty-” Y/n called him.

“What are you going to do with her?”

“They need to intervene her, Matty.” Y/n explained.

The nurse tenderly instructed them, “Please, go to the waiting room. I’ll keep you guys updated, I promise.” she said more for Y/n than Matty.

“Thank you.” Y/n thanked her.

Matty and Y/n saw how they took Amelia away.

********************************************

Waiting room

Y/n studied the people around the waiting room. She needed something to focus while waiting. The nurse appeared –as she promised– from time to time saying everything was okay, but they still were working. 

“Here.” Matty offered Y/n a coffee, arriving after visiting the hospital’s buffet. 

Y/n rejected, “No, thank you.”

“Y/n, you need to drink or eat something.” Matty took a seat beside her, placing her arm around her shoulders. 

“I know, but-”

“‘m also scared althoug-”

“Matty, it’s not that.” she stopped him. “I’m 100% sure everything is going to be fine. Amelia is going to be fine.” 

“Yes.” Matty bobbed his head. “What’s then?”

Y/n kept her silence, returning to look around the room. Matty didn’t push her, although his mind instantly went to his principal worry before Amelia got worse. 

“Why were you here? Are you okay?” he took a sip of his coffee, oblivious to Y/n’s next announcement. 

“I-” she started, worried of his reaction. The words getting stucked on her throat.

“Y/n-” Matty took his arm away from her body, turning to the side to fully stared at her face. Trying to find the answers he was craving. 

“Remember how I’ve been feeling sick from a time to now?” Y/n asked, without hesitation this time. Her sight falling on a little boy running around his father. 

“I do.”

“Amelia puked yesterday, and I told Grace that we probably caught something…which now I’m sure it wasn’t that-”

Matty wanted to skip the extra details, so he interrupted her rant,“Y/n!”

“Be patient!” Y/n took his hand on hers. “So, Grace suggested something I really didn’t think about…”

“What?”

“When I had my last period.”

“Okay?” Matty continued to look at her puzzled. 

“I couldn’t remember.”

The realization of her words hitting him, “Y/n-”

“That’s not everything. She brought pre-... tests for me to do.” 

“Baby-” Y/n ignored him

She continued, “One negative-” 

“Shit.”

“One positive.”

“And the other?” Matty touched her chin gently, forcing Y/n to look directly into his eyes.

“Doubtful.”

“That’s why you came here.” Matty concluded.

“Exactly.”

He waited for her so say more, so when she didn’t, he added, “And?”

“Please, don’t be mad at me. It’s fine if you don’t-”

“Y/n, are you pregnant?” Matty breathed out.

“I can’t drink that” she pointed towards his coffee. “For 9 months…or more. Do the maths, Matty.” she gifted him a smile.

“Never been the smartest. Please, say it.” Matty mumbled.

“We’re going to have another baby, Matty.” Y/n felt the tears on the corner of her eyes. Matty started crying silently. 

“Oh my god!” Matty directly placed a hand on her belly. “How long?” she dried his tears falling through his cheeks. 

“Doctor says I’m almost at 11 weeks…which is almost 3 months in.” Y/n shared with him. The news better sweet with the place and the situation they were surrounded by.

“Mel is going to be a big sister.” Matty stated, not tearing his sight and his hand from Y/n’s belly. 

“Mhm.” Y/n couldn’t help to keep crying.

“I need to hold her for a week after this.”

“She’s going to love that.” 

Y/n was interrupted by the doctor calling after them, “Healy?”

“Yes!” Y/n and Matty stood from their seats, rushing to meet her. 

The doctor instructed, “Follow me”

They indeed followed her though halls and stairs, finally stopping at a hospital room. The light inside was dimmed, Y/n and Matty gasped when they saw Amelia sleeping on the bed. 

“She’s under the effect of the anaesthesia.” The doctor informed Amelia’s parents. “Probably going to wake up soon. Amelia’s going to be scared of the effect, probably, so be patient. When she does wake up, touch the red button and the nurse is going to check on her.” she finished.

