#but one day soon after she passes he’s sitting by her grave

[blurglesmurfklaine]

Can’t stop thinking about dnd aus for multiple fandoms it’s actually a problem

[lulunothulu]

“Yes, sir.”

Bob Floyd x Reader

Summary: Bob is known to be the sweet and shy one of the Dagger Squat. Little do they know, as soon as he comes home to you, he sheds that persona—but only for you.

Content: 18+ smut, some fluff, a hungry Bob 😏

I feel like it’s canon that Bob fucks so let’s let him fuck us…for science 💗😇 Enjoy!!

Robert Floyd was many things. Shy? Yes. Quiet? Sure. But he was not one to leave his girl longing for anything. That’s why when you’d texted him, asking him to come home straight after work, he didn’t hesitate to make sure he did as soon as he was dismissed for the day.

“Baby on board!” Hangman calls out in the locker room. “Where are you going in a hurry?”

“Um, home?” He responds.

“I thought you were coming to Hard Deck with us,” Bradley says, poking his head from behind a locker door.

Fuck he said that didn’t he?

“Sorry,” he smiles. “Can we rain check?”

Hangman smiles, a knowing look practically shooting out of his eyes. “It’s your girl isn’t it?”

Bob only blushes, stammering, “Wh-why, well, umm…”

“Don’t worry,” Hangman smiles and winks at him. “My Darlin’ is the same way. You go get to her.”

Bob almost choked on his saliva, Bradley does it for him and causes Jake to turn around in surprise.

“What?!” Bradley asks when he’s calmed down.

“‘What’ what?” Jake asks back. “You didn’t know baby on board had a girl?”

“Nat told me about her but I thought she was pulling my leg,” Bradley responds.

Bob can hear Jake tell him something but that’s when he steps out of the locker room and heads toward the parking lot. Reaching his truck, Bob pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose before starting his drive home.

———

Pulling into the driveway of y'all's small home, Bob was anxious to get inside. From the text you'd send him about an hour ago, it sounded like you urgently needed him home after work.

Bounding for the front door, Bob swings it open expecting to see you in tears. However, he finds you seated on the kitchen island in nothing but a white lacy set of lingerie and matching stockings. On your feet are the heels you reserve when you're feeling extra fun.

Racking his brain, Bob tries to remember if there was something important happening today.

His birthday isn't for another few months, yours already passed...an anniversary?

You chuckle, watching your boyfriend try to think of what could've prompted this look.

"Are you gonna mull over what why I'm dressed like this, or are you gonna come over here and kiss me?" you ask, a smirk on your lips.

Bob nods, dropping his bag at the entryway before closing and locking the front door and practically running to kiss you.

"Hi, baby," he murmurs against your lips.

"Hi, Bobby," you respond, smiling into the kiss he presses to your lips.

He pulls away to take you in, admiring the way the flimsy fabric sits on your body.

Bob's navy eyes darken, turning almost midnight blue with lust and desire. "You did this for me?"

You nod, biting your lip and smiling.

Bob's eyes practically undress you as they roam down your body. He licks his thin lips before smiling and taking his glasses off, hooking them on the neckline of his shirt. You watch as he drops to his knee before you, a smirk appearing and face transforming to the alter ego Bob takes on when he fucks you.

"Are my dinner tonight?" he asks, voice deep and gravely. When you nod, he clicks his tongue. "You know I like when you use your words, Princess."

You hold in your smile before finally speaking. "Yes, I'm dinner for tonight. Unless you want something, then I can—”

Bob stops you, kissing the top of your thighs before opening them and kissing from the inside of your knee toward your pulsing core.

"What was that?" he asks between kisses.

"Nothing," you sigh, watching as his eyes slowly raise to meet your own.

He pulls you closer to him, smiling when you yelp at the motion. He resumes kissing up your other thigh until he reaches the thin fabric of your lacy thong.

The sensation of his breathing on top of your pulsing clit makes you whimper, causing Bob to chuckle against you. A chill runs down your spine when he kisses you over the fabric.

"Lift your hips," Bob orders.

When you do, he pulls the thong down, bringing the stockings down with before slowly pulling your heels off and peeling the rest of the thong and stockings off. He throws them to the side, smiling down at your cunt before squinting and pulling his glasses on.

"Keep them on," you tell him.

"They look dorky," he laughs.

"And I like how dorky you look in them," you smile.

Bob's eyes darken behind those circular lenses before he lowers himself back to your core and kisses your clit.

Warmth and electricity ignite from that spot, up your stomach, and then back down your legs. When he licks you from the bottom of your entrance to the tip of your clit, you moan his name.

“Fuck, Bobby,” you say, back arching a bit off the counter.

Bob chuckles, sending vibrations to your clit where his mouth is lightly sucking.

Another thing about Bob…he was a ravenous pussy eater. Once he starts, he won’t stop until you’re a shaking mess under him.

Moving his mouth, Bob laps your entrance, fucking you with his tongue and moaning at the taste of you. His nose continues where his tongue once was, nudging and flicking your clit as he eats you out.

Your hands fly to his hair, pulling lightly and gently moving his face back and forth, hips grinding into him.

You were so close, you could feel the wave or orgasms crashing into the lower part of your belly and you were desperate to let it go.

“Bobby!” You exclaim. “I’m so fucking close! Oh my god!”

Bob continues his licking, the tip of his dick pressing into his pants at the sounds of your unraveling. He smiles into your pussy when you finally come, sweet and tang coating his lips and tongue.

He only stops when you pull his head away from you.

Standing, Bob grabs the back of your neck before kissing you deeply. The taste of you still on his tongue making you smile and immediately feel that pulsing between your legs again.

“Stand up, baby,” he says, voice gruff and sending shivers down your body.

“Yes, Lieutenant,” you smile.

Bob’s hand slapping your ass as he turns you around makes you giggle in delight. You knew exactly what you were doing. You only call him Lieutenant when you were feeling extra and right now…you were feeling it.

“Are you gonna be a good girl for me?” He growls against your ear.

“Yes, sir,” you mutter.

He slaps your ass again, a yelp of delight coming from your lips.

“Louder,” he orders.

“Yes, sir!” You cry out.

Bob squats down, spreading your ass before licking your cunt and up your ass.

“Oh fuck!” You cry out.

Bob kisses up your back, one hand on your waist and the other undoing his pants. He lets you go to pull his pants clean down and stepping out of the pile.

His erect dick presses into your bum, making you moan and grind against it. Stopping you, Bob grabs your neck, kissing harshly.

“Do you feel what you do to me?” He moans in your ear. “That outfit gets me so fucking hard.”

“I feel it, sir,” you tell him.

“Do you want me to fuck you, Princess?” He asks, nibbling on the sensitive spot on your neck.

“Yes,” you breathe.

“Yes, what?”

“Yes, sir!”

Bob lines himself to your entrance, careful to angle himself to a position that’s comfortable for you before starting to thrust into you.

You’re tight. Almost too tight, Bob has to think of something else to keep from coming inside you at that second.

As he thrusts, you clench around him, walls wet and soft around him—making him speed his pace and mutter a fuck.

He can feel just how deep he is, and he can’t help but pound into you harder. The thought of being able to get himself completely in your cunt makes his head swim in lustful damnation.

He pulls out, spinning you around before lifting you in his arms.

“What’re you do—”

You don’t have time to finish what you were going to say because Bob is sinking you down onto his cock, gliding you up and down as he bucks up into you.

“Oh my god,” you moan, squeezing your eyes shut.

“No,” he growls. “Open your eyes when I fuck you.”

You obey, eyes locking on his navy ones and mouth forming an ‘o’.

He smiles at you before moaning. “You look so pretty taking my cock in the air.”

You moan in response, unable to form words. He walks you to a wall, pressing your back into it and speeding his pace again.

“Fuck baby,” he mutters, eyes still on you. “I’m so fucking close.”

“Come on my face,” you tell him.

“Come on my face, sir.” He corrects.

You smile. “Come on my face, daddy.”

Holy shit. Bob was gonna combust right inside you if you keep looking at him like that.

Pulling himself out of you and setting you in the floor gently, Bob watches as you get you to knees, mouth open and eyes still on his.

Pumping the last bit of orgasm to the tip, he spills all over your face with a groan.

