#I bawled so hard I woke up

[hipipi]

.

[crystallizsch]

what the fuck what the fuck what the fuck what the fuck what the fuck what the fuck what the fuck what the fuck what the fuck what the fuck what the fuck what the fuck what the fuck what the fuc

HELLO MISTER JAMIL VIPER SIR WHAT THE FUCK

A MOMENT OF YOUR TIME PLEASE

AND SHOWING OFF THAT WAIST WHY IS IT SOOOOOOO

ALSO HIS HAIRR???? OH MY GOD???????

I LOWKEY DON'T UNDERSTAND THAT SINGULAR BRAID IN FRONT OF HIS FACE???? I HAVE THE URGE TO PULL ON IT

BUT SIR THAT MAKEUP THAT LOOK ON HIS FACE??????????? AUILDKHGKLASDG LJFKLKSM IM GOING TO COMBUST

IM FUCKINFKLDSJFLKLSA

jamil what the fuck

[aflockofravens]

Critters, how we doing? 😭

[muniimyg]

𐙚₊˚⊹ bbydaddy!jk (18) ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹ *nsfw*

series m.list // taglist request: closed

note: some angst ?? but it's heartwarming... smut ofc because we are so back ! jk and oc finally kiss again (and can't stop) and so he fingers her. they sort of... talk things out??? def on the right path to their happily ever after <3

//

one thing jungkook and zion have in common (aside from being each other's splitting image) is that they’re both grumpy when sick.

last night, when zion slept over at jungkook’s, he was whiny and snappy. he cried a few times, sobbing for you (he's also been going through separation anxiety with you regardless. being sick just makes it feel extra awful). it worried jungkook since whenever zion was sick, you were always around. you were always the one to take care of him, and even if jungkook wanted to help, zion would throw a fit and refuse to let him near.

he can’t blame his son, though.

jungkook is the same.

when he’s sick, he only wants you. only you could nurse the sickness away. only you could make him feel better.

as the sun came up, zion woke up in a tired, slow mood. he wasn’t snappy or grumpy per se, but he was definitely out of it. jungkook checked his temperature (it was normal) and even added oranges to his snack box for the extra vitamin c. it’s a little chilly today; the sky looks like it has plans to cry soon, so he dresses zion in an extra layer. then, he lets you know what’s going on, drops zion off at daycare, and tells zion’s educators that he’s feeling a little under the weather.

jungkook repeats over and over again: "please call me if he’s really not feeling up for it today. he doesn’t have to be sick sick, okay? just call me if he even tells you guys he’s tired. i have a meeting, but i’ll come right when it’s over… that’ll be around 11 a.m."

at 11:28 a.m., zion’s daycare calls jungkook to say that zion spent the entire morning sleeping and then woke up to throw up.

at 11:31 a.m., he texts you.

by 11:45 a.m., he rushes into the daycare, grabbing zion’s backpack and holding him with his other arm.

… and holy shit, is it awful.

zion is kicking and screaming, bawling his eyes out because he doesn’t want jungkook. he’s uncomfortable and running really hot. jungkook is trying to sign zion out as his educators quickly update him on the details of zion’s morning.

jungkook can’t hear a thing.

he just keeps thinking to himself: fuck, i wish ___ were here.

hustling to leave, jungkook’s feet come to a halt at the door.

it’s pouring rain.

he hisses, feeling like he will lose his mind in the next five seconds. everything is so overstimulating and heavy. zion’s sobs grow louder with each passing moment he’s in jungkook’s arms. zion’s backpack isn’t even zipped up properly, so some of his things are falling out—and holy fuck, why is it raining so fucking much?

then, it gets worse.

jungkook’s car is parked four blocks away. he suddenly remembers this as he scans the area and feels even more helpless.

he takes a deep breath and accepts his fate. he accepts that zion will be crying in the car the whole ride long. he accepts that the backpack he’s carrying will be empty by the second block. he accepts that he and zion will be drenched in rain and probably get sick soon, too.

he accepts his fate.

“zion, daddy parked the car far away. i’m really sorry, buddy. can you take some deep breaths for me before we go? we’re going to get wet, and it’s hard for daddy to focus if you’re crying like this—”

zion hits jungkook’s shoulders and sobs even harder. “no! i don’t want to get wet! i don’t want you! i only want mommy—”

“she’s coming, zion. mommy will be at the house—”

“no!” zion cries, shaking his head profusely. “i want mommy now!”

jungkook can’t help but tear up. zion is burning up. his small hands clutch onto jungkook’s shirt, and his face is flushed with fever. he shifts slightly in jungkook’s arms, letting out a tired whimper. jungkook’s heart twists.

he stares at the rain pouring down, watching it hit the pavement in heavy sheets.

just 4 blocks.

he’d done it a hundred times before—walked this exact route, held zion in his arms when things got tough. but for the first time in his whole fatherhood, he doesn’t know how to be one. not that he’s a pro and has known what to do for the past three years—but he was usually better than this. he knows how to calm zion down. he knows how to hold his son and walk four blocks. he knows tough days… but for some reason, right now feels impossible.

it feels like he’s stuck.

it feels like shit.

he takes a deep breath, his mind racing as he prepares to step into the rain.

“we’ll be okay,” he murmurs, more to himself than to zion, who is now resting his head on jungkook’s shoulder. every muscle in jungkook’s body is tense, ready to sprint through the storm if that’s what it takes. “daddy’s fast. okay, zi? but i’m going to need your help for extra speed. can you take a deep breath and count with me? let’s go in three, two, one—”

just as jungkook is about to step into the rain, there you are.

“zion!” your voice calls out.

you appear out of nowhere, stepping into view with an umbrella in hand. your eyes lock with jungkook’s; they’re filled with concern but somehow steady, reassuring. it’s like you know exactly when to show up, like you always do.

no call, no texts—just… there.

thank god.

jungkook exhales, feeling the weight of everything lift just a little. maybe timing isn’t something you can plan or force, but somehow, it always feels right when it comes to you. truth be told, you have this way of arriving just when everything feels like it’s slipping out of control—like the universe is telling jungkook he’s destined to wait for you.

to live life with you.

to be with you.

to love you.

zion gasps, quickly wiping his own tears.

“mommy!” he exclaims, his voice thin but full of excitement. “mommy! come here, please! i want you! okay? daddy—it’s mommy! see? over there? yellow umbrella…”

jungkook follows zion’s gaze and watches as you cross the street.

“yeah,” jungkook sighs softly, brushing a hand through zion’s damp hair. “look at that… mommy came for you, zi.”

zion smiles tiredly, his face softening despite the fever’s flush. “cos she loves me.”

“she does,” jungkook chuckles, pressing a light kiss to zion’s forehead. “i love zion too.”

zion huffs, crossing his arms weakly before whining in that small way only toddlers could. “no. i only want mommy’s love—oh, oh, oh! my mommy—” he wriggles in jungkook’s arms, reaching out towards you.

jungkook feels the shift in zion’s body, the way his little arms reach out desperately for you. it’s as if you are the only thing that could make the world feel right again.

finally, beside them, you step forward, and jungkook loosens his hold. gently, he transfers zion into your waiting arms. zion nestles against you instantly, his tired body finding comfort in the way you hold him—the way only you could.

jungkook stands there for a moment, watching you two. a small pang of something—loss, maybe—passes through him. but it isn’t about that. it isn’t about pride or who could soothe zion better.

it’s about the way zion relaxes, finally at peace in your arms, and how the pouring rain is nothing compared to the sunshine you radiate.

then, jungkook sighs. his heart is heavy and warm at the same time. with his parents taking zion over the weekend, jungkook only really had him for one cranky night and this hectic morning.

now, it’s noon, and it’s crystal clear that he isn’t enough for zion.

today, he failed.

… and that’s okay.

as much as parenting is about getting things right, it’s also about getting things wrong. this? this is what parenting is too—knowing when to step back, to let someone else be the safe place. as much as it stings, it is also filled with relief.

zion is safe.

zion is loved.

… and in the end, that’s all that matters.

as zion settles into your arms, jungkook takes the umbrella from you. he steps into the rain, holding the umbrella for you two. patting zion’s back, you whisper reassuring things into his ears. he giggles and begins to babble about how much he missed you. he requests noodles and to sleep on the couch tonight. you tell him no, that his bed is better. he doesn’t fight you. instead, he asks if he can get a lollipop for his sore throat. you grant that request.

“nam joon just sent me here by uber… but i think it left already. where’s your car?” you ask jungkook.

“it’s 4 blocks away. should I go get it—”

“it’s fine,” you decide. “let’s walk there together. are you okay? you look kind of—”

“mr. and mrs. jeon?”

you both turn your heads to see zion’s teacher come out. she has two small containers in her hand and zion’s water bottle. she jogs over despite the rain.

“oh! thank goodness i caught you two. these are zion’s—” she hands the items to jungkook. he opens zion’s bag and puts the things inside. “... and i just wanted to remind you we have show and tell next week. i meant to mention it earlier when mr. jeon was signing zion out but forgot. anyways, get home safe and get well soon, zion!”

“thank you,” jungkook nods. “thanks for calling too.”

zion’s teacher smiles warmly. “no worries! zion is so precious to us. even when he has his days… i don’t think i’m supposed to say this, but—he’s our favorite. he’s always curious and funny. he’s kind and organized for a 3-year-old… probably gets that from you two, huh? he always talks about you two. he loves you guys so much and always draws family pictures of you at home.”

your heart melts.

“... and honestly? i’ve never seen you two pick zion up together, and my colleagues and i all talk about how much you two suit each other… seeing it in person—together? wow. you look like you were destined to be a family.”

jungkook’s heart melts.

you two laugh and thank her for her kind words. they don’t make you feel awkward… if anything, they make you smile. to be known and loved—to have people believe in you two… it’s different. it’s something else.

it’s something real.

as zion’s teacher bids her goodbye, you and jungkook share a look.

“let’s go?”

jungkook nods, follows your lead, and trails a few steps behind you.

he holds the umbrella high above you and zion, making sure the rain doesn’t touch either of you. you glance back, catching a glimpse of his shoulders already soaked after just a few steps in, his hair dripping with rain while yours and zion’s remain dry.

suddenly, you feel a rush of warmth and frustration all at once.

he does this every time—always putting himself last, always making sure you and zion are okay first. it’s one of the ways he loves; you know that. quietly, without asking for anything in return. but right now, as you feel the warmth of zion’s little body against yours, dry and protected under the umbrella, something twists inside you.

fuck.

you hate it so much.

“jungkook…” you start, your voice soft, but he shakes his head before you can say more, a small smile playing on his lips.

“i’m fine,” he says, like he always does, eyes darting briefly to zion nestled in your arms, then back to you. there’s something so gentle in that look, and it’s enough to silence you. because you know—he’s doing this because he wants to, because this is how he loves. he won’t let you carry the weight alone, not even for a second.

still, it frustrates you.

watching him like this, so selfless and soaked, makes you want to pull him under the umbrella, to wrap him up and shield him the way he does for you. but you know he wouldn’t let you. you sigh, biting back the urge to protest. instead, you adjust zion in your arms and glance back at him, hoping he knows.

and he does.

because when your eyes meet his, there’s a moment—unspoken, quiet—where you don’t have to say a word. in the way you look at him. he can feel it: the gratitude, the love, the quiet ache of wanting him to take care of himself, too... and maybe he feels it too because the smile he gives you is softer this time. a little more knowing.

you wish you could pull him closer, but in your own way, you love him back. you hold zion a little tighter, taking care of what he holds dear to his heart, just as he takes care of both of you.

as the rain pours harder, he stays a step behind, soaked but steady, and you walk together in the silence, knowing without words that love isn’t always about who gets wet and who stays dry.

sometimes, it’s about who’s willing to stand in the rain for you.

the car ride was quiet. 

you sat in the back, holding zion’s hand the entire time. zion fell asleep but would shift and murmur, “mommy, mommy…” 

jungkook drove carefully and often glanced back at you two. he isn’t sure why, but he kind of really loves this moment. it reminds him of the day you two were bringing zion home from the hospital. 

he loves the way you are with his son. 

he loves you so much. 

when you get home, zion is attached to you by the hip. he throws a tantrum when jungkook pulls him away from you so he and zion could go take a bath together while you get started on chicken noodle soup for lunch. jungkook struggles and feels bad for ripping zion away from you, but doesn’t take it to heart. 

zion is just like this when he’s sick. 

once their bath is finished, zion comes running to you from the washroom. jungkook follows along, drying his hair with a towel. you pick up zion and set him on his chair, prepared to feed him. 

from the corner of your eye, you see jungkook put his jacket on and search his pockets for his keys. 

“are you leaving?” you ask, feeding zion a spoonful. “i made you lunch too. please stay—”

“i’m gonna go buy some medicine for him,” jungkook says. “and those lollipops for sore throat? does he even have a sore throat?”

you laugh. “don’t think so. we got into a bad habit of giving him them every time he’s sick though… might as well go along with it. at least they make him feel better.”

jungkook chuckles, “whatever you want, honey—”

he clears his throat. 

“sorry.”

you shrug. “don’t be.”

he offers you half a smile and ruffles zion’s hair before heading to the door. as he puts on his shoes and opens the door, you call for him once more. 

“drive safe, okay?” 

“i will.”

“go to the pharmacy on 11th. it’s the closest and they sell the apple flavour cough syrup he likes.”

“i will.”

“the lollipops are usually hidden behind their stash of kids tylenol. so look behind the tylenol.”