“Is she alright now?” Matty asked her.

“Yes, she’s out of risk…if you waited a few hours-” She stopped talking, they fully understand.

“Oh my god!” Y/n touched her chest, where her heart was.

“You did right.” she reassured them.

“Thank you, doc.” Matty held his hand towards her, she politely took it, shaking it shortly. 

“I’ll see you guys tomorrow morning.”

“Good night” 

She got lost between the halls connecting all the rooms. Matty and Y/n went directly to stand beside Amelia.

—------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Three days later

Amelia was recovering as expected. She was tired of being away from her house, even though Y/n and Matty tried to ease it for her. They brought her favourite toys from home and even all her favourite people –the guys, Tim, and Susanne– called her. Grace and Denise dropped by right away when they found out Amelia was in the hospital. 

They knew it was the last hour for them in that room. Amelia was ready to be back home, as well as her parents. 

Grace came in meanwhile Matty was putting on display a play for Amelia. He wanted to distract her and made her laugh to make the hour to pass quicker than it felt. Y/n was in the bathroom since she reportedly to have to pee even more than before. 

“Hello!” Amelia’s godmother shouted from the door holding balloons in her hand.

“Ace!” Amelia changed her focus of attention from her father to Grace.

Matty wasn’t happy about it, “Crushing my play…thank you, Grace!”

“Shush.” she dismissed him, going to Amelia. “This is for you, mel-mel!” Grace let her hold the threats holding the balloons. Amelia laughed watching them bounce on the air.

“How are you?” Grace checked on the little girl.

“She’s better.” Matty answered for her.

Grace turns to look at him. “Was talking with my god-daughter.” she rolled her eyes at him.

Matty went to say something; but Y/n interrupted, returning to the room. “You guys are never going to drop it?”

“Never.” they say in unison. 

Y/n shook her head. Matty walked closer to his girlfriend. Amelia’s mother felt his arms sneak around her, touching her belly. It was a habit he had when she was pregnant with Amelia. Matty was bringing it back now. 

Matty kissed the side of her face, when Grace interrupted their moment.

“Oh my god!” Y/n stared at her friend, knowing. 

Y/n moved away from Matty. “What?” she asked, faking being oblivious about her surprise. She knew Grace knew.

“You are?” 

“What?” Matty interfered. 

“She knows.” Y/n silently said it was okay to share the news with Grace.  

Grace started crying. “Oh my god!” she went to engulf Y/n in a hug, pushing Matty away from them, “Go away you”

“Hey!” he protested. “I’m the father!”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever.” Grace brushed him off, making Y/n laugh.

Matty returned to Amelia’s side, half whispering, half shouting, “Your godmother is crazy.” 

“And I was starting to like you…” Grace warned him. 

“Really?”

“Don’t steal the moment!” she shouted from Y/n’s shoulder. “I can’t believe you’re going to have another baby!”

“Who’s having another baby?” Denise showed up at the hospital door. Grace and Y/n break the hug, smiling at Matty’s mother. 

“Grace and his big mouth!” Matty groaned. “Hi, mom.”

“Nana!” Amelia clapped for her.

“Hi, sweets! How’s my favourite grandchild?”

“Well, she’s not going to be the only one now…” Grace muttered.

“Grace!” Y/n and Matty yelled at the same time from opposite sides of the room. 

“What?” Grace made her shoulders move up and down, innocent. “If I know, you have to tell your mom, Matthew!”

“Tell me what?” Denise said.

Matty and Y/n shared a look. Y/n bowed her head, instructing Matty to just tell his mother. “Y/n is pregnant”

“Are you the father?” Grace and Y/n burst into a fit of laughter at Denise’s antics. 

“Denise!” Matty scolded her. “Of course I’m the father!”

“Are you sure?” his mother teased him.

“Learn from your mom how to be cool, Matty!” Grace suggested him. 