He watches as you use your fingers to push his come into your mouth, making a show to swallow before opening your mouth.

“You’re so fucking hot,” he tells you, grabbing your hair and kissing you deeply.

“I love you,” you tell him when he pulls away.

“I love you more, Princess.” He tells you, helping you to your feet before sweeping his arms under your legs and carrying you to y’all’s room. “Now, let’s shower so we can go for a round two.”

Wheeeew…something’s crying between my legs. What..?

Tag: @sweetwhispersofchaos @ginghampearlsnsweettea @caystar13star @shinycupcakebaker @sunsetsimpsblog

[little-diable]

Unspoken nicknames and lost loves – Dean Winchester (smut)

I crave Dean Winchester as if he's a drug. How insane. Please like and reblog if you enjoyed reading this, your comments keep us writers motivated! Enjoy my loves. xxx

Summary: The reader walked out on Dean and his lifestyle years ago, and yet she has never managed to let go of her love for him. Perhaps a nest of vampires in her town is exactly what needed to happen to bring them back together. Honestly, just pwp.

Warnings: 18+, smut, piv, mentions some heartbreak and talks about leaving, fluff tho

Pairing: Dean Winchester x fem!reader (3k words)

Darkness wrapped itself around (y/n), it crawled up her tired body like a snake slithering through Eden, knowing that chaos would unfold soon enough. The stone bench she was sitting on did little to shield her body from the cold night, leaving her trembling as she waited for his arrival. And yet she didn’t even know if he would show, if he had listened to the panicked voice message she had left hours ago.

Her eyes wandered over the rows of endless graves, trying to decipher the unfamiliar names to keep herself distracted. A part of her wondered why she was so sure that he’d show, after years of silence on her end – years of his calls she had ignored, of sober and drunk messages she had deleted. And yet a small part knew that he’d always come when she called, keeping the promise he had made years ago.

Dean Winchester had always been her enigma, the one she found herself clinging to for years, tied to him from her teenage years on, all until the day where she had packed her bag to leave the brothers and their lifestyle behind. A day that had flipped her life completely, luring her away from the places she had called her home for years on end, ripping it all out of her hands because her anxious overthinking mind had gotten the best of her.

And yet she didn’t regret running, at least not from the unstable lifestyle she had never managed to adjust to. But no matter how many years had passed since that day, she couldn’t shake her longing for the man she had once wanted to marry, the man she had hurt more than words could express, the man she expected to find her in moments of desperation.

“A cemetery, how fitting.” Dean Winchester’s raspy voice rang in her ears, forcing (y/n)’s glassy eyes towards his frame. He towered over her, letting his green eyes dance over her features while hers did the same, taking in every inch of the handsome face she’d never forget, no matter what may happen to her.

“I wasn’t sure if you’d come, but I thought this spot was far away enough for you to at least consider meeting me.” Dean sat down next to her on the bench, letting one arm rest behind her back. It wasn’t the first time she was seeing him again after leaving him, they had run into one another every now and then, and yet it was the first time they were all alone, without Sam or any of her friends near.

“You know I’ll always come whenever you need me, (y/n).” The use of her name cut deeper than she thought it would, instantly missing the nickname he had once used, a familiar sound she craved like a starving woman in need of food. She had to avert her gaze for a moment, no longer able to get lost in the eyes she’d always find, no matter how big a crowd may be, lured towards Dean Winchester like two magnets made to fit.

“So, vampires, huh?” She was glad for the change of topic, all too aware of the doubts that began to grow louder, leaving her to wonder if this had been a mistake.

“You know I don’t want anything to do with this, but I knew I had to call you. I’m sure you picked up on the series of missing people around here, the second I saw them killing that woman, I knew you could help.” Her mouth felt dry, struggling to speak about the things she had sworn she‘d keep away from. But no matter where she was, no matter what she was doing, it seemed as if there was no way out of this mess she had once lived through.

“I will call Sam, we will take care of this.“ Dean‘s hand found her knee, softly squeezing it before he dropped it once again, instantly making her miss the soft touch. (Y/n) couldn’t stop herself from smiling at him, allowing her a handful of seconds to properly look at the man her heart was still aching for.

“You can stay at mine for the few days you two will be around, if you want.“ The offer had rolled off her tongue before (y/n) could even have tried to stop it. For a moment, Dean kept quiet, not speaking up while she silently cursed herself for making this even harder for her. But before (y/n) could try to pull the offer back, Dean let go of a soft hum.

“That would be nice, thank you.” A soft smile was shot her way before he rose to his feet, letting his hands disappear in the pockets of his trousers. Both allowed one another to have one last look, giving the moment an almost melancholic touch before Dean parted his lips once again. “Sam will call you once we’re on the way. Be careful, (y/n).”

And all she could do was watch Dean Winchester leave her side once again, taking another piece of her heart with him.

……

“Thank you for letting us stay, (y/n). I’m sure this isn’t easy for you.” Sam had his hand placed on her shoulder, holding her close while Dean was taking a quick shower. She had missed having Sam around, the one she had kept in touch with over the past years, desperate for updates on the man she still longed for.

“I’m happy to see you, both of you.” She didn’t manage to speak another word, didn’t want to dwell on the feeling of regret and anxiety simmering inside of her. All she could do was turn from Sam, focusing on the bottles of beer she had bought, very well knowing that some things won’t ever change when it comes to the Winchester brothers.

“Shower’s free.” Dean’s raspy voice lured Sam from her side, forcing (y/n)’s eyes to Dean who leaned against the door frame with wet hair and clothes that hugged his frame a tad bit too well. With heat clinging to her, (y/n) tried to busy herself with preparing some snack, anything she could do to keep her eyes from wandering back to Dean.

“It’s a nice place you’ve got here.” He plopped down in one of the chairs, shooting her a grateful smile as she reached a beer out for him to take. (Y/n) was grateful that he hadn’t commented on the pictures she had hung up around her place, old memories of her and the two brothers, of shared friends and long lost loved ones. She was grateful that he didn’t tease her about any of them, well aware of the way she had struggled without them close, even though she had been the one who had decided to run.

“It’s enough for now.” His hum rumbled through him, echoing through the kitchen like a cry she struggled to keep bottled in. “So, no boyfriend or roommate you share this place with?”

“Oh come on, Dean.” (Y/n) scoffed at his words while shaking her head. She knew that he couldn’t be this oblivious, unaware of the heartache she had caused them both and still hadn’t managed to overcome. Even back then, when she had left him, (y/n) had known that no other man would ever come after him, after the one she had loved more than life itself, the brightness to her darkest days, the air she needed to breathe. She was choking without him, dying a slow death she was to blame for.

“What? Don’t tell me you haven’t been with anyone, it’s been years, (y/n).” Dean’s words cut deep, dripping with spite. She couldn’t stop her body from turning towards him, from staring at him with glassy eyes that were filled with unshed tears. She wasn’t stupid, was well aware that Dean had been with many women, spending nights or even weeks with them, at least until another hunt called him and Sam away. And yet she didn’t manage to swallow her jealousy, the biting sensation that left a bitter taste on her tongue.

“I haven’t, and I doubt I ever will.” With her back turned towards him, (y/n) kept her eyes focused on the kitchen island she was leaning against, palms pressed flat against the cold material. She had to blink away her tears, unable to stop a few from rolling down her warm cheeks. The sound of his chair screeching rang in her ears, followed by the sounds of his feet softly meeting the ground, telling her that Dean was moving closer.

“Look at me, (y/n).” His hands found her waist, turning her front back towards him. His green eyes were filled with pain, a sensation so strong, it forced a sob right out of (y/n). Wordlessly he wiped her falling tears away while a soft smile played on the lips she had last kissed years ago. “Talk to me, what’s going on in that pretty head of yours?”

“It’s so pathtic, god, fuck.” Her eyes fluttered close, she didn’t endure looking at him any longer, needing a few moments to deeply inhale some new air. Dean kept his hand placed on her cheek, holding onto her while silence wrapped itself around the two ex-lovers who clung to one another as if it was their final moment together.

“I know it’s my fault. I walked away, I couldn’t cope with this life. But I left my heart with you, I knew that I won’t ever get to love another person the same way I love you. And for a while I thought I could live with that, away from you and that unstable life. But now,” a shaky breath left her as her eyes flickered back to his. “Now I am no longer so sure about that.”