“i will.”

“honey?”

“mhmm?”

“go and come back quickly.”

jungkook doesn’t turn back. instead, he smiles to himself and lets his heart flutter. biting his inner cheek, he attempts to act cool. 

“i will.”

the day goes by fast. 

jungkook came back with everything zion could possibly need. after giving zion his medicine, jungkook scrafed down the lunch you made him. it didn’t take long for zion to fall asleep. in fact, he fell asleep right away. 

as you place zion on his bed, you kiss his forehead and take his temperature again. his fever is still high but it should get better in a few hours. you’ll check on him again in a bit. shutting the door to his door, you take a deep breath and head to the living room where jungkook is on his laptop, finishing up a few things for work. 

“how’s his fever?” jungkook asks. 

“still high,” you reply, taking a seat next to him on the couch. peaking over, you notice the pharmacy bag jungkook left on the coffee table. you lean forward and take it. bringing it to the kitchen with intentions to throw it away, you notice another box left inside.

reaching your hand in, you take it out thinking it’s just another type of medicine jungkook got for zion. to your surprise, it’s a box of condoms. 

condoms. 

you and jungkook don’t fuck with condoms. 

quickly, the feeling of betrayal kicks in. how could he do this? what does this even mean? was he sleeping with someone else? or worse… does he not want more babies with you? that’s fucked up. it’s so fucking fucked up. seriously, what the actul fuck—

“sorry, i was submitting something. what did you say?” jungkook calls out. 

you snap out of your thoughts and put the box back inside the plastic bag. you set it on the kitchen island and go back to join him on the couch. sitting yourself down, you inch closer to him. 

“his fever is still high… but i’ll check again after an hour or two. the medicine probably just needs to settle in… i hate sick season. not only is everyone around us sick, but zion can be—”

“mean?”

“i was gonna say needy…”

jungkook laughs sarcastically and shuts his laptop. placing it to the side, he sighs. 

“he hated me today.”

“that can’t be true—”

“oh,” jungkook snickers. “he hated me. he only wanted you. i felt so helpless when i went to pick him up. i’m glad you came… i’m guessing they contacted you too?”

you nod. “yeah. i was about to start this new case when i got the call. told nam joon i had to leave and have someone else take my client—”

wide-eyed, jungkook shifts. “you lost a client today because i—”

“no,” you say sternly. “that’s not what i meant.”

jungkook pauses. 

then, it hits him. 

it’s been like this for a while, hasn’t it? constantly miscommunicating and assuming things between you two rather than spending the time and effort to figure things out. 

“... is it okay if i stay the night? i know we’re broken up or whatever but i’d really like to stay and help out as much as i can. i know he doesn’t want me around and you probably have this shit handled—”

“stay,” you tell him, reaching for his hand. you hold it tight and run your thumb across his knuckles. you press on the little letter ‘z’ on his hand. “... and i hate this. i need you to know that i hate this.”

“what do you—”

you don’t know what comes over you, but something does. it just does and you can’t help it. maybe it’s the box of condoms. maybe it’s the fact that this is the first time you’re alone with him in 2 weeks…

maybe it’s just time. 

“i don’t want to be broken up,” you confess, eyes glossy. “i fucked up. you fucked up. this? this is so fucking fucked up… i miss you, jungkook. i know i’m confusing and i’m a pile of broken parts—but all i know is that even though we’re not together; i don’t want to be broken up. i can’t—i don’t want it. i can’t live without you, jungkook. this is so hard. i don’t want it to be this fucking hard—”

“okay, okay—”

“and i hate that you walk in the rain for us,” you choke on your own words. “next time i’m not bringing an umbrella. we’re a family, honey. either we all walk under the umbrella or we walk in the rain together.”

“okay—”

“and why do you have a box of condoms?” you blurt out. “do you not want to have babies with me anymore? or are you sleeping with—”

“don’t even fucking finish that sentence.”

jungkook glares at you, eyes piercing and heart racing. 

you gulp.

“why do you have a box of condoms?” 

he shrugs. “yoongi called and asked me to pick him up a box. he’s going through his slut era.” 

your shoulders slump.

“i’m sorry i—i shouldn’t have looked and i shouldn’t have assumed—”

jungkook shakes his head. “no, no… it’s okay. this is good. i want you to talk about stuff like this with me. to say anything to me, really. i wait for your texts and calls all day… you have no idea how much i cried after we took zion to the kids cafe. how—for a moment—it felt like we were us again. god, ___… i want us again—mmhpfftt—”

on your bed, you and jungkook make out. 

he’s on top (sort of. you two are laying together) and he uses one hand to cup your jaw. his lips feel soft and slippery as you reach and deepen the kiss. 

jungkook slips his tongue in every now and then, exploring your mouth as if it’s his first time kissing you… and by how he does this; it truly does feel like that. he kisses you so good, it’s hard to pull away. you don’t need air. you need him and his fucking kisses. 

“missed you,” he murmurs against your lips. 

you smile and pucker up. 

he kisses you again. 

“love you.”

you giggle as he digs himself into the crook fo your neck. 

“yah, i’m gonna be bad if you don’t say you love me back.”

“bad?”

“bad.”

you laugh and shift.

he pops his head back out and gives you a playful glare. staying silent, he takes that as a sign. before you know it, you feel him tugging your pajama shorts and underwear down. you gasp as he brings his fingers to his mouth, sucks on them, and then slips them between your fold without uttering a warning. 

“w-wait—”

jungkook crashes his lips onto yours. he kisses you tender and soft, distracting you from the fact that he just shoved a finger inside you. 

you moan as you feel him curl inside. he pumps his fingers in and out, then uses his thumb to circle your clit. you pull away from him, and he smirks as he watches your facial expressions change. 

your eyebrows furrow, then they don’t. 

your mouth parts and tiny moans escape your puffy lips. 

the corner of your lips twitches every time jungkook hits the right spot. 

it’s all just so beautiful. he loves seeing how pretty you are when you take him. he can’t help but lean in and kiss you every so often. 

jungkook continues to finger you. your pussy is so wet, it’s a breeze finger fucking it. jungkook also can’t fucking look away. god, he loves watching you. he loves how you shut your eyes and murmur his name. he loves that you pout every time you want him to kiss you… which he does. he gives it to you. all the kisses in the world—he gives you his. 

 “what’s the matter?” jungkook teases you. “why you making that face?”

you gasp as jungkook fastens his speed. he rubs you like there’s no tomorrow. 

“h-holy sh-shit!” you cry, reaching to hold onto his wrist. "uh, uh, mhmm! f-fuck..."

he lets you. 

jungkook cups your jaw with his other hand and looks into your pretty eyes. your eyes sparkle with desperation—a plead if you will. 

make me cum. 

“cute,” jungkook hisses. “so fucking cute.” 

you mimic his hiss as he continues to finger you. your stomach twitches and your hips jolt. he lets out a light laugh when your body reacts like this. 

“d-don’t laugh. takes y-you like 5 seconds t-to cum when i suck your d-dick—”

as your lips meet again—this time—time stops. 

the world around you two fades into a soft blur.

the warmth radiating from jungkook ignites something deep within you. it’s a gentle exploration at first, a soft brush of lips that sends a thrill coursing through your veins. You can feel his breath against your skin, warm and inviting, urging you closer.

the kiss deepens, transforming from hesitant sweetness to a fervent dance of longing. he adds another finger, earning a moan from you. he snickers against your lips. regardless, there’s a softness to the way he holds you. there’s a tenderness that belies the heat building between you two. every gentle press of his mouth is like an unspoken promise, a connection that draws you in, making you forget the rest of the world.

making you forget about time. 

you responds eagerly, leaning into him, feeling the pulse of their shared rhythm. his lips are a perfect fit against yours. it’s intoxicating. the way he kisses you is a mix of passion and reverence, as if every moment spent in this embrace is sacred. 

the taste of him lingers—sweet and a little bit electric, leaving you craving more.

soon, his hand on your jaw slides down to the hem of your frilly top. you comply to his hints and slide your spaghetti straps off. he then tugs your top down to your stomach, revealing your breasts. eagerly, he brings palms them. then, he brings his hand back to your jaw, tilting your head to deepen the kiss further. you can feel his heartbeat matching yours, a silent conversation between their souls. 

in this moment, there’s no past, no future—only the here and now. 

“f-fuck—” you pull away, feeling the rushing burn and intensity of your climax. "honey—"

“what’s wrong, honey?” jungkook messes with you. “what’s the matter?”

“i’m gonna—nghhh!”

jungkook finishes you off. he fingers you fast and hard. you lose your breath, trying to soak in this orgasm. as you reach your high, you feel it. as much as you want to tell him to slow down and stop; you can’t. you can’t because you know what’s coming—

you squirt. 

“oh my god, oh my god, oh m-my—”

“fuck. yeah? that’s it, mama.” jungkook mumbles, taking his fingers out and gently rubbing in between your folds. your pussy tightens and you honestly see stars all around the room. 

jungkook catches this look and chuckles. he leans in, kissing you once more. you chase after his lips when he pulls away. catching your breath, your foreheads touch. both slightly dazed, you pucker your lips and kiss his cheeks and neck. then, you catch his gaze, a mix of mischief and sincerity in his eyes, and know they’ve crossed a threshold. 

it’s more than just a kiss; it’s a promise of what’s to come, something profound that lingers in the space between them.

“love you.”

“love you too.”

jungkook wakes up as he feels zion climbing into bed with you. sleepily, he places the back of his hand on zion’s forehead, but zion shifts away, groggy and fussy, swatting jungkook’s hand aside before snuggling closer to you.

you shift and reach over to feel zion’s forehead; he lets you.

“still has a fever,” you say, your voice dry and half-asleep. with your eyes still closed, you decide, “no daycare today.”

jungkook hums in agreement, feeling the warmth radiating from his son. he then moves closer to you two, putting his arm around zion. but zion huffs, grumbling in annoyance, and moves jungkook’s arm away, throwing his own over your body instead. you wrap your arms around zion, feeling his small frame relax against you.

jungkook sleepily opens his eyes and can’t help but feel left out.

“i hate you,” he groans, a playful pout forming on his lips. “why does he hate me so much when he’s sick?”

you let out a sleepy laugh, glancing at zion's scowling face. his little brow is furrowed, and he mutters, “daddy, stop. i don’t like you.”

the comment makes you chuckle. you hold zion tighter and kiss his cheeks, but he scrunches his face in irritation, clearly only wanting you to soothe him.

jungkook huffs, sitting up in disbelief. “you know he loves you—”

“i’m making breakfast,” jungkook mumbles, leaning over to kiss the top of your head. “want some coffee?”

you hum, your eyes still heavy with sleep. “i’d love some coffee,” you tell him. “... but i don’t have a coffee maker.”

jungkook nods, fully gaining consciousness now. “that’s fine. i’ll go out and buy some. i’ll be back.”

“okay,” you yawn, smiling at him. “sounds good, honey.”

as he gets up, zion whines softly, shifting closer to you, his little body still grumpy and unwilling to be touched by anyone but you. he buries his face in your side, and you can’t help but smile at the way he clings to you, seeking comfort while remaining stubbornly resistant to jungkook’s affection.

by the time you and zion wake up and wash up, jungkook has a whole breakfast spread ready on the kitchen island.

“wow!” you say with excitement. “zi, look! daddy made so much breakfast—”

“no.” zion turns his cheek. "no thank you daddy."

“no? no thank you daddy?” jungkook chimes in, approaching zion. he offers his arms and zion turns his cheek at his own father. 

“no daddy. only mommy.” 

jungkook hisses. “yah, zion… it’s a little much now. i’m beginning to take it personally.” 

you laugh and reach for him. placing your hand on jungkook’s cheek, you run your thumb against his lips. “hi, honey. good morning. thanks for breakfast.”

jungkook smiles and leans over to you, ignoring zion being trapped in the middle. he kisses you softly. 

“good morning, beautiful—”

“no!” zion pushes jungkook’s chest. “stop it. my mommy. no kissing my mommy.”

jungkook rolls his eyes. “zi, do you know you wouldn’t exist right now if i didn’t kiss mommy?”

“honey!”

jungkook laughs and playfully pokes zion. at first, zion doesn’t like it but he breaks character and cracks a smile. soon enough, he begins to laugh and reaches for jungkook. happily, jungkook takes his child and shows him all the food he prepared. 

you watch them and can’t help but just feel… good. relieved and happy. 

it’s been a long time since you felt this way. 

jungkook hands you your coffee. you thank him and sip it. it tastes good. it tastes familiar, it tastes comforting… it tastes like it’s exactly what you need. 

“oh,” jungkook reaches inside his pocket and takes a box out. “this is for you.”

tiffany and co. 

you look at him, eyes wide and throat dry. 

jungkook bounces zion a few times before swinging him around. he then puts him down and points to his toys on the living room floor. zion smiles and runs to his toys. while jungkook is bent down, he changes his position and settles on one knee. 

he looks up at you.

“when i said that your career got in the way of us—that’s not what i meant to say. what i meant to say is that i missed you. back then, it felt like every time you came home; you just came home. you weren’t coming home to me—”

“jungkook, please understand that—”

“no,” he sniffs. “part of me fears that if i understand, i’ll agree with you—that we’ve messed up too much to fix this, that this is where we end. but i refuse to accept that. so, here’s my conclusion: even when i don’t understand you, i’ll love you through it. i will see through it. as crazy as it sounds, i believe in you more than myself. you won’t let me down, okay? i want to understand, even if i keep failing. just let me try—for the rest of my life. i love you, ___. i want to come home. i want to come home to you.”

he then opens the box and reveals the ring. 

it’s beautiful. 