Matty ignored his comment, replying to his mother, “I am sure.” 

“Really?”

Y/n approached him, resting her hand on his back,  “Don’t say it too loud, Denise. Or some tabloid is going to pick it up.” she tried to redirect the conversation.

“Jokes aside, I’m so happy for you!” Denise admitted, drying tears from her eyes. “You’re going to be a big sister, Ames!” Amelia’s grandmother shouted, making her titled her head without understanding what she was saying

“We haven’t had the chat…” Matty said.

“Oh, okay!”

Before they can continue, the doctor came in. 

“Okay, time to leave, Amelia Healy!” she smiled warmly to Amelia.” I’ll ask the family to wait outside, except the parents.” 

Grace and Denise left right after, respecting the protocol.  

“Please, sign this while I check her one more time.” she gave Y/n a paper to put her sign in, allowing Amelia to leave the hospital.

When all the check-ups are done, the doctor informed the little girl, “Now it’s official, Amelia. You can go home with mommy and daddy!” The little girl clapping, making the rest of the presents laugh.

*******************************************************

Time to return home…

Matty placed Amelia gently on the special car chair for her, making sure not to mess with the bandage on her belly. 

Y/n watched her boyfriend —father of her children, and love of her life—, jog around the car coming to the driver's seat.

When Matty drove out of the car park, Y/n turned the radio on. A very familiar chords reached their ears. ‘All I Need to Hear’ was on the radio. 

Y/n grinned big, feeling how Matty took her hand to left it on his tight. During the journey, Matty’s hand travelled from the stare wheel to Y/n’s belly. 

She admired the side of his face, turning after to make sure Amelia was alright. The little girl fell asleep with the car’s movement. Y/n returned to look at the love of her life, feeling like the future was with them together in it. The four of them and all the people that witness Y/n and Matty’s love story. 

[bookofmirth]

Did you like cc3 or love? Neither?

oh hello, why don't you pull up a chair because I have finished this book and I have Thoughts. I was thinking for a good chunk of this book that I would give it 2 stars. I still might. It depends on how it sits with me over the next couple of weeks. I ended up giving it 3 because I did enjoy some parts.

I will start with the more positive thoughts.

I am glad that the crossover was limited. One of my fears was that the series be unavoidably intertwined from here on out, so that pleases me.

I really did like seeing how Nesta has grown, her friendship with Azriel, and seeing more interesting things with his powers! That was really neat.

I did laugh out loud a couple of times, at points where I was supposed to laugh out loud. I think Tharion is dumb as hell but he made me chuckle.

The scene with Ithan and Sabine towards the end was good, I was like Gordon Ramsay, finally, some delicious fucking consequences.

Ummm... I like Ruhn and Lidia still. They had some silly moments, but overall they are the only characters in this book that I still have a shred of respect for. Maybe Perry and Sathia. Everyone else is on thin fucking ice.

Shout out to the one (1) line Bryce said that I liked: “I’m sick and tired of people using 'girl' as an insult.”

Unfortunately, the list of things I didn't like is far longer. I'm actually going to put it under the cut if people don't want their enjoyment spoiled or simply don't care.

In my opinion, sjm is a good storyteller, and an okay writer. This book really, really highlighted that for me. The plotting was a mess, I was constantly going back a page because I was confused about what was going on, there were weird inconsistencies that only made sense if you stepped back from the book and thought "well, the author needed that to happen, I guess."

There were some typos and word choice errors that should have been caught - "every muscle in Bryce's body went taught" and then a missing quotation mark (But it was Aidas who answered, pride flaring on his face. Apollion slew her with his Helfire when she attacked him—he pulled her burning heart from her chest and ate it.”). Not to mention the 255 "could have sworns" and 50-something "as if". I noticed a few similar phrases to this. If I'm feeling spicy one day maybe I will go back and find them.

The number of times she says "by whatever power" or "somehow" in a book where she has spent a lot of time explaining the power, and we should know what the "somehow" is???