Dean pulled her into his chest, letting his chin rest on her head while another sob clawed through (y/n). With every passing moment, it felt as if Dean was tightening his grip on her, scared that she’d run before he found the strength to reply.

“You know, I was angry at you for leaving, probably for years. But the older I get, the more I understand it. It wasn’t fair of us to drag you into this, to force you to move around and live without any perspectives while we were both so young. You deserve better and I’ve accepted that. But I also always knew that you were it for me, no other person will ever manage to make me feel that love we shared.” His words felt like another punch to her gut, forcing her through these memories she had tried to drown with the love she had once felt – unsuccessfully.

“I don’t want to let go of you, Dean. I know I have to, but I don’t know how much longer I can live with this pain.” With his hand finding the back of her neck, he pulled her tear-stained face away from his broad chest. She was high on his scent, the comfortable scent she had craved to smell for years. His thumb rang along her lower lip, feeling the bite marks her teeth had left behind while trying to stop herself from speaking up.

He didn’t have to ask for permission as he dipped his head down to kiss her, to press his lips against hers like he had once done numerous times each day. Instantly, she felt hurled back in time, letting herself fall back into a familiar routine as her arms found their way around his neck and his tongue met hers.

Only as the sound of Sam nearing managed to reach them did they pull away from one another. Breathlessly, they looked at one another for a handful of seconds before she turned back towards the snacks and Dean moved towards the chair he had been sitting on.

“So, how’s life around here, (y/n)? Is it as quiet as you wanted it to be?”

……

“Dean?” She mumbled his name as she woke to the feeling of someone slinging their arms around her frame to pull her against a broad chest. (Y/n) could instantly tell that it was Dean, wrapping her in his comfortable embrace as she shuffled around, needing to look up at him.

“I can’t stop thinking about what you said to me earlier.” His confession filled her bedroom, weighing heavy on both their souls. Slowly, she moved her hand up his shirt, letting it rest on his chest while her fingers traced his exposed collar bones.

“I meant it, every part of it.” The heavy exhale that followed her words interrupted their silence, drawing their eyes back to one another. It felt like a deja-vu, happening just like hours ago where he had finally kissed her again after all these years. Their lips melted together, hearts and souls intertwined while he pulled (y/n) on top of him.

“Do you want this? I need you to be sure, sweetheart.” Her heart skipped a beat at the use of his old nickname for her, leaving her dazed while a soft “Yes” managed to leave her slightly swollen lips. Without letting go of her, Dean flipped them around, hovering over her while he got rid of his shirt. He took his time, teasing her for a few moments before he exposed his upper body to her wandering eyes.

Dean allowed her to trace his marks, to explore the skin she had once been all too familiar with, needing a few seconds to adjust once again. But he grew impatient all too quickly, letting his hands disappear beneath her shirt to pull it from her frame. Within seconds his mouth found her chest, kissing their way to her naked breasts.

(Y/n)’s quiet moans were like fuel to the fire, begging him to suck on her hardening nubs while she bucked her hips, feeling his hardening cock press against her covered heat. Nothing could happen now to pull them away from one another, to stop them from what was about to unfold, they were too far gone, set on moulding a perfect mess they never wanted to get rid of again.

“It’s been too long, I need you, need to feel you inside of me, Dean.” She was proud of herself for even finding her words while he kept rubbing himself against her, leaving her bundle of nerves pulsing. His eyes flickered up to hers, filled with a teasing anticipation that shook right through her like lightning striking her body. All while she laid still, with her hands resting next to her as if she was scared to touch him, to mess something up.

“You’re still such a needy girl for me, aren’t you, sweetheart?” With her breath hitched in her chest it felt as if she was drowning, drowning in everything Dean Winchester emanated. He rose back to a sitting position, chasing the distance between them to pull her panties down her legs before he stepped out of his boxers. (Y/n)’s greedy eyes wandered up and down his naked body, thanking whoever was listening for giving her a second chance.

“I want you bare, let me feel you.” She trusted him, knew that Dean would never risk harming her in any way, and yet she didn’t dare look at him while speaking the words that drew a gritty moan from Dean. He found his way back to her, hovering over (y/n) while he dipped his head down to kiss her. The kiss seemed to wake her from her state, letting her hands find their way up his neck to his hair, tugging on the soft roots to wordlessly beg him for more.

Dean brushed the tip of his cock through her slit, spreading her arousal on her skin before he finally sank into her. A loud moan left the both of them in unison, a sound he tried to swallow with another kiss pressed to her parted lips. He gave them a few seconds before he started to fuck her with slow thrusts, enjoying every second of their all too intimate reunion.

It felt like a dream, a surreal experience she was only dreaming about but would never experience in real life. Having Dean oh so close, being buried beneath him while he fucked her with calculated thrusts that made black dots appear in her vision – a dreamy state she never wanted to escape from.

“Look at me, pretty girl. Let me see how good I’m making you feel.” Dean’s teasing words dripped with confidence, leaving her buzzing in heat as her eyes snapped towards his. They held eye contact while his thrusts grew faster, knowing that they couldn’t drag this out even if they wanted to. Too many years had passed, years they had been forced to spend without the other near, years they were now trying to make up for.

“I love you, Dean.” She wouldn’t have managed to stop the words from leaving her even if she had tried to. Words that left him chuckling in delight before he repeated them, making her heart flutter in her chest. A blissful state that only grew more prominent as she sneaked her hand between her bodies to rub her pulsing bundle.

“I want you to cum with me, don’t let go yet, sweetheart.” (Y/n) could only let go of a choked sound while she clawed her fingernails into his shoulders, trying to stop herself from letting go. They kept looking at one another until Dean finally nodded his head, allowing her to let go as his ferocious thrusts pushed them over the edge.

Both moaned in unison as they came together, breathless sounds they couldn’t care about. The blinding sensation felt as if they were burning alive, robbing them of their breath while they were certain that it had never felt this good before.

“I’m sorry for leaving, Dean.” (Y/n) mumbled the words into the darkness of her room. She clung to him as he slowly pulled out of her, only to plop down on the mattress right next to (y/n).

“I’m sorry for just letting you go. I will never be this blind again, sweetheart.”

[riofann]

1. tempestuous

Authors Note: I am trying something new. I like this story line please give me your feedback. Only reposts and likes please don't steal my work. XOXO Rose

Tempestuous: characterized by strong and turbulent or conflicting emotion.

Sunday March 3, 2019 

This wasn't just some little miss understanding, this was sabotage at its core. It's why you found yourself in a random warehouse strapped to the chair bruised and bloody.

Rio was convinced you had been under cutting him for months, that the money you were washing for him was short for the past 4 months. He claimed you had been purposefully giving him fake money mixed with real money, which ended up with him having Mick point a gun to the back of your head as soon as you walked in your home. 

Any attempts to have him show proof that you were not were thwarted by Nick egging Rio on, unbeknownst to you.

You had mentally prepared for death mentally prayed that your mother and father, sisters would heal from this pain along with the rest of your family. You hear footsteps approaching your heart begins to race. You had memorized his gait along with Mick's, this was it. Your death day was here.

There's nothing said but you feel your legs being untied along with your hands, he made sure to leave the head covering on. 

“Get up!” Mick says grabbing your arm

You're too scared to move but a strong grip on your arm forcefully drags you forward.

You’re uneasy as you walk because you didn't know where you were going,  you couldn't see anything. Mick helps you step in the van. The drive is quiet, you sit with your hands on your lap, body shaking at any given moment you could be dead. All the thoughts rush through your mind, your bar, your family, your house, your future, it's giving you a migraine. When the van stops, your mouth dries up you could be on a bridge over water or a remote land with a shallow grave.  

When you step out Mick removes the head cover and your eyes take time to adjust. 

You stood at the park near your home. There's nothing said, you look behind you as Mick gets in the van and drives away. You take in the scene, you can't think of how happy you are to hear children laugh in the distance or the sound of people talking. 

It's all still a shock to you. You look around and find a bench. Slowly you walk towards it. You sit at the most remote corner, no shower for a week, you’re positive you looked like you were unhoused. 

Moments pass before you let the tears flow. The deep wound of betrayal that you felt wouldn't be healed by a simple apology hell you hadn't even received one.