“___, will you marry me?”

yes.

you want to say yes.

instead, you say; “what about new york?”

jungkook swallows.

“the offer is mine for one more week,” he explains. “new york is mine if i want it… but you’re what i want.”

“jungkook…”

“please,” he begs. “i don’t want to choose.”

you take a breath. 

“are you asking—no—telling me to?” you ask, your heart racing.

he doesn’t answer, and silence stretches between you, thick with unspoken words. each second feels like a lifetime, the weight of his gaze pulling you in. you can feel your pulse quicken, a mix of excitement and fear swirling inside you.

“is it really one or the other?” you finally ask, breaking the tension.

“i don’t know,” he replies, his voice barely above a whisper.

what does it mean to choose?

to say yes to one dream over another? the prospect of new york glimmers like a distant star, bright and promising, yet here in this moment, everything else fades. it’s just the two of you, the air is thin (as my waist).

you want to say yes, to embrace all the hurt and finally take it all... but doubts creep in—what if you choose him and he regrets it? what if you both lose everything? the future looms ahead, uncertain and daunting, but there’s also a warmth in your chest, a flicker of hope that maybe, just maybe, love is enough because timing is on your side. that maybe, after all these years falling asleep next to him; you two dream the same dream.

“jungkook,” you finally breathe, feeling the weight of your decision. the world outside blurs as you focus on the man in front of you, the man who has laid his heart bare. can love really be enough to hold you both together?

his eyes search yours, filled with an intensity that sends shivers down your spine. in this moment, every hesitation fades. you know that whatever you choose will shape not just your future, but both of yours.

you take a deep breath, the anticipation heavy in the air, and feel the gravity of the moment.

as you look into his eyes, you see a reflection of your own uncertainty mingled with hope. there’s something electric between you, an unspoken understanding that transcends words. the way he holds your gaze makes your heart race, a silent promise hanging in the balance.

time seems to stretch like a taut string, each heartbeat echoing in the silence as you search for answers in each other’s eyes. the world around you fades away, leaving only the two of you in this suspended moment. in this stillness of you and jungkook, you two want the same things;

for time to be on your side.

for love to be enough.

for the choice to be right.

[rafedaddy01]

Sleeping with the boss

Summary: your the live in maid for the Cameron family and rafe is your boss. His wife refuses him any advances so he sneaks into your room and takes what he wants

Warnings: NON-CON❗️, dark rafe

A/N: thank you to anon for this dirty, yet beautiful, request 💕 I appreciate every single one of you that send me something in my inbox

Link to part 2

You were sleeping peacefully when the warm touch of a hand trailing up your exposed thighs woke you up.

“M-Mr. Cameron?” Your groggy eyes opened to the dark moonlit room to see your boss, half naked, crawling on your bed with his hands under the sheets.

“Shh, it’s okay. Just needed some company” Rafes voice was laced with dark tendencies and you knew exactly what he was implying.

“Sir, I d-don’t think this is a good idea” you tried to sit up and push him back but he was stronger, pressing onto your thighs and spreading your legs wider as he held you down.

“You work for me, do you not?” You slowly nodded your head, fear making your heart beat wildly as you knew there was no getting out of this. “Then you will do whatever I tell you to” Rafes voice boomed in your ears as his hands started to remove your sleeping shorts and panties.

“Rafe, please, I don’t want to. Please don’t make me” the tears in your eyes began to sting as he ignored you and gripped your wrists in his hands and held you down as his other hand maneuvered his boxers off his waist.

“Please” you begged and thrashed as much as you could as you felt his hard tip slide through your folds.

“God, so wet. You sure you don’t want this” Rafe mocked you as he continued rubbing your clit, your tears streaming down your face at this point and the sadistic asshole he was, he leaned in and licked he salty water off your cheeks.

“Keep crying, sweetheart, it turns me on” he whispered in your ear as he pushed inside you and the breath physically left your lungs.

He was so big, so long, and so thick.

You could practically feel the bulge in your tummy without even looking.

You had to remind yourself you didn’t want this. But that was all wiped from your mind when he swung his hips back and then thrusted with full force. His tip nudging a spot deep inside you that you or anybody else has never been able to reach.

A moan slipped passed your lips.

“I knew you wanted this, little slut” he gave you a particularly hard thrust as your head rolled to its side and you moaned louder.

“Please” you whined out.

“Are you begging me to stop or keep going” he rolled his hips faster, the small patch of hair tickling your clit and making a tingling sensation roll over your body.

“F-faster!” You spread your legs wider and rafe smirked.

“Good girl” Rafe groaned as he finally let go of your wrists and placed his hands flat against the bed as he used all his force to thrust into you, the bed moving beneath you and the headboard tapping the wall in rhythmic beats.

“Fuck, this pussy feels so good” he groaned above you and it was the sexiest thing you’ve ever heard, causing you to moan and whine louder.

Your nails found way to his back, clawing and scratching into his perfectly smooth skin.

You opened your eyes and saw his face directly above yours, his hair was a mess, sweat dripping off his forehead form the work he was putting in, his chain was dangling back and forth just like his hips.

“Such a pretty slut, letting her boss fuck her tight pussy. You want me to fill you up?” He brought his hand up to your throat, the wedding ring that decorated his finger wrapping around your neck and squeezing.

“Yes! Please!” You begged as he grinned, loving how pathetic you sounded. Just a moment ago you were bawling your eyes out begging him to stop and now you begging him to cum inside you.

“Tsk, I’m gonna need you to beg better than that, sweetheart” he gripped your neck tighter, hips moving furiously as his balls slapped against your ass.

“Beg” his eyes pierced into yours and you could see the darkness swimming in them, “p-please daddy, want your c-cum so bad, need it. Please, please, please, fuck me harder and make me drip with your cum” you struggled to get out from the lack of oxygen coming to your brain but he seemed satisfied enough as he let go of your neck and moved his hips faster.

He propped your leg up at such an angle that allowed him to get deeper, as soon as you felt him practically in your guts you couldn’t hold on longer.

Your pussy fluttered around him, your walls encasing him and molding to the form of his cock as he groaned above you.

Your nails were bloody at this point and his back raw from the indents you left behind.

Your eyes rolled back and your mouth went slack as you drooled and mumbled, and begged and whined, you moaned his name as you came with a scream and Rafes cock throbbed, exploding inside you as you felt the warmth and gooey cream fill you to the brim.

“T-thank you, thank you” you panted as he hovered over you, his face falling into your neck as he caught his breath.

He rolled off of you, laying next to you.

Both of you breathing was the only thing heard in the dark room.

“Holy fuck”

“That was amazing”

you both said at the same time.

Rafe leaned onto his elbow and propped himself up to look at you.

“Next time I want you begging me to fill you up while I fuck that tight ass of yours”

Taglist

@f4ll-for-you @rafeysworldim19 @baby19sthings @sevenwivesofrafecameron @rxfecameronsslut @findapenny @r1vrsefx @spencerreidsrealgf @rafescokenostril @thievin-stealing @rafemotherfuckingcameron @dilvcv @starkeysheart @wearemadeofstardust0 @theoraekenslover @mema10

[theplotdemandsit]

When Five finally makes it back home with his siblings, finally makes it back to the right timeline, he finds he’s still holding his breath. 

“Is it really over?” He thinks out loud. 

“I guess there’s only one way to find out,” comes Luther’s response. 

So they do. And everything seems…normal?

But as much as Five wants to sleep for ten days straight, he can’t help but feel on edge. He spends his time visiting each sibling, popping in for dinners or briefly making sure they haven’t felt anything out of the ordinary. One day Allison asks him if he actually wants there to be an approaching apocalypse. His eyes fall onto Claire who’s catching him up on High School Musical the Musical the Series.

“No,” he answers. “I really don’t.” 

They make time for family dinners every Sunday. They still bicker and maybe swing some fists every now and then, but everyone is fast to apologize and laugh again. With room to breathe again without high stakes, the hurt finally begins to heal. They had been family before, but it slowly begins to feel like a real family. 

And for the first time, they really get to know each other. For all the crap they gave Luther about the moon, they listen as he shares the misery and loneliness and betrayal he felt. Allison describes her time as a Black woman in the 60s without her voice. Literally. Viktor tells them about what it was like growing up powerless only to end the world twice. How he lost his memory and found the one he loved only to lose that too. 

Klaus manifests Ben (who is still a ghost but as alive as he could get) and together they tell of their adventures growing up and the cult Klaus accidentally created. In between laughs, they also learn about Klaus’s harrowing experiences with drugs and death.

And Five? He has over 40 years of stories, and at first he doesn’t want to share any of it. His time in the Apocalypse, his time in the Commission, murdering for the sole purpose of survival in order to get back to his family—it’s not a side to him he wants his family to know about. 

But at the same time for reasons he can’t explain, he does want them to know. For the first time, he wants to talk to his family, the family he worked tirelessly to save. 

Little by little, he does just that. Every now and then he will start a sentence with, “Back in the Apocalypse…,” during dinner or his visits with them. Silly ones at first, like the time he had the nasty Twinkie. The time he sang all the Beatles songs he could remember and pretended he was having a concert. The time he found Umbrella Academy action figures and reenacted missions with them. 

When it’s just him and another sibling, he starts sharing some of the hard stuff too.

He tells Allison how he starved during his first winter alone and hallucinated that she had helped him find food. When he woke up he found himself in a storage house full of canned goods and bawled his eyes out.

He tells Diego about the first time he killed someone. How the scariest thing was that he wasn’t shaking. 

He tells Viktor how he sometimes still wonders if he deserves everything he got for messing with time in the first place. How he’s afraid that one of these days he’ll wake up and be alone again.

He tells Klaus about the time he thought about giving up and ending it all. 

He tells Luther about Dolores. About how even though he knew he was crazy for talking to a mannequin, Dolores was the better part of him that salvaged his sanity.

He tells Ben (and Klaus, by default) that his biggest regret is not being there. That he tries not to think about how things might have been different if he’d stayed.

Slowly, slowly, bit by bit, the tension eases from his shoulders. He stops worrying so much about the world ending and how to keep everyone alive. Instead, he spends his time going to the park with Claire, helping Diego and Lila with the babies, having midnight food outings with Klaus, and listening to Viktor play his music.

At their weekly family dinner, Luther tells Five he has a present for him and pulls out a box of Twinkies, saying, “I know you want to try one.”

Five gives him a practiced glare and says, “I would rather swim in a pot of boiling oil.”

Before, his family might have stared at him like he grew two heads, but now they laugh and think his retort is hilarious. Luther opens the box and pulls out a bag of marshmallows instead, and Five can’t help but crack a smile. 

One day they ask him what his plans are—what’s next for the oldest sibling.

Five warms his hands on a hot mug of coffee. “I’m tired of thinking about the future,” he tells them. “Right now, I just want to spend time with my family.”

That earns him plenty of “aww”s and “You’re such a softie, Five.” He waves them away and tries to duck out of their hugs, but they get him in the end. And even if he could teleport, he doesn’t want to.

He hadn’t been looking for happy, but he found it anyway.

Now cross-posted on Ao3 under the same handle!

[cinellieroll]

☆ random obey me headcanons part 3!

beelzebub, belphegor and solomon ♡

part one (lucifer, mammon and simeon)

part two (asmodeus, levi and barbatos)

part four (satan and diavolo)

cw: slight spoilers again if you haven't played the recent lessons

small note: thank you again for the likes and reblogs. also, happy 20 followers! yippeee :^D also sorry for the delay i was being silly the whole day so..yeah

☆ beelzebub:

- doesn't listen to music that much which is kinda weird like wdym you don't vibe to hard ass beats everytime you work out? on the bright side a cupid playing a harp melody does start playing in his head when he sees food

- some days his resting bitch face goes so hard you think he'll start biting your neck off if you even try to talk to him

- he does a lot of unintentional things it's actually so hilarious. like no he didn't mean to mindlessly draw an icecream on your hand and start licking it. it was an accident! he swears!

- when you cry he tries to cheer you up with jokes but it always end up being horrible because deep down he's panicking inside on what to say. the bitch starts saying "why did the chicken cross the road" jokes while watching you bawl your eyes out with snot bubbling out your nose

- so instead of the horrible jokes he decides to hug you instead while picking you up and gently sways you left to right <3 and during those situations he's willing to do anything you want. you want him to carry you to your room? gotcha. you want him to buy you food from hell's kitchen? he promises he won't eat it. (he actually didn't but you could see his drool staining the paper bag once he gives it to you)

- there was one point in his life where he was the smallest and fattest out of all the brothers when he was still younger. his older bros, especially mammon would always pinch and bite his cheeks because of how he looked <3

- watches hells kitchen while eating food from hells kitchen. mans obsessed with the show

- has dimples and an eye smile

- he likes it when he holds your hand and look at it from time to time. he just likes to see how big it is compared to yours.

☆ belphegor:

- doesn't really use his phone a lot and resorts to watching TV instead so he doesn't have to use his hands

- slept while candy was in his mouth and woke up choking once. safe to say lucifer banned candies for a whole month after that and everyone else was NOT happy.