Who in the ever loving fuck thinks that splitting up two tense scenes by cutting them into bite sized pieces and then interspersing them together is a good idea???

There were multiple times when I laughed out loud at scenes that were not meant to be funny, because they just seemed so dumb. Like... Ithan "accidentally" beheading Sigrid. Excuse me?? lmao (I edited this one because in my annoyance I misrepresented that a bit)

The tone was so, so off. That was a big source of my inappropriate laughing. Like, Hunt thanking Urd that he had such a loyal, fierce badass mate. Or a chapter starting with Ruhn saying "nah". I think this is because the genre could not decided what it wanted to be. SJM was still writing like this was high fantasy, but then used the word "like" in the way that I use the word "like". I do get that this is urban fantasy and she tried to smush it with a high fantasy (a high fantasy with very little world building, but still), but I really do not think that this genre serves sjm's style of storytelling. At all.

Dear powers that be in whatever heaven that exists, please stop letting sjm describe every single character as the most strongest beautiful fiercest loyal badass tough unflenching etc etc etc. I fucking beg. One of the big reasons that I dislike pretty much every character in this series is that they ALL HAVE THE SAME PERSONALITY.

Bryce is annoying as hell. I could write a whole essay on her but she is easily my least favorite sjm character EVER.

I am bitter at feeling like I needed to read this book when, after hosab, I would have given up on this series if not for the crossover.

The crossover really did feel like a "teehee I can do this because I want to" with very, very little thought as to how it would actually make sense. A crossover like this should NOT be done by someone who doesn't outline, and who pantses their writing. Pantsing is fine in itself! Pantsers should be barred from writing this kind of book.

Hunt's dick is too big for his underwear.

[memeapple2]

Tails gets trolled rp starters part 1

yeah 😔 yes I'm leaving in the typos beacuse it's funnier that way :^) Fight me nerds!!

"Fuck you trolls!"

"They can't troll you if their dead!"

"I'm so mad, I'm gonna have sex with my girlfriend so I won't be so mad."

"Dumbass will learn."

"Mad? U Mad? U look mad U stupid bitch!"

"sorry *insert name* if this looks gay to the viewers."

"the art of trolling was actually started from humans but it wasn't called trolling it was called being a dick but back in the middle ages i was being made fun of because i wasn't human."

"im extremely hurt you would think im a douche. it might not look like it but i have feelings and you hurt them."

"hey can you put that on a coaster?"

"They have been getting trolled. you know how it is. there calling *insert name* gay and shit they cant take it."

"the way to stop a troll. is to become his friend .as his friend you can show him the right path!"

*-goes back to knitting-*

"come i will talk to these kids and stop this hate with kindness!"

"sometimes there is need to do whats needed, if it was up to me *insert name* would be dead and we would never have to worry"

"im not gay I have a girl friend and i would like it if this conflict to end in peace"

"you must not know who i am. i have alot of talent and i have lots of friends. one of my friends is right beside me . and for what your saying isn't true, so i am not afended by your hateful comments"

"ehhh...... im gonna ignore what you just said and ask you one more time. lets end this hate and become friends"

"why don't we just be friends this is stupid"

"ok im gonna take a random guess and say you guys failed with that peace crap"

"i fucking knew it"

"hello dickheads so your the trolls i heard about"

"hey do you see that? it looks like a group of pokemon.coming at us"

"for a em→→breaded donkey i can sure fuck your mom hard."

"there isn't. you remember what happen when you guys tried peace? you cant talk to them. there to oblivious"

"yea remind me next time to not kill such a fat person"

"high shovel!"

"ok i'm gonna go back to sleep now good night."

"banana"

"don't worry man I killed the fat one. its all cool man. i know all about the taste for blood"

"thank you for proving that peace isn't shit. when it comes to trolls. your a good friend"

" *insert name* Wake up! you fucked up big time!"

"People can't troll me beacuse I have no ears. They can't troll me if I can't hear them!"