After a while as the sun begins to set you stand up slowly. The walk to your house would normally be 20 minutes but since you are weak it will take longer,  and staying out at night wasn't your plan. 

With unsure steps you begin to walk home. You’re happy to not see any familiar faces at the park. You couldn’t handle any one asking you what happened or you would have implicated Rio. 

When you get home you type in the key code to  enter and find your home in disarray. You deduced that Rio was looking for the money he claimed you were shorting him on. 

You search for your phone and find it in the rubble dead. Your house doesn't feel safe, it feels surreal, like at any moment Rio could be sitting on the corner chair waiting for you with a gun in hand and Mick lurking right around the corner, ready to shoot.

After a little more searching you find the charger and plug it in.

When it turns on you see the many calls missed your workers, your mom, your dad, your sister, your cousin, unknown numbers 

You make the first call “Hello! Y/N?!” You hear your mom scream through the phone

“Hey mom” you greet

“Where the hell have you been?! We've been calling you for the past week and you just ignore us?! We were worried about you!” 

It's all too much you begin to cry she didn't know,  no one knew about what you were doing but Rio and his crew

You gather yourself “I'm sorry mommy”  you cut her off

She pauses, “What's wrong?” 

You take in a deep breath “I'm sorry I disappeared mom I won't do it again” 

“Do I need to come over?” she lived a few states away in Ohio

You panic “NO!...” you take a deep breath again “No! I just I needed time to myself I got stressed I won't do that again I promise” you master up a calm tone

She sighs “okay, but what happened? Did you get hurt?” 

“You know the bar and life I just got overwhelmed” you lie 

“Honey I'm your mother you call me when things get tough you don't just disappear!” we called the police!" She lectures. “I couldn't sleep! Y/N it felt like something wrong happened!” your stomach drops she wasn’t wrong 

“I'm sorry mom I really am I won't do it again” 

“Well I'm coming to see you next week”  

“Mom you don't...”

She cuts you off “Nope I'm coming, something is wrong I know my child!” 

You sniffed “okay” you looked at your shaking hands 

“Okay well let me call you back I gotta get in touch with the police and everyone else let them know you’re alright” 

“Okay mom”

“When I call you better pick up and don't go missing again”

“I promise I won't!” 

“I love you” 

“I love you too” 

You hung up and go through similar conversation with your sister and the manager of the bar 

When it all ends you drag yourself to the shower and take one of the longest showers you’ve ever taken, you couldn't help but sob the entire time. You scrubbed so hard a week with no shower in a dingy warehouse you felt so dirty. 

All trust had been destroyed so much for this “partnership”

You hope to be able to sleep but you can't. Your body is riddled with anxiety, with every sound you hear your  heartbeat spiked. You couldn’t even bring yourself to drink water or eat anything that's in the fridge. You just want to disappear, move to a small town in the middle of nowhere and figure things out. 

You received a text in the middle of the night 

Rio: Business as usual 

You had stared at it for hours 

Business as usual as if all that happened meant nothing. 

How could you get out of this? What could you do to free yourself from this and him? Maybe offer up the bar? But this is something you worked hard on, this bar was one of the top bars in Detroit you weren’t willing to give it up to him. You had to think about what life would look like outside of the bar and what did you want out of life? 

Slowly over the course of the week you clean up the house, you eat something here and there and you drink water when you remember. You’re not sure how you managed to clean up the house in the state it was left in, must have been adrenaline.  Even after your mother insisted something was wrong when she came to visit you, that Friday you  faked the funk. How could you tell her that you were deeply entrenched with a man who has a whole cartel like of criminals on his side? All the questions that would come from that. You would have to explain how Rio essentially twisted your arm to agree and how you stupidly didn't go to the police.

When you finally show up at the bar the following Monday  everyone teases about your disappearance and you play along but you have things to do, books to manipulate money to wash. You lock yourself in the office while you gather the money. You count over 10 times making sure it's right each time. You don’t trust the machine as it counts you run it through verify by hand run it through again verify it then set it aside. You added extra just for good measure because you didn’t trust yourself either. 

Wednesday March 13, 2019 

As you wait for him to show up at your usual pick up spot, you feel sick to your stomach, no more sitting down and waiting for him. All sense of security between you two had crumbled. A car pulls up and you grip the bag tightly. 

It's a strange face

Your phone pings 

Rio: Got busy, you’ll be dealing with Jamal moving forward

The man walks up to you with a smile on his face. “You must be Y/N” You nod, he hands you a yellow envelope you hand him the bag with shaky hands “Good doing business with you” he comments before turning to leave 

“Can you make sure it's all there?” you blurt out 

He laughs at your ridiculous comment “can’t do that out here in public lady, I’ll let Rio know” 

You nod again and watch as he drives away. 

This is your routine now, Rio never confirmed instead he would just add the extra back into your cut. You adjust to this new norm of life. 

You don’t see or hear from him for months, maybe it was for the best after all, you were angry with him you had every right to be. Well things don’t last forever and nothing is written in stone. 

Tuesday June 4, 2019 

Your stomach drops when you walk into your house that night, you feel the day you were kidnapped replaying itself. There was Rio on the corner chair with Mick lurking around the corner. 

“Not here to hurt you mama” he comments lifting his hands up to show that he wasn't there with malicious intent

You hadn’t left the door, in fact you were slowly inching away

“I wouldn’t do that”

“What do you want?” You ask in a shaky voice

“We need to talk” “You can text it” 

“I can’t” 

You sigh and close the door 

“I need your help” he reveals as you enter the living room. You don’t respond

“All that money I gave you, I need it, I’ll pay you back” 

You place your purse down “Why don’t you go get it I’m sure you know where it is”

He smirks because that was true  “don’t be like that mama” he tries to win you over 

“Don’t be like..” you pause “FUCK YOU RIO!” You scream “YOU THINK YOU CAN JUST SHOW UP AND ASK FOR MY MONEY, THE MONEY I WORKED HARD FOR?! WITHOUT AN APOLOGY WITHOUT ACKNOWLEDGEMENT OF WHAT YOU DID TO ME!?” 

He rolls his shoulders back “It's just business” “BUSINESS?!” You stomp towards him Mick goes to interfere but Rio stops him. You glare at Mick “WHAT? YOU DON’T THINK YOUR BOSS CAN HANDLE HIMSELF, HE'S THAT MUCH OF A BITCH?!” When you turn to face Rio a blank stare replaces his expression no longer amused by your anger, guess that insult wasn’t taken lightly “I’VE BEEN YOUR PARTNER FOR 2 FUCKING YEARS! 2 YEARS! AND NEVER DID I EVER SHORT YOU. I ALWAYS MADE SURE THAT THE AMOUNT I GAVE YOU WAS RIGHT! AND YOU WHAT? YOUR FUCKING COUSIN” he shifts uncomfortable that you know the details behind the scenes “YEA I FOUND OUT, THE MOTHERFUCKER YOU CLAIM TO BE UNTRUST WORTHY YOU ALL OF A SUDDEN TRUST HIM?!” 

He says nothing “YEA JUST BUSINESS THIS IS WHO YOU ARE AS A PARTNER HUH? YOU KNOW NOTHING ABOUT LOYALTY AND PRINCIPAL, FUCK EVERYONE ELSE SO LONG AS YOU GOT YOUR MONEY RIGHT?” You pause looking at him waiting to see any sort of remorse, regret, something, anything! However he says nothing, his face is stoic like you were complaining about nothing important. As the tears stream down your face, you accept that this was pointless, he was never going to admit fault and you were never going to be able to step away from this life unless you were dead or in prison.  You take a deep breath, defeated you say  “You know where the money is go get it” you step away and motion towards the direction. He gives Mick a nod. He says nothing else, and you watch as they both leave. As soon as the door closes a loud scream leaves your body as soon as they walk out. How were you going to get out of this? Maybe fake your death or  leave the country to start over in a small village in the middle of nowhere!

Nothing changes after that day, still dealing with Jamal and still trying to find a way out of things. You receive an invitation from Nick to some sort of  masquerade ball in the city to “raise” funds for local charities. Mayor "duties". You assume not attending wasn’t an option.

Saturday July 13, 2019

The day of the ball arrives, you booked a town car for the night. No point in driving yourself and as far as you were concerned if anyone wanted to hurt you they could because you had no safety net after all. 