- since he is the youngest out of all the brothers he's pretty spoiled in a way. he wants to be the one you hang out with the most and if he needs to pull out the moves just so you'll give him cuddles he won't think twice

- "what do you mean you have plans with asmo today? didn't you know? he ditched cooking duty last night and lucifer told me to do the job instead. i deserve your attention more than he does."

- he thought you were attractive the first time you two met

- takes reaction pics. it's mostly him in a dimly lit room with his eyebrow raised or replicating a funny photo of his brothers

- wasn't interested in shows like hells kitchen until he saw you and beel watching it. he occasionally watches drag race too

- during car rides or road trips he always has to be the one in the back just so he could lay down and sleep

- you can't rely on him for notes because it's always covered in drool when he sleeps in class. although he mostly never takes notes at all he just relies on stock knowledge and good memory

☆ solomon:

- he never caught up with the recent trends in the human world so you really had no one to relate or talk to about your favorite shows, songs, etc

- decided to catch up for you anyway. what a sweetie pie ^_^

- a tear rolled down his cheek when raphael confessed that he liked his cooking for the first time.

- when he's drunk he starts singing love songs and starts going on a ramble about how lonely he is when he isn't with you. and yes, his voice WILL crack.

- sometimes he points things with his lips it's SOOOO HOTTTT

- he gets sad when you get suspicious of him when he's doing a nice gesture for you. he's aware that everyone else think he's shady, and he is! but mc, he just wants to do something nice for you!

- he's an asshole and will constantly tease you especially if you guys are seated together in class. he'll write a note on your notebook saying something like "remember when you *insert embarrassing moment here* or will start writing something subtly flirty like "wanna come over after school?"

- he buys you a lot of expensive things out of nowhere. like there was no ocassion whatsoever but he gifted you the recent iphone like what?

[seattlesellie]

knight!ellie x princess!reader drabble. ♡🗡️🕯️

an: since i’m thinking of writing a full fic of knight ellie x princess reader i wanted to know what you guys think ! let me know if i should turn this into something way longer. just a lil peak of the themes of a longer fic 💗

cw: mature themes, reader is a little lonely, tension.

the moon is so bright, so big, so white, luminous, it reflects in her emerald eyes and renders them almost mystical, bordering on the verge of the unreal. one couldn't help but wonder if she herself was not entirely real, a specter of dreams made flesh. do you recall those distant days of childhood? just eight years old, insisting that your imaginary friend — aurora, was right by your side? you clung to her like a lifeline. you'd shed tears as your mother, the reigning queen, denied the request for an extra place setting, an empty plate reserved for aurora alone. how you fell asleep bawling, tasting salt on your tongue, bitter and sickening, feeling as if you were drowning in your sleep, the specter of aurora growing gaunt and wretched, as though starved for existence.

how you woke up plagued by guilt, tormented by a high fever and a stubborn eye infection, crying and screaming for your imaginary best friend. and how from that day on, the castle fell empty. you wandered around, through those regal halls like a specter, floating like a brittle ghost, nodding politely when a maid curtsied in reverence, offering a feeble smile to the steward as he addressed you as his cherished princess.

you filled your duties, all your royal obligations, attended to your classes, spoke only when spoken to by your parents, ignored when another royal called you a “loony” when catching you in the midst of a conversation with several alabaster rabbits.

you formed a connection with the world around you, a bond that ran far deeper than what met the eye, and now one knew.

you rub on your eyelids with the back of your hand, and blink in dismay — oh, you’ve been mistaken, she is real, and her abdomen rises and falls with each breath, the clang of her armor a testament to her existence, to your sanity. her eyelids flutter, and her throat subtly moves as she swallows. a strand of her auburn hair sways in the wind too, but sweet aurora’s hair also danced in the breeze, so who knows.

sometimes it all is simply too blurry.

for now, you choose to believe.

the grass tickles your bare toes, you don’t laugh.

“hate being a princess” you mutter with a sigh, tilting your head to the side — her side, to see if perhaps she vanished like the rest of them, yet finding her there.

her role as a knight is dictated with silence in your presence, a mere executor of commands from your father with a duty to bow in submission, so she doesn’t respond. all she has to do is be your protector, keep you safe and guarded, make sure you won’t try and run once more.

she’s also not supposed to help you with your clandestine escapades from the castle, she’s not supposed to lay in the tall royal gardens ridiculously green grass with the princess, to allow the opulent and delicate fabric of her dress to gently brush against the barest portion of her knee. yet — she allows it.

she’s not supposed to help you pick flowers and greet you good morning, she was supposed to be unyielding as stone, almost ephemeral yet ever-present.

and now your ankle shifted to rest gently against hers, and she didn’t even nudge you.

“i despise it” you repeat. you try and voice your frustration but it comes off as too soft. ellie typically abhorred anything soft. she’d rather sleep on a hard mattress than a plush one, favored stomping over floating.

and yet you seem to be an exception.

you seem to be an exception for lots of things.

and ellie doesn’t respond. she blinks at the full moon and it blinks back at her.

“do you like being a knight?”

you think you may have heard a breathy chuckle. you’re unsure, you sigh.

“ellie?”

and she never told you her name. you figured it out by yourself.

then she begins, pink tongue folding and moistening her lower lip. “i like being your knight”, she blinks thrice, in a hurry — like she said something wrong, as though she feared she might have offended anyone else whose knight she was not. she takes a deep breath, for some reason it's shaky.

“i like, i- need, to protect the kingdom. it’s my duty. for the sake of your father, the people, you — you know that, my princess”

and usually you’d cringe when addressed with that title. you voiced it already — that title isn’t you, you don’t want it, it felt like a burdensome label imposed or cursed upon your birth, but for some reason, when she says it ; “my princess” it feels like her “my”, is the one that holds the power to cloud your mind. and that’s why you don’t argue that it isn’t your name, because she calls you as hers, and oh how bad you want to be hers.

you overheard the conversations among the other young royals, who spoke in hushed tones about "crushes." you eves dropped and furrowed your brows intently when they talked about the charming sable boy, a dark haired prince from a faraway land, an adviser. they described the feeling of having a crush as if they were “falling”, “giddy”, “thrilled”, “like riding a horse, really really fast”

and it never really happened to you, albeit you really did try. you just accepted it, you’d be crush-less forever, forced to marry a crush-less prince, forced to live a crush-less life.

then you met knight ellie.

it happened when she removed her bascinet, when she casually tossed her tousled auburn locks from side to side, when she smiled that sly smirk then immediately wiped it off and glued her gaze to the stone wall. it was in the way her eyes met yours, her all but graceful bow, and the sound of her armored knee meeting the ground, when she chuckled after winning the battle of who would be the princesses knight. how cocky she looked as her arm was raised in triumph, only to transform into humble grace when officially declared the winner.

but it wasn't a feeling akin to falling; it was more like crashing down. you also didn’t feel giddy, you felt nauseous and tight everywhere, you weren’t thrilled you were petrified, and you didn’t ride a horse really fast — it was more like being thrown off the horse and crashing onto the ground, nose-first.

so it didn’t feel like crushing, it felt like something else. and you really had to go to the washroom.

“you don’t… owe anything to the kingdom, or to my father” you murmur.

she really doesn’t. it got her family starved, killed. “i do” she lies, swallowing thickly. “also, i really don’t need protection” then you lie, rolling your eyes with a huff.

she'd call you a brat if she wasn't your knight, and if she knew for certain that you wouldn't go running to your father after being offended.

“i should run away” you muse, idly toying with the hem of your dress. ellie sees the bare flesh of your thigh and she feels like maybe she shall run away as well. then her breath hitches down her throat, and she really hates it because this isn't the first time. perhaps she's sick, a throat infection. it's getting very hard to breathe.

t'must be the armor, the decides.

then she decided it's not.

it's simply the cold night air. definitely not your naked thigh, or your hunger to be free, or the way your dress flows with the wind, or the way your eyelashes flutter and your fingertips tap tap tap on your plushy lips.

“should i fetch the horse then, my princess? which one d'ya want, charlie... or buster, maybe. he's a strong one” ellie croons then swallows a chuckle.

she’s also not supposed to joke with you. or to stare at your thigh, or to let you place your head on her armored chest.

“yes” you reply like she’s serious.

then a cloud veils the once-bright moon, and your knight clears her throat.

“i should take you to your room, freedom warrior, s’getting late”

“you shall take me to the forest to pick some blackberries, knight”

ellie chuckles and argues back. “i shall not”

“disobeying a royal?” you say with a wink.

you might actually be the death of her.

[ppnuggiex]

Howdy! I saw requests were open, but if not then please do ignore this one!

It's kinda crack? But mostly angst to comfort, essentially something goes wrong in reader's alchemy class and they get hit by an extremely strong spell that makes it seem as if they're dead, but really they're just in a super deep sleep. So once the spell wears off, they wake up right in the middle of their own funeral cuz everyone thought they were dead. Gender neutral pronouns for the reader with riddle, kalim, malleus and floyd as the love interests! In headcanon format as well pretty please!

　　　　　　TWST x gn reader

　　　　『　riddle ,, kalim ,, malleus ,, floyd ,, gender neutral reader    』

　　-> reader gets hit w/ heavy deep sleep spell n characters think theyre dead

　　— fluff ,, sfw ,, crack ,, a bit of angst

　　— this ended up being a little more on the humorous side 😭

- kalim

| • hes so distraught ,, hands on his head as he freaks out and shakes you violently . jamil finds out and facepalms . mr crewel told him nothing was wrong ,, to just give you time but kalim couldnt .

| • he swore you had died ,, and because of that he done held a big fancy funeral . he done invited all the dorms and everything .

| • you woke up when he was in the middle of talking about how you were such a nice and loving partner ,, how he wished you didnt have to die this soon .

| • get this man a tissue bc he starts bawling when you whip that coffin open .

- riddle

| • hes a bit more calmer than kalim in this situation ,, taking care of you whilst you sleep . but he always felt like something was off .

| • that was until one day he went to check up on you ,, your skin was oddly cold and he couldnt feel your breathe or see your chest move when you did breathe .

| • he may or may not have panicked at that point ,, checking your pulse and not feeling anything .

| • riddle thought the spell done killed you then ,, after all you didnt have any sort of resistance to magic so it was a possibility .

| • cue him tending your funeral and trying his best not to start crying in front of all those people .

| • you were his partner ,, his life and joy and now youre gone . or so he thought until you threw that coffin door open and smacked the person speaking right in the face .

| • and standing up in the coffin and falling face first out .

- malleus

| • bro acted the same as kalim . he did not stop to think about checking your pulse or anything . his immediate reaction was that you died . and all the sudden it started to rain very hard .

| • he starts acting like a child who lost his mom ,, panicking and shaking your body as much as he could .

| • then he pulls out some shakespeare typa shit ,, going on about how woe is me ,, my beloved hath died ,, taking from his grip as your soul was dragged away from him .

| • he has a small funeral for you ,, ready to speak for you when a miracle happens .

| • you awaken !! malleus is so shocked he gets a little teary eyed ,, running over and making sure youre okay before getting all baby girl .

| • in the end you walk out carrying him bridal style whilst sebek is fretting over his image .

- floyd

| • he thought this was one of those pranks people do to their pets . where you record yourself pretending to be dead to see what your cat does or something .

| • so he kinda ,, kicked you a few times and is all like ,, wake up shrimpy this isnt funny .

| • then jade has to break the news of the possibility you mightve been struck too harshly by the potion and maybe youre just ,, yknow ,, passed on .

| • floyd refuses to believe it ,, you couldnt have left him . you wouldnt do that to him . you wouldnt abandon him like that .

| • as much as he hates to admit it ,, he definitely cried a bit that night . he shows up for the funeral ,, still in disbelief youre dead .

| • but boooyy is he whipped when you ended up being asleep . he doesnt care who’s there ,, he runs over and rips you out that coffin so fast .

| • blames you for worrying and leaving him ,, and makes you promise not to do something like that again .

[gale-gaze]

[ People aren't needed because of what they do for you, they are needed because of the way they make you feel. ]

y'all wanna shoot me some random doodle suggestions? hell I will even doodle some Tavs, I just need to keep busy to fight off the post-sick sads 💜

[tetsunabouquet]

Loved the interpretation and writing of my last request! If you dont mind, here's a new one. Tw! Anorexia

Gom with a reader suffering from severe restricting eating to the point where they passed out in public or private, your choice. Again, sorry if this is triggering.

A/N: Thank you for the compliment! Trigger warnings for the readers up in the request

Akashi

-Don't expect this guy to be surprised. He has been suspecting it for a while. -When you faint in front of him, his heart sinks in that ultimate, 'Oh no,' moment. -Actually has a minor panic attack. -Flashbacks to his mom. -He'll do everything he can to wake you up. -Once you're awake, he'll have food arranged for you and he's guilt tripping you to eat it. -"Don't make me lose another person that I love."

Aomine

-Has actually told you before about how you should gain a little more weight as he notices the thinness but doesn't has the intellectual brain capacity to suspect something like an ED. -When you faint, it still doesn't registers in his mind but he does immediately recognize that you needed something to eat. -Momoi is the one to tell him she suspects your disordered eating, and Aomine's heart honestly breaks at the news. -He is demanding you to tell him which stupid idiot convinced you that you were fat, so that he can beat them up right now. -You are honestly touched to see him be so angry and upset on your behalf, he is so pure with his praise and love for you. -Demands that you eat with him at the Maji burger at least once a week and that you try to finish the meal he buys for you.