"What? I don't have fucking ears!"

"If you don't mind I'd like to continue knitting this!"

"did you know with seat belts people die all the time in car crashes? I thought that was interesting!"

"have you ever been bitch slapped from lack of listening? Lack of doing what you're told? Beacuse I'm not that far from slapping you."

"which means I can be super powerful and kick everyone's ass..I'm gonna be awesomely badass!"

"trust me this plan will be better beacuse I'm gonna smoke my smart weed! I'm smarter when I'm high."

"Why are you filled with so much hatred and aggression? I'm finding it difficult to assume what you must have went through to mold you into the person standing in front of me now."

"Hey troll! FUCK YOU!!!"

"hmmmm this isn't as i thought it would be, killing people is really boring and all these annoying screams, i mean damn."

"Yeah that wasn't very good. I tried to do something similar to high shovel. Let's just forget about this."

"there is no need for any blood shed, this problem can be solved with out any villains"

"I do all kinds of stupid and gay shit."

"I’m starting to think that even if we pray our hearts out and know that we do wrong, that maybe there are things that god can’t fix and maybe, instead of putting our hope in god to fix all our problems we take action for our mistakes and learn from them."

"Sorry it took us so long to save you from TIME PRISON. So what did you do in TIME PRISON?"

"You gotta calm down bro, chill man, smoke a joint!"

"After 50 years I started to feel like I was losing my sanity so I started to break my fingers and I would just break my fingers and set them again. "

" I started breaking all my bones. I broke every bone in my hands. I broke my arms, separately, and then I started to break my own ribs. I broke my femurs, it took a while. And then I healed and broke them again."

"After 5000 years my bones were all scar tissue. They had all grown so solidly back together that I was unable to move. "

"And after another 5000 years of furious infinitesimal movement, I built up enough muscle mass to spontaneously break any bone in my body, and then I could move again. "

"My body had done so much healing that I healed almost instantly. That’s all I do now. Every time I move my body, my bones shatter and heal back in my next shape. If I take a single step, every bone in my legs splinters and then reforms. I don’t know what pain is because I have been alive for 10 million years."

"Okay but it looks like your walking normal."

"Well that's just stupid."

"oh sorry i forgot about this and took a nap and then took a shit. im so sorry i forgot but no worries man im here now"

"ahhhhh........................................................ yeah i dont know."

"hey your awful lonely. you must be a looser or something."

"this is the down side of having no ears, i can't hear if *insert name* is screaming for help or not, i mean i have no clue if hes screaming towards me back, so damn it having no ears kind of blows."

"hhahahahahahahahha i dont even know what the fuck you said?"

"i was trolled until i got bigger and stronger then them now i am feared"

".................... i have no importance to this story line what so ever, i think im gonna go."

"wow that story was super amazingly awesome, im not even joking right now"

"ahhhhhh so gay"

"we neutral's dont take sides in childish battles that normal people do. to pick sides is fullish."

"well most of the trolls are stupid but they all think there smart it's funny if you think about it."

"ummm. what object is like that? huh? ........ its unbreakable and its breakable? how is that possible? is it a liquid? hmmm i don't understand ?"

"now im gonna kick you right in your hairy ballsack"

"ok everyone! do you guys see this paper? well theres nothing on it yet but there will be"

"hey guys i was just telling him the plan. we are gonna do a all nighter and get fucked up hahaha its gonna be sweet."

"What? what are you talking about? We can discuss this further when there's not a gun in my face.."

"shut up, i got this alright, i got this shit in the bag, you'll see."

[enby-dragoon]

So, I was scrolling through the Transmisogyny tag and found this picture. I tried to let it go, but it's stuck in my head, so I'm gonna talk about why it's stupid.

First:

"Trans + woman = 2 oppression. Trans - men = 0 oppression. Trans women and trans men are opposites."