You step into the space you have to admit Nick went all out planning this event because it looked like a scene from a movie. You find your table and take a seat. You know no one who sits at your table you take a look around and spot Rio. It was easy,  anyone could spot his tattoo from a distance. A few speeches, the auction, then dinner is served proceeding with the party next. You look down at your watch, you had spent enough time at the event and you were hungry. 

If there was anything you learned from Rio and Nick never trust them so the most you did was nibble on your dinner plate and take small sips of your drink. 

“This seat taken?” you hear from behind you making look

You smile “No”

“Great!” he pulls out the chair 

“Hi I’m Alejandro”  he extends his hand to greet you 

You shake his hand  “Y/N Nice to meet you” 

He bows his head “Mucho gusto cariño (nice to meet you dear)”

“So do you work with Rio?” He takes a sip of his drink 

Not again it felt like you were being set up “Why do you want to know?” you finally take him in a man the same age as Rio and Nick rocking a gold canine tooth with many necklaces and rings on his finger. Gold to be exact. He had a thick accent, you assume somewhere from Central America or Spanish speaking country. 

He waves his hand around his head “Rumors go flying around” You nod still unsure of the purpose of this conversation “And Majority of the women here are plus one to their boyfriends or husband wasn’t hard to find you, that dress you came in all alone, heads were turning” he shamelessly looks you over biting his lip

“What do you want?” this conversation needed to end quickly 

He smiles, it makes you uneasy “Oh I don't want anything....” he pauses “It's a shame that they put you through that” you shift uncomfortably “But now you know who they are, the Serraño family. This is how they operate, they are vicious, they don’t care how many lives they destroy, they don’t operate with any principals...” 

You cut him off “I have come to that conclusion” 

He stops and chuckles lightly “Anyway I’m a much better option, I honor my principals and partnerships. I will have people reach out to you next week. Maybe I can take you out to lunch and we can talk.  You don’t have to stick with them” 

You nod but look past him to see Rio staring at both of you. Even the women trying to engage with him were failing due to how his gaze was dead set on you and Alejandro.

Alejandro looked back following your gaze as an additional ‘fuck you’ to Rio he raises his glass as a toast before turning back to face you “Ooop! I’ve been caught” with that he quickly stands up “Talk to you later cariño” 

You decide that this is your cue to leave and make your way out of the building. 

Authors Note: Please leave your feedback, again please don't steal. Only repost, like, or give credit.

Oh I can also start a tag list just let me know.

XOXO Rose

[megalony]

Little Dragon

This is a new Aegon Targaryen imagine I hope you will all like, feedback is always lovely.

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Masterlist

Summary: Aegon doesn't want to be King, he doesn't want to be anything, except a father. Looking after his little girl is the one thing he knows he can do. And when they all attend a ball and a fight breaks out, Aegon protects her.

Enjoy.

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"Aegon…"

A quiet grumble passed his pale lips while his body turned towards the voice he could recognise in his sleep. His arm lazily reached out until his hand could curl around (Y/n)'s hip and his legs tangled in the sheets so he could scoot closer towards her.

When he realised she was sitting up, Aegon cracked an eye open to make sure she didn't have the babe in her arms before he tightened his arm around her waist and wrenched her back down. He smiled at the squeak (Y/n) let out and he emitted another groan when he felt her fingers tangling in his locks. He nuzzled his face into the crook of her neck and looped his leg around (Y/n)'s waist, effectively pinning her down to the bed.

"You need to get up, love." (Y/n) curled her fingers through Aegon's hair and kissed the top of his head when he murmured something incoherent against her skin.

He looked more peaceful now than he had done for the past few days and (Y/n) begrudged telling him he needed to move, but she knew soon enough if he didn't get up people would come looking for him. But when he curled around her like this, gripping her flesh tightly and rutted against her, (Y/n) couldn't break away.

This was the longest nights sleep Aegon had had in weeks. His father's failing health had taken a toll on everybody but when he passed and the crown was forced onto Aegon's head, he started to fall.

His marriage to (Y/n) was the one thing that stopped Aegon from drinking himself into an early grave. She brought the light back to his violet eyes and put colour back to his cheeks. She made him smile for the first time in years and showed him what it was truly like to be loved and not just wanted and desired as an object to move around the board. (Y/n) didn't use him for political points or push him to her advantage.

She loved him.

Then when Araela was born, Aegon perked up and changed into someone better, someone nobody had ever seen before. He loved his little girl to the end of the Earth and now they had a son, Aegon was briefly elated before he crashed back down when he was crowned King.

The ceremony took place three days ago and since then, Aegon barely spoke, barely ate and refused to leave his chambers.

He didn't want to be King, he wished Aemond was the older brother or that Aemond would just usurp him and take the iron throne for himself. He would make a better King than Aegon could ever be and he actually wanted the birth right Aegon had been given. But he was crowned now and there was nothing that could be done.

For a few minutes, (Y/n) basked in the feeling of her husband curled around her like he was one of their children and not the King, heir to the Iron throne. She raked her fingers through his tangled silver hair and kissed the top of his head as Aegon slowly started to wake up beside her.

He wanted to stay in bed all day but he knew his mother would be walking up the stairs at this very moment to come and scold him for not being up yet.

"Don't leave me," Aegon grumbled quietly into (Y/n)'s neck and he felt her chuckle vibrate through his chest and her lips on his forehead again.

"I'm just going to fetch Vaeron," With a lasting kiss to his temple, (Y/n) slowly unravelled herself from him so she could go get the newborn from the crib at the foot of the bed.

For a moment, (Y/n) thought her husband would flop back down and nestle into the pillows like a baby bird. But instead, he slowly shuffled over until he was laid on his back, propped up against the pillows. It seemed he was going to try and stay awake now and as surprising as it was, it was also relieving and (Y/n) smiled softly at him.

When he was in this sort of mood it took a lot to persuade him to get out of bed. (Y/n) never pushed him. If he wanted to sleep she would let him be and stay if he requested. If he didn't want to eat she would fetch him something to drink so he didn't make himself too ill and if he didn't want to talk, she would hold him until the storm in his mind passed over.

No one understood the torment Aegon was going through or what they were all putting him through and (Y/n), for one, would never act towards him as others did. They pretended he was being childish or having a tantrum when he was just broken and being forced into a world he couldn't function in.

(Y/n) found that when she comforted and tried to understand Aegon, he didn't try to drown himself in wine as much. He wouldn't lash out or cry or scream or throw things in utter frustration if (Y/n) comforted him and listened to what was wrong. It was something he wasn't used to, not even his mother tried to see things from his point of view anymore.

Part of Aegon felt groggy and somewhat ill from the lack of sleep he'd had this week and the amount of sleep he got last night which seemed to do him more harm than good.

But he perked up and managed to smile when (Y/n) sat down on the bed with their son in her arms.

Aegon let his head nestle back into (Y/n)'s shoulder and he feathered his lips against her neck while his arm secured around her waist so he could coil back around her again. He was sure she was about to say something if it hadn't been for their bedroom door bursting open and a flock of silver curls becoming visible near the foot of their bed.

"Kepa!"

It was as if a flame had been set alight within Aegon and the sudden change was instant and very clear. He went from curled up at (Y/n)'s side to sitting up straight with his arms out and one of the purest smiles (Y/n) had ever seen on his face. Something in his eyes sparkled instead of their usual dimness and even his posture lifted when Araela was within his sight.

The four year old clambered onto the bed and crawled over the sheets until she could reach Aegon. Her hands grappled along his legs until his arms were within reach and she didn't see the wince or hear his grumble when she stood on his thighs to get as close to him as she could.

His ring cladded fingers curled around her sides and he hoisted her off his legs so he could cradle her against his chest like she was a toddler again.

She giggled excitedly when he nestled his face against her neck and fluttered kisses on her cheek repeatedly while her arms looped around his neck to hold him closer until she was almost strangling him. But he didn't mind.

"Morning, little dragon,"

Araela gently rubbed her nose against his before Aegon sat her down on his lap, making sure the sheets were pulled high around his waist since he wasn't wearing any clothes underneath. It was frequent during the hot nights like these for Aegon to forgo clothes at night despite knowing that on most occasions, his daughter would try and find her way into his chamber in the morning to greet them both.