Murasakibara

-Like Aomine, he doesn't has any suspicions regarding the behavior itself but he does notices you don't eat enough. -Murasakibara just cradles you confused in his arms as Himuro tells him what to do next as well as mention his suspicions about your restrictve eating. -Murasakibara honestly stares at you like you're an alien creature as he has to process the idea that people can hate food that much, thank god you're unconscious and you can't see his face. -He makes up his mind to be the person to cure you of that hate. -Dumps pretty much all candy and snacks he has on him on you the moment you wake up all the whilst giving you a look as sweet and pure as the candy itself. -He increases little habbits like feeding you, because clearly you need it.

Midorima

-Has been taking calculated notes of how much you eat, but is afraid of coming off too strong so he refrains from daring to ask the question. -When you faint he has the most perfect response ever, and manages to stay calm even though he is breaking down on the inside with worry. -Confronts you sternly but lovingly once you wake up, he only wants the best for you. -Reads multiple books on how to be a supportive partner. -Honestly he's adorable with how hard he tries to be there for you. -After the event, he prepares you a bento in the theme of your lucky item of the day, always. Even on the days you can't bring yourself to eat it, he doesn't minds and just hoped carrying the lucky item themed lunch brought you courage in different ways.

Kise

-Knows. Immediately. -As a model, he has far too much model contacts not to know about that dark side of the industry so he knows all the signs. -Is the only one to have confronted you about it before it got to the fainting stage. -Honestly he bawls like a baby when you faint in front of him, because this was exactly like he feared. -He manages to get the number of a great treatment program from another model that is combatting her own ED after you woke up again and got him to calm down. -Tries to feed you all the time whilst acting as cutesy as possible, full idol mode. Because he hopes it will do the trick. -He tries to uplift you by talking about his own insecurities, as being under the limelight does also open him up to scrutiny way more then the average person.

[mykoreanlove]

Bokkie's quest for tears

Felix was munching on his cornflakes as he listened to his hyungs converse in the kitchen. Dorm life got a lot quieter (and messier) ever since Lee Know moved out months ago. Felix barely kept in touch with him anymore but luckily, he still had you - his best friend and coincidently life partner of stray kids’ famous ass hunter.

“So, how is he?”

Chan shrugged his shoulders.

“Ah, you know him. Erratic outbursts, even more than before.”

“And y/n?”, Hyunjin asked concerned.

Felix perked up at the mentioning of your name. An irritated look formed on Chan’s face.

“You know”, he stumbled to find the right words, “if I didn’t know that they broke up, I’d think she’s doing quite fine actually.”

Felix choked on his cornflakes.

“They did what?!”

Chan and Hyunjin ran over to him, helping with his coughs as best as they could.

“Didn’t you know?”

Felix shook his head no.

“I thought you were her best friend, Lix?”

So did Felix.

He got up and ran out of the kitchen, making his way to you.

“Pick up. Come on, pick up!!”, he desperately yelled at his phone. It took him three calls to finally get through to you.

“Jesus Lix, why are you blowing up my phone?”

“Where the hell are you?”

You had not anticipated his outburst, slightly taken aback by his tone.

“I’m at work. What’s wrong?”

Felix clasped his hands over his head, agitated for the both of you.

“I’m standing in front of your house where you should be, y/n. Why the hell are you at work? Why are you not at home bawling your eyes out because you broke up with Lee Know? Or did he break up with you? What the fuck is even happening?”

You took a long sigh before answering.

“So, you’ve heard, huh?”

“Yeah. Not from you, though.” He practically spat out those words, deeply hurt by your actions.

“I’m sorry, Lix. Are you okay?”

Felix rolled his eyes extra hard, even though you were not able to see it.

“Am I okay? Really? How are we talking about me right now, y/nnie? Are you okay? What happened? When did all of this happen?”

Felix paced frantically in front of your door, unable to stand still for even a second.

“I’m okay. It hurts but I’m okay. Lee Know and I weren’t the greatest match after all, let’s leave it at that. We talked a lot about it and concluded that it’s for the best to go our separate ways. So, we did…” You paused for a second, fearing his next reaction.

“5 weeks ago.”

“FOIVE WEEKS AGO?”

You held in your chuckle. Felix could never contain his Aussie when he was overly emotional and now was no exception.

“How? I didn’t see you cry once! You behaved as if nothing had changed. How the hell did you do that?”

You shrugged your shoulders.

“Don’t know. I didn’t act or anything if that’s what you’re asking. I didn’t cry at all, actually.”

“Y/N”, his voice was reprimanding.

“We talked about this. You need to express your emotions. Don’t suppress them.”

“I swear I’m not!”

“Bullshit”, he spat out.

“I know you and your toxic tendencies, doing everything but.”

There was a certain truth to his words. You cried a lot as a kid but sometime along the way, amid flourishing into a woman, you pushed your emotions aside. Buried them even.

“I’m coming over tomorrow. And you’ll better be at home, you hear me?”

*

The sound of your doorbell ringing relentlessly woke you up from sleep.

“What the..?”, you mumbled drowsily. As you opened the door you spotted your best friend beaming at you with extra love and a fresh batch of his infamous brownies.

“Good morning, sunshine!”

Felix passed by you and walked straight into your kitchen, making coffee and serving the baked goods.

“What are you doing here?”, you checked the time, “At 9am? On a Saturday?”

Felix sat you down on a chair and handed you a cup of coffee.

“I am here to help you cry. No wait, to make you cry!”, he cheered joyfully.

Before you could interrogate him more, he explained happily: “Welcome to Felix’ tour of FEEL IT TO HEAL IT!”

“Tour?”, you stuttered.

“Yes, tour. I have planned out the whole day for us. You, me and your waterworks will have a blast today, y/n. Get changed and join me in the kitchen for activity number one.”

He had to be joking, right? A full day dedicated to making you cry? His hand waved you goodbye, ushering you to wash your face and put on some pants. You complied and came back into the kitchen, freshly styled and ready to surrender to his crazy plan.

“What’s the first activity, Lix?”

Felix positioned a box of tissues on the table and sat down sternly.

“Talking.”

You looked at him confused.

“Talking? Fine. Lee Know and I broke up. We loved each other, very much so, but we argued even more. So, we called it quits.”

“Not good enough. More.”, he encouraged you.

“What do you want me to say? I deleted his number. I think about him a lot, though. Sleeping alone at night is hard. My plushie still smells like him and I can't bear myself to throw it away. But it’s probably for the best.”

Felix looked at you with the utmost compassion.

“How do you really feel, y/n?”

You always hated that question. How are you? Heat arose in your chest and tears started to well up behind your eyes – but that was about it. You couldn’t cry, no matter how hard you tried to.

“Hurt. But I’ll live.”

A deep sigh escaped your best friend’s lips. He rose to his feet quickly.

“Get up.”

You knew better than to argue, so you complied and followed him. Felix walked into your closet, garnering your workout clothes into a bag.

“Are we going to the gym?” He shook his head, grabbed your hand, and guided you out of your apartment.

**

“Yin yoga? Really?”

Felix spent the whole night researching, finding activities that could trigger emotional responses and apparently yoga was one of it.

“It’s a special kind of yoga, y/n. Give it a try.”

The suspicion hadn’t left you, though.

“Special how? Lix wait, how?”

It turned out that difficult poses held for a very long time made yin yoga so special. Special as in unnecessarily painful.

You were bent like a pretzel, suffering the results of never working out. Lee Know always had tried to convince you of working out with him, but the workouts in bed were more than sufficient for you. Holding these hip opening positions was stressful, hurtful even.

“Lix”, you whispered. He turned his head to face you.

“Am I supposed to cry from pain? Because I think it’s working.” You felt the presence of the yoga teacher next to you.

“Dear, that’s not what this is about. Your emotions get stored in your body, especially in your hips. Stretching them out gives you the opportunity to release them. Unless you fight against it.”

Her comment distracted you for a moment. Were you really fighting against it?

For the first time you observed the other people in class, a lot of them were silently sobbing. Irritation grew within you, making you wonder if you were too damaged to even feel anymore.

Felix frowned as he watched you, unhappy with the second planned failure. In that moment he decided to step up his game.

***

“Are you hungry?”

You nodded.

“Yeah, my whole body was burning for an hour. Please feed me, Lix.” You slung your arm around his waist and staggered on the crossroad.

“Wait, are we going to your place?” He nodded again.

“Why?”

He smiled at you peacefully.

“To cook.”

You loved food but hated cooking. All that time spent in the kitchen slaving away, only for the food to be devoured in minutes didn’t sit right with you.

“Felix”, you whined.

“Can’t we just get takeout?”

Your best friend laughed cheerily.

“Felix huh? I forgot how much you hated cooking. Come on, you’ll cut the vegetables and I handle the rest. Deal?”

He handed you the knife and dealt with the other ingredients. You took a look at the counter – carrots, pepper, mushrooms and an excessive number of onions. You smirked silently, adoring your best friend for it.

“You think you’re so smart”, you mumbled under your breath.

“What was that?”, he asked curiously.

“Nothing, Lix. I’ll start cutting.”

He was in disbelief after he watched you slice your third onion. Still not one single tear. Not one. Every time Felix came near you his eyes watered but yours were dry as the desert. At this point he was certain that the onion would cry before you.

“How is that possible”, he muttered under his breath.

You turned to face him, smiling sadly.

“Maybe there’s not a single tear left in me. Don’t worry about me, Lixie.”

The more time he spent with you, the more worried he got, though.

****

It was already 4pm and not one single tear was shed. Felix was beginning to feel hopeless, hoping that the last two activities would finally get to you.

“Why don’t we watch a movie?”

You nodded.

“Sure.”

If there was one movie that would trigger all the tears it had to be Titanic. Felix watched it multiple times growing up, bawling for hours. Something about lovers torn apart just damaged his soul.

The two of you were cuddled on his couch, sharing a heated blanket and snacks while watching the downfall of Jack and Rose. It was a sad movie, agreed, but not one that would make you shed some tears. Felix however was overly emotional, wiping away his tears, hoping that you wouldn’t notice.

“Just cry in peace, Lix.”

Caught in the act he looked at you ashamed.

“Sorry, I… How can you not cry over this, y/n? This is one of the most tragic love stories to exist. It’s so unfair how they didn’t get the chance to be together. How can you watch this and not feel a single thing?”

You shrugged your shoulders, not really understanding it yourself, either.

“I don’t know. Maybe it’s not… sad enough?”

You got up and went over on his small balcony which was overlooking the city. Luckily, Felix still had your old cigarettes, the pink ones with a small elephant on them. Smoking calmed your nerves, even though you tried quitting so often.

Funnily enough, that was the same way you felt about Lee Know. Pleasurable for the moment, but toxic in the long run.

“You’re smoking?”

Concern was written all over his face. You took another drag and flipped the cigarette of the balcony, approaching Felix in the most honest way.

“Do you think I’m broken?”

A big part wanted to say yes because that was what he actually feared. Another part, no matter how small, wanted to believe that there was still hope for you. As long as that little part existed, he would not give up on you.

“Let’s try one more thing. Shall we?”

*****

“Seoul Olympic hall? Who’s here?”

Felix handed you your ticket.

“The one and only, the one that makes you cry over any ex, whether you have one or not. The one with the very emotional voice, Adele.”

You were far from thrilled.

“Did you pay for these tickets to listen to heartbreak for two hours? For real, Lix?”

He pulled out a box of tissues out of his jacket.

“I came prepared. Let’s do this.”

You groaned as he ushered you into the venue. Adele was a great singer, a great performer but you weren’t into that kind of music. It was way too emotional, too sorrowful. You always wondered if her fans came to this to cry.

Apparently, they did. You saw lots of people wiping away their tears as she sang her famous ballads, crying over a long-lost love. It triggered some moments of Lee Know and you, the better ones in which you were actually happy and very much in love. Remembering those times felt like a punch to the stomach, but that was about it.

You watched Felix for a while who was conquering his own battles, embracing him in a hug and showing your support. After the show was done you walked around the area and sat down on a wooden bench in an empty park. Felix checked the time on his phone and sighed in disbelief.

"It's 1am. I guess this is it."

Your best friend looked down. He was bummed as he had failed his mission.

“I’m sorry, y/n.”

You turned around surprised.

“For what?”

“For failing you. I planned so many activities thinking that they would make you cry but nothing worked. The whole day was for nothing.”

His last words made you panic. You quickly grabbed your phone and checked your notifications – you missed a day. Finally, tears started rolling down your heated cheeks. Felix jumped to his feet in disbelief.

“What? What is it?”

You were sobbing, not being able to form a sentence, so he grabbed your phone and saw for himself.

“You’ve got to be kidding me.”

He looked at you, a mixture of disbelief and judgement.

“You are seriously crying because you missed a day on fucking Duolingo?!”

Tears were enriched with sobs, making this even more dramatic than it needed to be.

“My.. streak.. is gone!!”

Felix rolled his eyes at you, judging hard. Only then did he realize what had happened. You finally cried. The waterworks had finally opened, and you let it all out. He was still bitter that the green owl accomplished more than he did, but he hugged you, nevertheless.

“Let it all out, sunshine. It’s okay.”

You stained his jacket in seconds, a mixture of salty tears and make up covered his Vuitton. Felix placed a kiss on the top of your head and hugged you even tighter.

“I am proud of you, y/n. You hear me? I am proud of you.”

You looked up at him, looking like a disheveled racoon.

“I am just crying. Why are you so proud of me?”

He patted your head gently.

“Because you’re healing. And that’s more than enough for me to be proud of.”