First, I'm going to assume that the -men part is a typo, because it doesn't really make sense (it's supposed to represent trans men after all). I don't really like to reduce oppression to numbers (since it's more complicated than that), but I'll stick with it for this post.

Trans + woman = 2 oppression makes sense, trans people are oppressed and women are oppressed, that's two oppression.

Now, where it goes wrong is with trans + men = 0 oppression. This assumes (or rather, the creator of this image assumes trans women assume) that being a man cancels out their oppression, that they aren't oppressed.

This obviously isn't true, trans men factually experience oppression by virtue of them being trans, that's one oppression, but they don't experience oppression by virtue of being men (and if you claim that misandry is real, fuck off, i don't have the patience to listen to your bad faith arguments). thus, it should be trans + men = 1 oppression.

We can take this a step further actually, and add another axis of oppression to this little equation. Let's say we're talking about a black trans woman.

That would be black + trans + woman = 3 oppressions.

This person is more oppressed than me as a white trans woman, and thus I hold privilege over her, just as a white trans man holds privilege over me.

(side note, this is why I don't like using numbers for this stuff, because it implies I am the same level of oppressed as a black trans man, and it's much more complicated than that.)

Second:

"Gender/Sex essentialism."

This is... Kinda stupid too. society treats women one way, trans women are women, thus society treats us the same way. Reversed for trans men, society treats them as men. (this is together with transphobia of course, which rather changes how trans people are viewed in larger society, but that's the gist of it.)

Now you might have already noticed two important modifiers here. "Society treats."

These are not traits inherent to gender or sex, but rather ones that emerge from a society which, by and large, does subscribe to gender/sex essentialism.

Tma (Transmisogyny affected) people are not as such because of some innate biological fact, but rather because of how society treats us.

Tme (Transmisogyny exempt) people are not privileged because of some innate biological fact either, but still from how society treats them.

It gets more complicated of course, but this is a rant post on tumblr, so I'm not gonna go into that.

Third:

"Applying ur lived experiences to everyone else."

Not really happening (that I've seen at least, might be a few but they're not common), we're discussing our own oppression and creating words to ease communication of those topics. We're comparing our lived experiences together and talking about the patterns we find, not applying them to anyone else.

Fourth:

"believing people when they talk about THEIR experiences."

I've never really seen this. Not unless we count debunking misogynist ideas like misandry, but that would be stupid. Debunking homophobic idea's isn't ignoring homophobes lived experiences, it's debunking lies and scaremongering.

I'm gonna turn this around and ask: Why do you never believe us when WE speak about our lived experiences? Why do you not believe us when we talk about the oppression we face? Food for thought.

Fifth:

"Actually trans women and trans men are more similar than different, plus nonbinary + intersex experiences experiences make binarist thinking really stupid."

I actually agree with this one to an extent, a trans man will have experiences I'll never have, and I'll have experiences someone who isn't a trans woman will never have, but we are still trans in the end, and that does give us a lot of similarity, despite our other differences.

'Binarist thinking' here exists more to support the straw man that trans women think in binaries, and probably that Tma/Tme is a new binary instead of just explaining a phenomenon that already exists.

Fifth:

"All trans people experience the worst of both binary genders bc we are seen simultaneously as both failed men and failed women."

No.

There are a fair few who see me as a failed man, that's true, but they don't see me as a failed woman. they see me as a freak, a disgusting tranny who should die.

They don't see trans men as failed men either, just failed women.

Society at large does not accept us for who we are, not even as failed, broken versions.

Sixth:

"Transandrophobia is real."

After having this entire discussion, can we really say this honestly?

I'll reiterate for those who missed it at point one.

Transandrophobia isn't real, because androphobia or misandry, or whatever you call it, isn't real.

Transmisogyny isn't just a word for transphobia that trans women experience, it's the intersection between transphobia and misogyny. There is no such intersection for transandrophobia, so it isn't real.

(Sorry if I got some words wrong, english isn't my first language and technical discussion like this trips me up sometimes.)