"Let me look at you," His words were whispered quietly against her temple while he smoothed his hands across her face and brushed her hair behind her ears so he could look down at her. She knew what he was going to say next, he could tell from the way she tilted her head up and took a deeper, bubbling breath to contain her excitement and love. "Hm, even more beautiful than yesterday, just like your mother."

Her giggle was enough to brighten Aegon's mood significantly and he tilted her head down so that he could kiss her forehead before he looped his arms around her middle and cocooned her into his chest again. This was where he wanted to stay, this was how he wanted to spend his days as King.

He didn't want to be sat on the Iron Throne entertaining the idiots of the council listening to their debates and sorting their messes. He wanted to be sat right here, with his wife and children who made him feel enlightened and worthy when he thought the worst of himself.

"I'm so sorry, your Grace. The Princess was insistent on seeing you both this morning."

Both (Y/n) and Aegon looked across to see their daughter's maid stood at the foot of the bed. Her hands were clasped tightly in front of her, her cheeks were flushed pink and her head was tilted down to look at her feet. She was never sure how close to approach or where to look or if eye contact was even appropriate. And now, since Aegon was King and his moods were uncertain unless his daughter was around, no one knew what to do around him.

Everyone feared objects flying across the room and tempers to flare when really, Aegon didn't have the energy to do any of that. A growl was the worst they would get as of late.

"Not a problem, you may leave. The Princess will stay with us," Aegon dismissed her with a wave of his hand. He would remain here until his mother or grandfather came looking for him and demanded his presence. Until then, Araela would stay with them just like she always did when she sought out her parents. She was never far from them, no matter what was going on.

"Kepa…"

"Yes, my love?" Aegon perched his chin on top of her head while he slowly started to sway them from side to side, much like (Y/n) was currently doing while she nursed Vaeron.

"Am I allowed to the ball tonight?" Araela curled her legs up beneath her and nestled down into her father's bare chest while her fingers skimmed up and down his arms and traced the rings he wore.

Her big round eyes glanced up to look at her mother who pursed her lips to stop herself from smiling. (Y/n) knew nothing could get past her daughter. There was a ball taking place tonight, supposedly in celebration of Aegon's coronation and the only person not looking forward to it was the King himself. Aegon didn't like events being about him and he certainly didn't want a ball in his honour when he didn't even want the throne.

But it was already arranged and taking place so he knew he just had to grin and bear it. Hopefully with his wife by his side and a glass or ten of wine in his hand, it wouldn't be too bad.

"I suppose so, besides, I don't want to go without my two girls." He couldn't see why Araela couldn't go, at least for an hour or so. It was a ball, everyone else would be there and it wasn't like the coronation. It was dancing and music and festivities, she could enjoy it for an hour and then retire back to her room with her maid.

"What about brother?" Her small hand reached out for Vaeron who was nestled in the crook of (Y/n)'s arm, slowly drifting back off to sleep.

"Afraid not, sweetheart. He won't like it," (Y/n) kissed Araela's hand before she glanced over at Aegon. "Kepa will have to pick out a dress for you to wear."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Turning her head, (Y/n) perched her chin on Aegon's shoulder and curled her hands a little tighter around his bicep clad in the leather tunic. She had to admit, after how horrid he had been feeling these past few days and how much of a strain the coronation had took on him, he didn't let it show.

Aegon stood tall beside her, his hands held respectfully in front of him, his shoulders square and broad beneath the black leather that was draped over every inch of his skin. He wore a gold link chain across his shoulders and part way down his chest which was the only spot of colour on his clothing making it stand out more. The boots made him a little taller than he was, almost at Aemond's height. His hair was neat and tidy and brushed behind his ears and his complexion didn't look nearly as ill and deathly as before.

He even had the conquerors sword strapped to his hip, although (Y/n) wasn't sure whether that was just for show or if he was preparing for any unforseen attacks or events happening tonight.

All he needed was the conquers crown on his head and he would look as regal as he did on his coronation. But he refused to wear it. This was as regal as he wanted to look, he didn't want the crown as well.

"Shall we sit down?" Aegon mumbled the words quietly against the shell of (Y/n)'s ear before he slowly guided her towards the table at the far end of the hall.

Every few seconds, his eyes would drift around the room until he found his mother standing just beside the table, Araela stood obedient at her side with a broad smile and their hands entwined. Aegon didn't want to lose sight of his daughter, not for a second. He was counting down the time until she would return to her room and then he and (Y/n) could later retire soon. Aegon wanted this night over and done with.

"You look beautiful, by the way." To say he liked (Y/n)'s dress would be a vast understatement.

Her dress was the darkest shade of green Aegon had ever seen with streaks of gold thread sewn throughout that almost looked like scratch marks from the claws of a dragon. It was low cut down the chest and had very thin straps that hung just off her shoulders and no sleeves due to the immense heat. It hugged her newfound curves and enticed Aegon to the point he was desperate to leave the ball and tear the dress to the floor.

"Thank you,"

As they advanced towards the table, they came to a stop beside Aemond who was stood watching the event closely like he was scouting out any threats. He was always on edge, no matter where he was or what he was doing.

"Brother," He dipped his head towards Aegon before his gaze moved to (Y/n) and he gave a small smile. "Care to dance?"

(Y/n) looked from Aemond to her husband, smiling when Aegon kissed her temple before he nodded and took a step back.

"Go ahead, my love."

She knew better than anyone that Aegon didn't dance. Their wedding ceremony was the only time he had participated in a dance of any sort and although (Y/n) had loved every moment of it, she knew not to ask him again for a dance. He didn't like participating and if people started to look, it put him on edge.

But Aemond, however, didn't care if people stared. He was rather fond of dancing, it was a skill he had mastered and he knew his sister in law was fond of dancing too.

No one else dared to ask (Y/n) to dance. Aemond was the only one who did because he was the only one who wouldn't get watched or glared at by Aegon if he danced with (Y/n). No one liked the glares they would get from the former Prince and now he was King, one wrong look at his wife would earn a punishment no one wanted to take.

(Y/n) took Aemond's outstretched hand and let him guide her towards the dance floor amongst the other dancing couples. It was somewhat charming to be dancing along with everyone else, trying to blend in whilst knowing the pair of them stood out like a sore thumb. (Y/n) loved the music, it was the only reason she could tolerate such big events like these. For Aegon, he suffered through with wine, but (Y/n) drowned everything out with songs.

She wanted to dance again and again and keep going until her feet bled and the night had ended. But two short songs was enough to send her head reeling and her chest heaving which wasn't a good idea when her dress was a little constricting. It had to be adjusted after Vaeron was born and she was barely getting her old figure back yet. Although Aegon loved her figure the way it was now.

"Thank you for the dance, brother."

"My pleasure," (Y/n) gratefully hooked her hand into the crook of Aemond's elbow and let him slowly guide her away from the dance floor and back towards the high table where the rest of their family were sat.

When they reached the table, (Y/n) smiled curiously up at Aemond when a certain grin crooked along his pursed lips and his brow raised like something had just popped into his head.

She watched, intrigued, as Aemond slowly unhooked his arm from hers when she was stood next to Aegon's chair before he rounded the table like a man on a mission. When he reached where his mother was stood, pointing out various objects and important people to Araela, Aemond went down on his knees in front of his niece and held out a hand.

"I do believe no one's asked you for a dance yet, little Princess. Care to dance with me?"

Araela's doe eyes drifted behind her uncle to catch a glimpse of her parents, but the anticipation was undeniable and she couldn't refrain from grinning from ear to ear. Her maid told her she wouldn't be at the ball for very long and her father told her she would mostly stay by their side until it was time for her to leave. She had spent the last few minutes talking with her grandmother about the ball but seeing her mother dance was like a dream. It looked so fun to her even if she was only four.

When she looked at her parents, Aegon nodded with an encouraging smile he saved just for her and (Y/n) nodded and did a small curtsey to remind her daughter to do the same.

With a wobbling curtsey, Araela grabbed Aemond's hand tightly and skipped beside him along to the other dancers, a lot of whom stopped what they were doing when Aemond passed by with his niece. If there hadn't been so many people on the dance floor, and Aemond hadn't been as tall as he was, it would have been fine for him to just lean down and hold her hands while they danced.