[deathmetalunicorn1]

Hello,

Eri overhearing a scary story told by Zoro gets freaked out and booby traps (home alone style) her and the girls’ rooms and Sanji or one of the guys walks into the traps.

-It started off as an accident on your part, you had been put to bed about an hour ago, Robin reading you a bedtime story and tucking you in.

-When you woke up, you were thirsty but there was no water, so you got up, knowing the others were all up and you headed to the galley to get a glass of water.

-However, upon reaching the galley, which was open, to let the cool air in, you heard them all laughing, as they were drinking their icky bitter grown up drinks and telling stories.

-You were curious, wanting to know what kind of stories they were telling, so you remained quiet as you listened to Zoro telling a story about a ghost-like monster.

-By the time he finished, you were panicking, holding your hands to your mouth as you were terrified of the spooky ghost monster, and you ran back to your room- you had to protect yourself!!

-You were quick to booby trap your door, putting several strings across the door, so the monster would trip if he came in, and you put bells on them, so you would be alerted when he came. You prepared your pillow as well, ready to use it as a weapon to beat the monster once he was on the ground, and just in case you were holding your big story book in your hands, in case you needed a stronger weapon.

-You hid in the closet, keeping an ear out, hoping the monster wouldn’t come.

-Brook was the one selected to come and check on you, to make sure that you were okay, and when he opened his door, he instantly panicked, seeing your bed empty and he stepped inside and instantly fell over the strings, the bells ringing as he landed hard on the ground.

-The sound alerted the others, and you were quick to leap into action, jumping out of the closet, “You’re not going to eat me you mean old monster!!”

-When Robin and Nami made it to the room first, you were bawling loudly, hugging Brook’s head, after you beat him with your pillow before realizing it was him, crying that you killed Brook.

-Nami sighed softly, seeing the booby trap, thinking you had been playing, “You can’t kill Brook, Y/N- he’s already dead.”

-You sniffled loudly, looking down at Brook who chuckled softly, not at all bothered being ‘attacked’ by you, “She’s right Y/N.”

-Robin pulled you into her arms, asking what happened and you explained you got up to get some water but heard Zoro telling everyone about the ghost monster and you got scared, so you booby trapped the door, like how Usopp taught you for just in case, so the monster wouldn’t take you away.

-All eyes went to Zoro who held up his hands in a defensive way before they calmed down and Robin giggled softly, “That monster isn’t real Y/N- we sometimes tell scary stories for fun.”

-Question marks were floating around your head as you tilted it to the side, not understanding why they would do such a thing which caused some laughter to go around.

-You looked up at Zoro, “You pinkie promise the ghost monster doesn’t exist?” he gave you a warm grin, holding out his pinkie to you, “I promise- but the monster ghost on the other hand…”

-Zoro was quickly covered in lumps at his joke while you were crying in Robin’s arms, crying about the monster ghost this time as Nami, Sanji, and Ace were scolding Zoro for scaring you.

-Looks like you were going to be up for a little while longer.

[bossmarizze]

𝗦𝘆𝗺𝗽𝗵𝗼𝗻𝘆 𝗼𝗳 𝗧𝘄𝗼 𝗦𝗼𝘂𝗹𝘀: 𝗥𝗲𝘂𝗻𝗶𝘁𝗲𝗱

(Part 2 of 3)

Lan Wangji was still playing his guquin when he heard his bedroom door being opened. He looked up and saw a man dressed in black entering the room. The man automatically smiled at him while walking towards where he was sitting.

Lan Wangji smiled back and immediately stopped playing his instrument. It was Wei Wuxian; his Wei Ying who has returned after 16 years. The man he has been waiting to come back to him for so many years.

“I thought you’re already sleeping, Lan Zhan,” Wei Ying said while he sat in front of him, gently touching the strings of the guquin.

“How can I sleep without you by my side?” Lan Wangji replied, looking straight into Wei Wuxian’s eyes. Wei Wuxian stared back.

“You miss me, don’t you?” Wei Wuxian asked seriously.

“I miss Wei Ying so much. But you don’t feel the same way.”

“It’s not that I don’t, Lan Zhan. I was in limbo. I still don’t even know where I’ve been for 16 years. The last thing I remembered was falling from that cliff---”

“Please stop. Don’t ever remind me about that. Please,” Lan Zhan said with his eyes closed.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I won’t mention it again. But for what it’s worth when I saw you at Mo’s residence, that was when I realized I missed you too. I wanted to run towards you but I held myself.”

“Why, Wei Ying? You should have shown yourself to me.”

“I’m not sure if you would recognize me, Lan Zhan.”

“You know I will.”

“I’m also not sure if you wanted to see me again.”

“How could you even say that? I have waited all these years for you to come back to me, Wei Ying---”

“I know, I know. And I’m sorry. But I’m here now. I won’t go away again, I promise.”

“Mark your words.”

“I’m marking it, I swear.”

Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian stared at each other for too long, allowing the needed silence and tranquillity to envelope them. The stillness inside their room even made them think of their past episodes and old memories, both good and bad.

Without any hesitations, Wei Ying held Lan Wangji’s hand. “Thank you, Lan Zhan.”

Lan Wangji remained silent but his eyes were inquiring Wei Ying’s.

“For sticking with me even though you knew it will earn you the most severe punishment from your clan. Thank you for giving A-Yuan a second chance in life. And most importantly, thank you for not giving up on me. I am so grateful to you, Lan Zhan,” Wei Wuxian said while a tear dropped from his eye.

Lan Zhan smiled weakly while he gently wiped away the tear from Wei Wuxian’s cheek. “The only thing I regret the most is not being able to save you that night. I am deeply sorry, Wei Ying.”

“It was never your fault, Lan Zhan. Don’t say that, please.”

“But from now on, I will do anything and everything to protect you and A-yuan. I am marking my words.”

“I will do the same for you and A-yuan,” Wei Ying said while clasping Lan Wangji’s hand.

“And did you have a good talk with our son?”

“Oh yes, although he couldn’t contain his tears while we were talking. Goodness, he bawls like a baby!”

“Oh let’s give him that. He misses you too. Days after I saved him from the Burial Mounds, he was still looking for his dada Wuxian. But months after that, he got a fever and became delirious for weeks. When he finally woke up, he suddenly couldn’t remember anything.”

“That’s very unfortunate.”

“It broke my heart when he doesn’t remember his dada Wuxian anymore.”

“But he had his memory back and that’s what’s important. That guy was holding on to my leg while we were talking, I had a hard time walking out of his room.”

“Mmnn, that's our little A-yuan,” Lan Wangji nodded.

-----

It was past eleven in the evening when both Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian went to bed. They knew they broke another rule inside Cloud Recesses but they couldn’t care less.

“You’re becoming a bad example now, Lan Zhan. You keep breaking your rules ever since I came here at Cloud Recesses,” Wei Ying teased.

“I’ll forget about the rules for the meantime. Now that you’re here, I’ll take heed to what my heart desires,” Lan Wangji answered almost in a whisper.

“Lan Zhan, I’m not gonna let them give you another punishment. I’ll behave under this roof. I promise,” Wei Ying said, shivering from the thought of Lan Wangji being beaten because of him.

“Are you cold, Wei Ying? Come here, I’ll hold you close.”

“Hug me tight, Lan Zhan,” Wei Wuxian whispered while caressing Lan Wangji’s scars.

“Go to sleep, Wei Ying, and don’t worry about it anymore. Just think of those scars as proof of how much I love you and A-yuan,” Lan Wangji said while planting a kiss on Wei Ying’s forehead.

“We love you too, fuddy duddy…” Wei Wuxian replied as he tangled his fingers in Lan Wangji's hair.

(Artist: ©狐狸大王a)

[miss-multi45]

Sleep Token x GN/FEM!Reader

random Sleep Token thing. IDK I thought of this late last night and would've wrote it but my period had me bawling my eyes out. This it about the reader being on their period.

It was a usual rainy and misty day at the Manor, and all the windows were closed to keep the cold from interfering with the comforting warmth of the large estate.

All except one.

Yours was wide open, the rain pelting against the outside walls was pretty much the only thing distracting you from these godforsaken cramps. And it didn't help that the hot water bottle you had made yourself was on its last legs of being hot against your lower stomach.

Eventually, you gave in and decided to just nod off, you knew it would be hard but it was the only thing you actually wanted to do.

After around an hour of you in a deep state of sleep, the cold winds coming from your room caught the attention of the vessels.

"Why is it still so cold? Didn't you close all the doors and windows?" IV spoke, directing his question towards III.

"Yeah, I could've missed one, though." III replied, getting up out of his seat on the plush sofa.

"Oh, I know which one you missed." Vessel butted into the conversation. "Y/N's. They haven't come out of their room since yesterday afternoon."

That puzzled III, since when did you ever leave your windows open? "They wouldn't have done it themselves?"

"Well, maybe they're sick." II caught onto the discussion, but it was worrying why you hadn't left your room in nearly a day.

"I'll go close their window. If they haven't found it by now, they're probably asleep." Vessel sighed as he got up, trudging up the hardwood stairs as II trailed along behind him on the short journey to your room.

You didn't hear the door open, because of course you didn't. And you didn't hear the two vessels talking quietly so you wouldn't wake up.

"Yep. Window's open." Vessel confirmed, II shuddering at the deathly cold room.

"Are they okay? They're just a lump under the duvet." The shorter vessel tiptoed over to your covered up sleeping form, bending over and resting his head on your thigh.

He was about to excavate you from under the thick blanket when he felt something squishy from underneath the duvet. Pulling it out, he revealed a barely lukewarm hot water bottle with a black and blue knitted heat protection cover.

Vessel had already closed the cold window when he turned around and saw II holding a hot water bottle. "Is it still warm?"

II cradled it in his hands, lifting up the wool neck of the cover to determine the temperature of the water inside. "Not even room temperature anymore."

Vessel nodded, as if he knew why you hadn't left your room. "I'll go refill it." II however, was still confused as to why you hadn't left this room.

"Ok..but why haven't they come downstairs?" He left your room with Vessel in front of him, handing the taller creature the hot water bottle.

"Period. It takes a painful toll on the bodies of those who get them." Vessel answered, being the most knowledgeable on this subject after the three Vesselettes.

"Oh." II said, the word spoken in a sudden realisation tone.

When you woke up, the window was closed and your cramps were diabolical. Your hand shot down to your outside abdominal cavity and you felt no sign of your hot water bottle.

However, you did hear your door open behind you. And you definitely heard footsteps coming towards your bed.

You knew it was a vessel, you just didn't know which one it was. The mystery vessel lifted up the duvet just enough to slide a freshly heated hot water bottle against you lower stomach.

And when they pulled their hand out from under the blanket, you felt them gently rub your body from on top of the duvet. You let out a quiet hum of tiredness and gratitude, which made the vessel chuckle in return.

"You're doing brilliantly, love." Vessel whispered a few inches away from your ear, before walking towards the door and closing it behind him as he left you in your tired state, allowing you to sleep once again.

enjoy my fellow period havers.

[vampirepirates]

THE LONG WINTER — SANDOR CLEGANE .

Masterlist:

authors note + cast list.

parts: 1 2 3

CHAPTER TWO , A TOURNEY.

And who are you? The proud lord said,

That I must bow so — Low? Only a cat of a

different coat. That's all the truth I know.

– The Rains of Castamere.

The simplicity of Winterfell's consistent snowfall was something all too easy to overlook. To under-appreciate when it was all you were subjected to. It's when we spend our days longing for that which is out of our grasp, that we forget what we have already.

Every night since Lyarra's return to the comforting stone palace that she knew as home, she'd snuck out as the moon reached its peak. Every night, she made her way to the same spot. In truth, she wasn't sure exactly how long it had been. Weeks, she thought — maybe months. It was hard to tell. Her days were spent with either Benjen or Lyanna — as her two older brothers had too much responsibility to take on to spare a moment for their little sister. Brandon was coming into his own while Eddard was, more often than not, at the Eyrie. He'd been fostered there for what felt like years, rarely coming back to Winterfell unless it was for a matter of great import. 

She longed to return to the days where she could talk to Brandon about anything on her mind, where he would match her vigor with his own — and it felt as if they were the only two who felt things as passionately as they did. She missed Eddard's all too serious tone in her ear constantly, nitpicking at all that she did. Years passed like this. She'd spend her nights in the forest, and her days with her younger brother and Lyanna. Lyarra learned to value the moments that she had with her family, cherishing them as if there wouldn't be another.

When she had the chance, she'd roam the halls with Benjen. Talking about anything and everything they could think of. He had even taken to sparring with her in the courtyard, though it took what felt like years of convincing. He wouldn't go near Lyanna — though she was almost the most enthusiastic for the chance — as there were rumors spiraling that Father was intending on wedding her soon. The girls were closing on ten-and-three, now. They knew well enough what was to come, whether they wanted it or not. A year prior, Brandon had come to Lyarra's room, just before she meant to sneak out. Her nerves were on fire, her palms sweating at the thought of being caught. But that wasn't what her brother was here for at all. In truth, she could've been halfway out the window by the time he entered, and he wouldn't have cared. He sat her down, and in a somber tone unbecoming of his character, told her that their father — Lord Rickard Stark — was considering marrying her to Edmure Tully. 

Her initial reaction was to laugh. Her contempt for the boy was evident, even when she was staying with his family. They bickered, constantly. Not in the way that friends — or even siblings — do, no. The two despised one another. In truth, Lyarra wasn't certain what necessarily brought it on. Maybe it was his apparent distaste for her friend, or maybe it was just his attitude in and of itself. The very thought brought an uneasy feeling to her stomach, and that night she forgot all about her peace within the forest. That night, she begged Brandon — inconsolably bawling in his arms, soaking his tunic — to convince father otherwise. 

"Please, Brandon. Please, don't let him. I've never met such a horrible boy in my life, truly! It's not fair, it's just not fair." Her words were muffled by his thick fur pelt, as she felt two broad arms come to wrap around her. Brandon caressed the back of her head, petting her hair as she continued to fall apart in his arms. 

The two sat wrapped in one another for so long, that she hadn't even noticed her eyes growing heavy. She woke up to the sun in her vision — lighting up her puffy, tear-stained cheeks. When she sat up, she had her brother's cloak on. After that day, Edmure Tully was never mentioned to her again. Lyarra wasn't a fool. She was lucky, lucky that her father had started mulling over potential matches with the worst possible option. And more than anything, she was lucky that she had a brother caring enough to tell their father that he was a fool. 

Lyanna, however, was not so lucky. She was to be wed to Robert Baratheon. A boy that the twins knew well, due to how close he was with Ned. Lyarra had never felt any particular way about him, not entirely. His longing for her sister was known, and oftentimes if he was drunk enough he'd confuse the two. She pitied him, in a way. A stupid boy, who fell for a brash girl — who knew all too well she'd be doomed to an unhappy marriage. Robert, though he claimed to love her sister, would never pass down an offer from a woman. Would never look away, when someone would strip themselves bare. He would be an unfaithful husband, even if no one was willing to acknowledge it but her and Lyanna. Eddard didn't disagree, necessarily. He knew the boy better than anyone. But his love for him was as clear as her own love for Petyr. 

The night that the news was delivered, Lyarra clutched onto her sister's hand as tightly as she could. 'Lyanna was the most beautiful girl in all the seven kingdoms', Lyarra had thought. For all of her 'boyish' qualities, there had never lived a girl with more beauty. Both in spirit and in body. Compassion bled through Lyanna as if it was her own blood. When the two bid their farewells from the dining hall, Lyarra held her sister in her quarters as she all but sobbed in her arms. This time, she couldn't go to their father as Brandon had. She couldn't stand up for her, force him to make another decision. It was in that moment that she realized just how weak she was. How powerless she would be, from this day until the end of her days. 

At ten-and-four, the betrothal was official. Lyanna Stark would wed Robert Baratheon, at a time that they saw fit. The night that it became an official decree throughout the realm, Lyarra spent hours sitting on her stump. At first, she sat in silence. Not even staring up at the sky, as she usually would have. This time, she gazed curiously down at her hands. Her fingers, though littered with calluses and scrapes from holding a blade, held no power. She couldn't help anyone. She couldn't fix anything. 

Later, her eldest brother would scold her for missing the feast. Claiming that her sister needs her at her side now, more than ever. But it wasn't unnatural for her to miss celebrations. She rarely attended any sort of gathering, had she not been forced to do so. She'd seen her sister staring after her longingly, pleading with her to not go. But Lyarra wasn't strong enough to help her sister to begin with, so why should she try to be brave for her? 

These nights repeated themselves, a consistent routine. It was only when it was announced that the children would be attending Lord Walter Whent's tourney at Harrenhal, that she took a pause. She hadn't left the castle properly since Riverrun. It was a fool's wish, but she couldn't help the giddiness that crept up her, as her thoughts swept to Petyr. Benjen took that moment to list off who he knew would be attending. He was fascinated by the knights, after all, and Lyarra couldn't blame him. Had she not been born a woman, she'd spend her nights dreaming of a life as a knight. A sworn brother, giving his life to his king. A strong, brave hero. By the end of the list, she couldn't help the displeasing churn that twisted in her gut. She missed her friend, dearly. As everything began to spiral out of control in her life, her need to see him was stronger than ever. 

She'd sent ravens. Half a dozen, by now. They all contained various messages. Some describing what was going on, some detailing what she'd be doing right now if she could, and some asking him about what was going on in his life. Yet after years, she'd yet to receive a response. Perhaps he'd never gotten them. Perhaps something went wrong with each and every bird she'd sent. Or perhaps, he no longer wanted to hear from her at all. 

The journey to Harrenhal wasn't nearly as discomforting as it had been to Riverrun. This time, she walked ahead with the eldest members of her family. Her and Lyanna would have to ride different horses this time, and seeing as she couldn't stand another minute of discussing Robert Baratheon — Lyarra chose to ride alongside Eddard, who had hardly seemed surprised by her presence. He cast a longing look towards his two younger siblings, as Benjen and Lyanna had begun bickering about anything and everything. First, her horse was too close to his. Then, his horse stunk — and it was making her horse stink. Then, all horses stink. Lyarra and Eddard were nearly in hysterics by the end of the ride, after hearing their ridiculous arguments. 

Harrenhal almost made Lyarra miss the castle in Riverrun. Though it'd felt almost like a cell while inside, this castle was bordering on ruin. And by the looks of it, it always had been. The first event of the tourney itself came quickly. Her eyes caught on the shields, on the way that the clashing almost appeared to be a dance. She knew some of the knights by their sigil alone, while other times she needed Benjen to name them for her. Across the stands, Lyarra's eyes were caught curiously by what she saw before her. Across her stood a boy, who couldn't be more than a year — maybe two — her elder, with a scar stretching across his cheek. A boy who, to most, no doubt appeared monstrous. With a patch of hair missing, and puckered burns across his face, the sight would make any take a shallow breath. 

But Lyarra, forgetting herself, couldn't take her eyes off of the boy. For all the monstrous things about him, his eyes were captivatingly beautiful, enraptured in a way she had never seen. He was fascinated by what was going on, entirely absorbed. His own adoration matched her own, though she was sure she was not able to express her excitement exactly the way that he was. After a beat or two longer, the boy's head seemed to snap up in an instant — his eyes finding Lyarra in the crowd, as if he knew exactly where she'd be. She watches as his brow, or what is left of it, furrows at her stare. She did her best to pull her lips in a soft smile, so that he would know she wasn't staring out of ignorance or anything of the sort. But his piercing eyes flitted away just as quickly as they had appeared. He seemed to compose himself, his previous childlike grin dampened to ash. 

Lyarra couldn't help the guilt churning within her. She hadn't meant to upset the boy. She wanted to ask her brother if he knew who the boy was, but she decided to take the attention off of him for a moment. Instead, she focused her gaze on what was transpiring before her. Benjen had been talking throughout the competition, apparently, but she only tuned back in towards the end. She didn't need him to name the golden boy below her, who stood proud as he was bestowed the honor of Kingsguard. She'd never met the boy personally, but one knows a lion when one sees it. Jaime Lannister carried his ego with him on his shoulder wherever he went. Not that Lyarra could blame him. He was beautiful, even she could admit that. He almost resembled a knight that she would read about in her stories, who'd come to save the fair maiden in her time of need. 

Jaime Lannister, for all of his overwhelming self-confidence, had never seemed so small as he did in that moment. She took the time to scan over him with curious eyes. He was just a boy. His eyes only just barely gave away his facade, breaking away to show the display the true fear beneath them. He wanted to prove himself as badly as she did – as badly as anyone competing today did, she'd argue. When Lyarra came back from her train of thought, recognizing that her brother was speaking again, Jaime's eyes began to sweep over the crowd. It felt as if he were committing the moment to memory, and she couldn't help but sit up in the slightest to applaud properly. For only a moment, his eyes caught on her — flickering in vague recognition. A lion recognizes a wolf just as easily, it'd seem. By the time that Lyarra pulled her eyes away from Jaime, she glanced to the spot where she had seen the scarred boy from earlier. In his place left a small, almost unnoticeable gap in the crowd. Yet she couldn't help the faint pout on her lips as she tried to find him. 

"Enjoying the tourney, my lady?" The Lion called to the Wolf. The festivities had been wrapped up for the night, with the final event being a knighting of a large man that Lyarra couldn't quite recall. Clegane, she thought. A monstrous man. Twice the size of her father, double that of her brother.  There were whispers throughout the crowd, as he was bestowed the title of knight. However, she paid them no mind. Coming back to herself, Lyarra couldn't help the small smile on her lips as she turned to face the golden-haired boy. Jaime matched her smile with a coy grin of his own, his helmet buried in the crux of his armpit. 

"It's fascinating, Ser Jaime. Though a bit tedious at times, if you don't mind my saying-" at that, she was cut off by a sharp laugh from the boy. Of course, even his laugh was princely. Lyarra decided then and there that Jaime Lannister was perfect. He had no faults. How could he, after all? Every step he made left a golden footprint, his words pure honey pouring out of his lips. Unbecoming of herself, she couldn't help the blush that crept up her neck. "But fascinating regardless. Congratulations are in order, I'd assume?"

"I thank you, my lady. I'll remember it for the rest of my days, I'm sure. There's nothing quite like standing in front of a crowd and hearing them all chant your name. Not mocking you, but worshipping you, cheering for you.." He trailed off, his eyes unfocused in the distance. Lyarra's own smile turned the slightest hint of bittersweet, at that. She'd never get to feel that, not the way he had. She'll never be a knight, nor will she be worshipped. Even if she is married off, it won't be to someone important enough to have the people chant her name. Her own eyes gaze longingly into the shrubbery for a moment, before she is stolen out of her stupor by an arm being presented to her. 

"Would you accompany me to the feast, my lady? It's a terribly long walk, I'm afraid. I wouldn't want for you to get lost. Or me, for that matter!" Jaime's words were charmingly sweet, with a grin that stretched across his features wolfishly. Her arm linked with his before she could think through the action properly. 

"The newly appointed Kingsguard lost on his first day? Oh, no. We can't have that, can we?" The two shared a laugh, as if they'd developed their own language within minutes of speaking to one another. Lyarra had half the heart to be wary of the lion, of how charming he was. But as he continued to make her laugh — to say exactly what she was thinking, just before she said it, her trepidation melted away, leaving only something warm and all encompassing within her chest. The two made their way to the hall with minimal conversation, Jaime making a few comments throughout the trip — clearly just seeking to hear her laugh again. 

"Ah, yes. Here we are. Lord Whent's favorite bush. It's said he comes out here, at the cusp of night when he knows that no one is watching..." He trailed off then, widening his eyes expectantly. Lyarra felt a snort building up, and let out a quick cough to maintain her dignity. Her belly laughs quick became giggles, as the two continued throughout the night. "And uh, well. Looks at it? I'm not quite sure really. Can you really do much with a bush?" 

"Oh, you'd be surprised! Think bigger, Ser Jaime. Think bigger." 

"You know, you're not the first person to tell me that."

Once they had arrived to the feast itself, Lyarra moved to sit by her siblings. Jaime bid her farewell by kissing the tips of  her fingers, and she promised to find him again before they made their journey back home. She did her best to ignore the looks coming from his family, as well as the confused glances from her own. Instead, she sat down harshly — with far too much weight than she should have. Had Old Nan been there, she would've called it 'unladylike'. To all seven hells with that, she thought. She directed her attention to once again scanning the faces in the hall, looking for the boy from earlier. At Benjen's inquisitive look, she went to describe him to ask for his aid — but thought better of it. If he was already offended by just her staring, of course he would hate it if her whole pack of wolves gawked at him too. 

She was briefly distracted by this train of thought when her siblings began to argue. Apparently, Lyanna had been paying too much attention to Rhaegar Targaryen (not that anyone could blame her, for that matter) and Benjen took to mocking her like a child. Not only that, when the man had begun to sing — Lyanna couldn't hold back her tears. Their brother was laughing so hard that he was bordering on tears of her own. Lyarra sat back as well as she could on the bench, scanning the hall for the boy from earlier. Her eyes caught Jaime's from across the room, as he sent her a curious look. She brushed it off, turning her attention back to her rowdy siblings — who were now spilling wine on one another. 

Lyarra had half a heart to chastise them for their behavior, but Eddard had spoken up in that moment already. She took one more glance around the room before standing to take her younger brother's arm, guiding him out of the hall. 

"Does she have to act like such an idiot all the time?" He grumbled to himself once they were outside of the hall. Had Lyarra not been so close to him she likely wouldn't have heard it to begin with. 

"If I remember right, you started it, dear brother. Perhaps, don't mock a woman while she holds a glass of wine." Lyarra added with a shrug, moving to ruffle his hair half-heartedly. 

"Woman is a stretch. You're both children. Act like it too." His words were met with a sharp sigh. He was right, of course. They were only treated as women because of matters outside of their control. As if bleeding once should make you ready to bear a child, to take on the responsibilities of a lady.

"Like you're any better." With that, the conversation had ended. Benjen all but avoided her eyes as she guided him to his quarters. She'd intended on leaving the boy there to retreat to her own, before an arm shot out to grasp onto her. Lyarra jumped at the sudden movement, spinning back to face her brother. 

"D'you mind staying, just for a while? I don't like being away from home. It's better when you're around." His admission was quiet, eyes cast low. She took this moment to raise her palm to his cheek, moving him to face her. 

"Of course, Benjen. I'll stay as long as you'd like." And she did just that. The two only talked for a short while. He continued prattling on about Lyanna's fascination with Rhaegar, and Lyarra only scoffed and nodded along as she listened. She, in turn, told him of her time with Jaime Lannister. This was met with a bit of a scowl, but Benjen nodded nonetheless. The boy had fallen asleep soon after, but Lyarra did not leave his side until she saw the sun peaking over the castle. 