But he didn't want people barging past or knocking into his young niece and with his height, it was easier for him to pick her up and sit her on his hip for the first dance. When a few people moved, he would set her back to her feet and let her dance to her heart's content.

Aegon felt the urge to slouch in his seat and prop his feet up on the table like he used to do during supper, but he refrained. It was an important night and so far it was going well. Some people even smiled at him every now and then and his mother looked pleased, he didn't want to ruin that. He could remain regal and restrained for one night.

He downed the wine in his glass and clicked his back into place before he leaned to the right, enough so that he could press his lips against the top of (Y/n)'s head while his hand found hers resting on her lap.

His eyes could look nowhere but at his wife and then his daughter, two of the three most important people in his life.

Something stirred in him when he saw his brother dancing with his daughter, maybe if Araela asked Aegon for a dance, he would be quick to oblige. There was nothing she could ask him for that he would deny her.

"Do you think-" (Y/n) stopped whatever she was about to say when a loud crash rattled through the hall and vibrated off the stone walls.

Her eyes that had admittedly been staring up at her husband moved to scan the hall when she felt Aegon tense and sit straight beside her. His hand clamped down on her leg and his boots dug into the floor, a sure sign he was unnerved.

There was a fight.

Someone had started a fight and as the music died down, raised voices flooded the air instead and words were spat like venom.

Aegon could feel unease and anger radiating through his blood while he pushed up from his chair and advanced round the table, feeling (Y/n) close behind him. He moved one arm to wrap around (Y/n)'s waist, keeping his wife safely stood behind his frame just in case the fight got closer or another broke out. but his other hand was already curled around the handle of the blade strapped to his waist.

This was not the time nor the place for a brawl to happen, it was supposed to be a happy occasion and Aegon had his girls here. He wouldn't have fighting in front or around them.

He wasn't sure where to look, Aegon couldn't keep his eyes focused or in check. He tried to look towards the fight since more men were piling around creating a circle around those who started it but others were jumping in. Throwing punches, pushing others to the side and using enough force to splatter blood on the stone floor.

But then his eyes scoured the dance floor where dancing couples had stopped and gathered together. Some were trying to run and leave, others were glued to the floor unsure where to go and some were shouting obscenities.

Aegon could still see his brother.

Aemond had both his hands tightly clamped down on Araela's shoulders so he didn't lose her for even half a second and her quivering frame was tucked into her uncle's legs for safety. After a heartbeat, Aemond gave her a small nudge and started to walk across the dance floor, bypassing the other people to try and reach his family near the table which was out of the way of the brawl.

When he was close enough to the brawl to see what was happening, Aegon let go of (Y/n), about to push into the circle of people until his eyes glanced back towards his brother.

With his hands still on his niece's shoulders, Aemond twisted her to the side and tensed his back to shield her from a couple of stumbling fools. But the brute force of them bashing into Aemond toppled Araela down to her hands and knees.

The four year old's scream was so delicate and quiet compared to the hustle and bustle crowding the hall but Aegon heard it as if it was the only noise for miles around. She screamed when she fell and again when Aemond hoisted her up just before someone took a step back, about to stand on the little princess.

Changing his course, Aegon ran down the steps and reached his brother just as he hurried from the crowd with simmering anger raging in his eye. If his niece wasn't so young, Aemond would have branded his sword for the disrespect and the sheer amount of people pushing past and knocking her down when they knew how young she was and more to the point, who she was.

"Come here," Aegon breathed through the words as his girl was passed into his arms and he quickly kissed her temple before rushing to place her into (Y/n)'s waiting arms instead.

(Y/n) coiled her daughter to her chest, repeatedly kissing the back of her head while she watched Aemond disappear to both Alicent and Haelena's side and escort them out before things got worse. But when her focus shifted back to her husband, she could see the rage pouring off of him in waves.

He roughly barged his way through the circling crowd until he reached the two that were still pummelling fists into each other.

The guards should be here, dealing with this, not Aegon. Instead, they were trying to move people out of the way and help escort the rest of the family out to safety. But this needed containing and Aegon's calm demanour had disappeared the moment his daughter got mixed into this mess.

If she weren't here, Aegon would have been calmer. Hell, he probably wouldn't have left his seat, he would have let the guards deal with this and with a wave of his hand he would have got them to leave and the party would continue. But with his daughter here, things changed. He wouldn't have her around when this was happening, he wouldn't stand for her being hurt or frightened like this. And if these men didn't stop within the next ten seconds, Aegon would see blood spill and he didn't care for the consequences.

"Enough!"

He barely felt the elbow to the stomach he received, his adrenaline and rage made up for the air being knocked out of him. Trying again, Aegon grabbed one of the men by the scruff of his neck and he brandished his knife in his other hand, pressing the tip so far into the man's neck that blood started to dribble across the blade.

"I said, enough!"

With a growl, Aegon tossed the larger man down on his back on the floor and pinned him down with a knee jabbed into the top of his chest. He almost smiled when he saw how hard it was for the idiot to breathe and he tilted the blade at a different angle so it was covering the circumference of the man's neck, ready to slice when and if Aegon felt like it.

"Y-your Grace…"

"My wife is here, my daughter is here and if you can't tell, that's her screaming. Do you know the punishment for terrorising my child? Hm?" Aegon snarled each word and bared his teeth, scrunching his nose as he delievered his threat by digging his blade into the man's neck and starting a small slice through the skin.

"Kepa," He would have gutted him right then if it wasn't for that quiet, shaking voice that made him sigh and briefly close his eyes. "I want Kepa!"

Aegon revelled in the cry he earned from removing the blade swiftly and tucking it back into the slot around his waist.

"Deal with them," His eyes were cold and menacing as he pointed at the two responsible who were hurriedly grabbed by many guards. "Everyone leave, now. The ball's over, get out."

(Y/n) had never heard such cold malice in her husband's voice and the dangerous look in his eyes made her knees go weak. This was how people expected him to be, this was the cunning, uncaring King everyone tried to turn him into and it was so different from who Aegon really was behind closed doors. But they had unintentionally threatened his daughter, his precious little dragon, and no one got away with that.

His family was his weakness.

The darkness sweeping across Aegon's face vanished the moment he turned towards his girls and his lips softened like butter when he reached his arms out for Araela who almost jumped across from (Y/n) over to her father. He coiled her into his chest and kissed the back of her head whilst threading his fingers through her silver curls. He could feel her shaking against him and how she curled up until she was almost the size of a babe resting against his clothed chest.

They had frightened her. Aegon hated to see her like this, he never knew how to calm her down or what to do to make it better.

When he was sure Araela was nestled safely in one arm, Aegon reached his other arm out and wound it around (Y/n)'s waist. He reeled her into his side, instantly feeling the anger melting away when (Y/n) kissed his neck and her hands found their place on his heaving chest.

Silence followed them as they walked out the hall and Aegon let his eyes fall closed, relishing in having both his girls in his arms. He wasn't going to have Araela attending any more events like this and he wasn't going to be seen at many of them either.

He wouldn't risk his family for anything.

[alibasnur]

My Friend's Widow

Pair: Sebastian Sallow x Reader

Words: 700-ish

Warning: Written in Sebastian's POV, angst, mention of sexual act, major character's death

Author's note: This has been sitting in my draft and i impulsively decided to post it before going to bed

“Today, I brought in some flowers for my friend’s widow. I cut them a little messier, just like how her blind husband used to do when he was alive. 

It was always both of them in that little house as the couple had no child. I remember how she used to tell me that she wanted several of them. But her husband despised the idea of having any at all. She must have loved him so much that she had a change of heart.

 

I wished she had given me the same mercy back then. She used to be my betrothed before she was my friend’s wife. I loved her and I treasured her in the best way that a foolish boy could do. I made a grave mistake of falling back into a deed that I had promised her not to step in, which also caused me and my friend to have a falling out.

Two years after that, I received the news about their marriage. I had never seen a bride so beautiful that it hurt me. A precious, blushing bride laughing in his husband’s arm. So beautiful, but she wasn’t mine.

It grew unbearable to simply look her in the eyes. I didn't stay much longer, just a simple congratulations and then I set off.

But I was glad. My heart sank so much that I didn’t have the strength to pick up a wand and set that wedding arch on fire. At least I didn’t make that mistake anymore. 