The remaining days of the tourney seemed to wane on. She, along with the rest of her family, had been forced to attend every competition. Every blade swung just reminded Lyarra further that she would never be able to hold such a position. She'd always be the lady stuck in the crowd, watching as the men have their fun. She hardly held a scowl as she observed, though several times she was chastised by her brothers. Some nights Jaime would meet her in that same garden, escorting her to the feast in the same way he had the nights prior. Other nights the two would only meet one another's eyes from across the room, and smile in their own secretive way before moving on. All things considered, Lyarra was merely content to find a friend. The boy seemed to have mutual respect for her, as she did him. 

On the fourth day of competition, Lyarra had decided she'd had enough of playing the silent observer. There had been two jousts already, and just before the men could begin the third — she'd heard a distant yell. It wasn't loud enough to catch the attention of the men in front of her, but it did catch the ears of her and her siblings. Benjen, at the very least. 

"Men for the Night's Watch! Any able bodied man looking to serve the realm, look for the Night's Watch! The shield that guards the realms of men!" A poor advertisement, really. But effective to one, it'd appear. Lyarra watched as Benjen sat forward, his eyes muddled in thought. The very thought of her brother in the Night's watch forced an unladylike cackle out of her lips. Her brother? The boy who had begged her to stay in her room, so that he did not have to sleep alone, only nights ago? Regardless, the boy was transfixed. He only looked away when a group of boys behind them began to call out to the man. 

They mocked him, belittling him for such a 'cowardly job', as they'd put it. The Night's Watch was embarrassing to them. A way to escape the duties of a 'proper man'. In Lyarra's eyes, she considered the men of the Watch brave. They were sacrificing their lives for the realm — for the better of everyone else's life. She stood up then to chastise them, before being yanked down by her older brother. Eddard shot her a sharp look, before quickly returning his focus to the tourney. Lyarra bore the man no mind, as she once again stood up, moving to empty the remainder of her cup of wine on them. They'd shot up instantly to retaliate, before remembering themselves — and quickly ran off. She could hardly hold back the prideful grin on her lips, as she turned back to her brother. 

While she considered the idea of Benjen in the Night's Watch laughable, she wouldn't allow others to dampen his dream. That was her job, after all. She moved to place her hand on his, then, interlocking their fingers. He seemed to breathe after her touch, sending her a short — almost imperceptible — nod in thanks. 

Lyanna did not pay much attention herself, until Rhaegar Targaryen was out. Lyarra couldn't help but admit that her sister did spend an odd amount of time watching the man. She thought he was fascinating herself, of course. The Targaryens were hard to not look away from. They were beautiful, almost standing as mythological beings. However Lyanna had yet to look away from the boy once. Robert had come to speak to her at one point, stomping across the stands — drunk already, no doubt. Lyarra had to step harshly on her sister's shoe to get the girl to notice, too transfixed by the mop of white hair in front of her. This seemed to delight Benjen, as his theory had been proven correct — to which Lyarra turned to stomp on his boot as well. 

On the night before the last day of the tourney, Lyarra held back in the gardens to wait for Jaime. While she waited, she observed the flowers surrounding her. Winter Roses grew proudly everywhere she looked. Lyanna would love this, she couldn't help but think. Perhaps she should bring her sister down tomorrow, before the tourney starts. Or perhaps her sister had already come, with Rhaegar at her side. The man had begun to take interest in her too, no doubt. Only a blind man couldn't see that. Lyarra knew this blooming interest between them would only end poorly. Lyanna was to be wed, and King Aerys hardly seemed like a man to strike a bargain for her sake. She knew as well that Rhaegar was married himself, to Elia Martell, though in truth she had never seen the two together. Another Stark could easily be wed to Robert, to establish the bond. Unfortunate, that she knew well enough in that moment that no man would ever relinquish their 'right to a woman', regardless of how she felt. 

At that moment, a snap of a branch caught Lyarra's attention. She whipped around with a smile, expecting to see Jaime Lannister's golden grin. Only, instead of Jaime, it was a much larger beast. There stood Gregor Clegane.  Ser Gregor, she supposed. He was easily triple her size. She'd seen him maybe twice now in the tourney, crushing every man he went against. He peered down at her, his eyes the furthest thing from human she had ever seen. As she moved to speak, he stepped forward, all but backing her against a column. For the first time in her life, Lyarra was truly speechless in terror. Men had made their intentions with her clear more than once, and she was accustomed to a brutish man with a wandering hand. But Gregor? He wasn't a man at all. He raised his palm to her cheek, and was only halted by a sharp voice calling from across the garden. 

"Brother! Your king is calling you. Says he needs you, now. Wouldn't want to keep him waiting. He seemed angry." The voice, unrecognizable to Lyarra, rang out. His words seemed to echo, as Gregor made no move to retreat. His eyes pierced into hers, and she couldn't help but tremble against the wall. With a grunt, he moved across the garden — staring daggers into whoever had spoken. It was then, as Lyarra sat forward to collect herself, that she was able to spot whom the voice had come from. It was the boy from the first day of the tourney. The boy with burns across his cheek, brown hair sweeping across his face. He looked so small, now that she could see him closer. His scar almost made him appear that much younger. She moved to thank the boy, before another voice rang out. 

"My lady! I apologize for such a dastardly wait. The king has been rather unhappy tonight, I'm afraid. It was a chore to rid myself of him." Jaime Lannister took the opportunity to appear then, making quick strides to her. It was only when he'd reached Lyarra, that he noticed her ragged state. He glanced down at her, before turning accusatively to the boy who still stood silent as ever in the center of the garden. Lyarra shot up, then, placing a calm hand to Jaime's shoulder. The boy took this chance to make his leave, never once breaking eye contact with her. Just before he'd left the garden, she'd stepped forward, leaving Jaime's grasp. 

"Ser?" She called, her voice ringing across the area. The boy stopped then, turning to her with a grimace. She could see then, that he truly wasn't much older than her. Not old enough that he couldn't be a knight, but he didn't carry himself like one at all. He was much larger than her. Smaller than Gregor, of course. But far larger than Jaime — or anyone else she'd met, for that matter. "Thank you."

"I'm no Ser," And with that, the boy had disappeared as quickly as he'd arrived. She almost deflated at that, leaning back on the soles of her feet. Jaime had taken her arm as quickly as he had the previous nights, only this time he lingered — glancing over her to make sure she had no lasting wounds. Her explanation came quick, leaving out names due to the man's connection with the King. Jaime promised her that he would find the man that attacked her, and Lyarra could hardly force a timid smile on her lips. 

Lyarra did not leave her sister's side after that. She rarely saw Jaime, and if she did it was only in passing. The two would send one another a weak smile, before carrying on their respective paths. She knew better than to mention what happened to anyone. Lyarra, in truth, didn't even know if Gregor would be punished, and did not want to suffer his wrath unknowingly. Lyanna spent her time ogling Rhaegar Targaryen, unsurprisingly. She hardly looked away, and if she did it was only for a brief moment. 

On the last day of the tourney, Lyarra could hardly force herself to pay attention. She knew that the purpose of the whole tournament was to name a 'queen of love and beauty'. A nameless title, used only to bring praise and further celebration to the victorious knight who would place the crown in a lady's lap. She spent her time scanning through the crowd, searching desperately for the boy that had her curiosity spiraling like a mad dog. He'd been almost frightened by her wandering eye originally, only to come to her aid when she needed it most. 'Brother', he'd called Ser Gregor. So he was a Clegane, then. Lyarra made a mental note to ask her brother of the Cleganes later, as she knew little to nothing of the name. 

She only refocused her attention on the tournament when she noticed white hair sweeping through the field. Rhaegar Targaryen stood victorious over the other men, thus presenting him with the crown — to bestow upon a lady whom he saw fit. Lyarra had brushed the very concept off, choosing to clasp onto her sister's hand — assuming that he would pick his wife. Lyanna was to be wed, and he had a wife of his own. Regardless of whether there was something budding between the two, they'd have no choice in the matter. It was only as Lyarra watched Rhaegar approach in horror, that she began to reconsider. In a flash, Rhaegar placed the crown of blue winter roses in Lyanna's lap. Just as quickly as he'd arrived, he was gone. Lyanna's cheeks were flushed, a red hue creeping up her neck. She never quite thought she'd seen her sister as full of life as she was in that moment. 

However, Lyarra was no fool. She knew the repercussions to this. The action itself was scandalous, and she watched in mute horror as Robert Baratheon turned his own shade of red in the face. Princess Elia was gone, disappeared in a flash before anyone else had noticed. She couldn't help the pang of pity that rang through her chest, at that. 

The trip back to Winterfell was a quiet one. Benjen and Lyanna rode far from one another, with Lyanna lingering in the back alongside her sister. Lyarra did not leave her sister's side, save to speak with Eddard. Throughout their short talks, Ned did not take his eyes off of Lyanna. He wasn't pleased with her, no doubt. Though, Lyarra maintained that it was no fault of her sister's. Rhaegar made his decision on his own, she took no part in it. He seemed to grow a bit more complacent at her words, muttering a vague comment of appreciation before hastening his horse ahead. 

Lyarra thought then of the golden lion she'd left behind. Jaime Lannister, for all his perfections, was a curious man. She'd only made one friend in her life, yet her bond with the Lannister boy blossomed almost just as quickly. They weren't nearly as close, however, and her heart did not long to return to him as it did to Petyr. Jaime Lannister was a kind, charming boy. Their goodbyes were short, away from prying eyes, in the garden that they'd properly met. He'd had to leave early as it was, with the intention of guarding the Queen Rhaella. Jaime had pulled her hand down to his lips, kissing her knuckles — as if she were a proper lady. Lyarra would miss the boy, she decided then. She only hoped that he'd serve his king well, and that they would later meet under better circumstances. 

The Clegane boy, however, she had yet to see again. She searched for him after the tourney, eyes wandering where they could, but her brothers hardly let her out of their sight after the incident with Lyanna. She would be forever grateful to him, even if she never would get the chance to properly speak with him. 

Lyarra rode silently at her sister's side, doing her best to observe her when she had the chance. She'd seemed somber, since the tourney. Originally, she was elated. Her spirits were only dampened when she'd seen the reaction of the onlookers surrounding her. Lyanna Stark was not one to let the opinions of the many disturb her. She was far from a typical lady. There were even rumors spiraling that she'd presented herself as a Knight at the tourney, though Lyarra was not by her sister's side enough to confirm nor deny that. 

"Are you looking forward to returning home?" Lyarra asked tentatively, leaning down in the slightest to move into her sister's path of sight. It took a few moments for her to respond, and just before Lyarra had gone to ask again she was interrupted. 

"Would you look forward to walking back into the arms of your captor?" Her words were venomous, yet the fury in them was not meant for Lyarra. She knew that well enough. 

"You're not his captive, Lyanna. Robert loves you, at the very least-" 

"At the very least? Oh, so I am meant to love a man because he gives me a golden cage rather than a steel cell? That is not love, dear sister. Robert will find and fuck the first thing he sees, you know that as well as I do." Lyarra was stunned for a beat too long, and before she could collect herself her sister had already ridden ahead. She was right. Lyarra knew she was right. Lyanna had never felt as adored as she had when Rhaegar placed the crown in her lap. A crown of her favorite flowers, solidifying her as the most beautiful lady in attendance. She would never get that from Robert, regardless of how he claimed to love her. 

Lyarra rode on in silence, watching her sister's back as she faded in the distance. She'd wished in that moment, that she hadn't begged her brother to spare her from Edmure Tully. That she was locked in a cage of her own, if only to relieve her sister from the pressure of carrying that weight alone. As it was, she did not know how it felt to be tied to a man that she did not love. She would, in due time. Yet it was her sister who had to shoulder that burden alone now. 

Okay. Well. There's that! I kind of had to force myself to end this chapter here, because I had too many ideas on where to go with it. I did not mean to make this 6k words.. Please bear with me. 

I do have some things I'd like to note about this chapter! One, this is all from Lyarra's perspective, so if something is not included it is because she was not there to witness it. The bit with Howland Reed and the Knight of the Laughing Tree is only briefly touched on in his chapter. Partially because I do not know too much about it, and also because Lyarra was just not present for it. She is always up to smth.. Free my girl. Two, the friendship between Jaime and Lyarra admittedly came out of nowhere. As I was writing, it just felt natural. The chemistry between the two was so entertaining that I could not stop writing for a moment. It feels fitting to me, though, considering what happens between the two later on (maniacal laughter) 

Three, we got our first Sandor appearance! Who cheered. I did not intend on introducing him so early but I saw my chance with the tourney and took it. Bless Lord Whent and his timing (that I altered with creative liberties) Four, the third chapter is likely going to be much shorter than the previous two have been. I have a lot that I'd like to write about Lyarra's life after what happens with Lyanna, so I know that I must separate the two chapters. Fifth and finally, there is a lot of history in the Stark line that is not touched on in this story. Ned being fostered in the Eyrie is only briefly touched on. Lyarra is a bit of an ignorant child, all things considered. She is very curious, but she spends a lot of her time in her own head. If something isn't touched on, it's likely because I felt that something was more important to include instead. I try to keep the familial storylines as close to canon as I can, so if anything isn't explicitly written feel free to assume it happens without saying. 

That is all I have for the time being! If you have any comments, feel free to leave them. 

Thank you, as always

Zevran.