I knew what I’m capable of in my worst temper. But that time, I didn’t want to be the reason for her to cry. I wanted to be good for her. No matter how much I’m aching and suffering for it. 

I could be Merlin had she asked for it. But no, she wanted him instead.

I got struck by a high fever and in my sleep, I called for her name. A few days later, I picked myself up, forced myself some stale pieces of bread and water and I didn’t know why and what for.

Sometimes, It still terrified me to see her in the finest witches I came across. It was a bitter reminder that somehow I still belonged to her. She could live a life without me and I would be the one trying to numb myself from the hurtful thought of what things could’ve been.

At one point, a few years later, I could open the drawer and see the ring that she had so coldly returned with only a little sentiment. I thought that I had made up my mind. I thought that I could listen to someone speak of her, and feel no sting.

But as soon as the news of my friend’s passing was at my door, I came as quickly as a gust of wind. I found her, looking at me behind her mourning veil. Her arms reached out to me, and as I held her, I could feel every single wall I had built shatter. She said that she needed me to stay. So I stayed. 

She would call for me on her loneliest nights, I warmed her bed when it felt cold and empty, and I’ll do it gladly. After years of suffocating, I got to breathe her in. At this point, I would take anything. Her lips, her loving gaze, her skin that I could caress, even though she would call for her late husband’s name as I drove her to the peak. It felt like a stab through the chest, but I said nothing. The heartache that she inflicted on me felt as if it redeemed me, that maybe, i would be deserving of her again.

I would wait so patiently, until she comes to love me again. If not soon, then the year after. I would try to read the look on her face, behind that black, sheer lace of a veil, searching for a sign, waiting for it in every word that ever came out of her lips.

So I counted days of the year, but as my heart started to grow weary, today, she put her mourning dress back into the wardrobe, and she stared at me so lovingly that I couldn’t be mistaken.”

[aklaustaleteller]

Should've Known

When fate made them stumble across each other in an art shop, Y/n should've known that what was coming with Klaus couldn't be anything more than an affair because of her true identity. And yet when she fled town, Y/n hadn't expected the news of a grave mistake made by Klaus' own town to shatter her heart into so many pieces that she’d just let them lay.

Warnings - mentions of death, and a description of an intimate moment.

Word Count - 1.3k

Masterlist | please reblog the fic if you like it!

I'm so sorry but here I am, serving you guys with another two part-er (I deeply apologise) Part two should be out withing two days and eeek I'm so excited to write it! Hope you all enjoy this one until then <3

Update: You can now read part two here!

This was the second time that their eyes had locked since Y/n had entered the shop, and their mouths instinctively shared a smile once again. Klaus quite simply couldn’t stop looking at her, she was so mesmerising that he wished she didn’t keep catching him every time his eyes would drift onto her to drink in her dreamy sight. 

Her hair was half up and half down, intricate patterns designed like a labyrinth with the sinister intent to hypnotise the one looking, which Klaus very easily was. His eyes trailed down further and met with her eyes, only they were looking down at something while a small frown sat between her brows. Her nose led him lower and then his gaze landed on her mouth, on her lips that looked so pillowy and compelling, their corners lifting up in a smile making Klaus lift up his eyes with a defeated smile that gave away his realisation that he’d been caught staring again. 

She shook her head, a soft laugh escaping her mouth before she went over to the elderly man to pay him for the art supplies she’d collected. She was a piece of art herself, Klaus thought as he saw her leaving but not before passing him a last smile. 

He came back to that art shop more and more frequently then, hoping to see her there but returned home every single time with disappointment weighing his heart lower and lower into his stomach. He just wished to see her again, and again, and again. She was all that was on his mind and with her portrait beginning to lose colour in his memory, he was pathetically desperate to see her again. 

But as he went inside the shop again for the insurmountable time, Klaus’ nose caught a scent that immediately made his eyes light up. This was her fragrance and  once his gaze had lifted, it immediately landed on her already looking and very gently waving at him. 

Klaus smiled at that, focusing his attention on the floor for a bit as he tried to hide his blush and giddiness at finally seeing her again. She looked the same, if not even more alluring because of the green coloured clothing she was dressed in, the colour fading into different shades as her dress poofed and flowed down to meet the ground. 

He nodded at her, his smile not once leaving his mouth as he picked up a set of paint brushes to buy along with a paint set of which the colours fit her appearance the most – which had him staring at her again and again to make sure he wouldn’t mess up any hue. On the other end, Y/n picked a sketchbook and a set of pencils before going back to the front to pay for it. 

Klaus came out soon after her, watching as she paid and left the shop. Klaus hurried to pay for his stuff as well, rushing outside to not miss her, only to find her standing there, waiting for him with the slyest of smiles he’d ever seen. 

As if their eyes had spoken for a brief moment, Klaus’ feet began following hers down the dirt trail that led to a large field bordering a shimmering river. Neither of them uttered a single word on the way, only Y/n glancing back every once in a while to make sure Klaus was still with her. 

It was when Y/n sat herself down by the river when she looked up at him and patted the spot beside her, “come sit,” she added, her voice so soft that Klaus instantly obliged. 

“I’d like to get to know you,” she said, looking him in the eyes with the purest of looks. “Tell me, do you paint as well?” 

Klaus looked ahead of him, a smile stretching his lips as he nodded. “Yes,” he whispered, as if maintaining the peace they had surrounding them. “I don’t think I would survive if I ever stopped,” continuing, he looked back at her only to find her beginning a sketch.

But that didn’t stop her from confabulating further with him. They talked until the sun had begun setting and Y/n suggested it best that they parted ways and reached home before it got entirely dark. She’d mirrored Klaus’ sad expression before she’d leaned in to press a kiss to his cheek, which had him profusely blushing. 

“Meet me here again, if you decide that perhaps, I didn’t tire you so much of myself,” she’d laughed, allowing Klaus to pull her up from the ground and telling him that he should come if he wanted to see the sketch so badly, earning a laugh from him. 

Since that day, they’d met up several other times to share long walks and steal sweet kisses from eachother. They had officially been meeting up for a fortnight when they shared a bed, his skin on hers without any barrier as they relished in eachother’s warmth erotically enough to make them lose their breaths.

Their meetups had admittedly been growing more and more frequent until that night, and from then on, they found themselves meeting everyday, doing everything and nothing away from all prying eyes. 

But the prying eyes were slowly turning into suspicious gazes as the news about Vampires spread in the town and Klaus was growing more and more tense that they were going to take Y/n away from him and stake her, bringing anxiety into their relationship but she always managed to make him forget about his worries every time he met with her, which now happened after longer time periods because of the dark fate looming over them like dark clouds. 

Long gone were the days spent down by the river, hidden in long grass or camouflaged among wildflowers. Now they met up under the blindness of the night sky, moonlight directing to them their paths to each other and Klaus would end up sobbing in her neck almost every single time while she mumbled sweet nothings into his ear, telling him that she’d forever stay with him in the sketchbooks he had filled up to the brims with her portraits.

On their last night together, she’d told him that she’d always be watching over him from the same dark sky that they were laying under and usher to him her stories through the winds. She’d kissed on every inch of his body, every muscle that flexed under her touch and every spot on his face, letting him kiss her lips until neither of them could breath and their mouths hurt. Until she’d come undone under him and he’d fallen on top of her with the faintest tears brimming on the rims of his eyes. 

“I love you, Niklaus Mikaelson. I always have, and I always will,” she whispered and pressed her mouth against his to punctuate her promise. She couldn’t understand why she was so hurt – this was just an affair, something that couldn’t last forever because she was a vampire and her lover was a human.

She should’ve seen their paths diverging a long time ago, and yet, another tear slipped past her eyes and into her ear.

“Always and forever?” Klaus questioned her, his tears mixing with hers as he rested his forehead on hers. And when she nodded with the saddest and littlest smile on her mouth, Klaus knew it was time to go.

Y/n had stayed there a little longer,  reminiscing over her life before she sped out of town under everyone’s sniffing noses. 

But on his walk home, Kaus had walked into an alley where the men with lit pitchforks lighting their sight had put their suspecting gazes on him, believing that he was one of the Vampires making one of them shoot him out of the sheer freight that Klaus might’ve drained them of blood if he didn’t act fast enough.

And when the news reached Y/n, she heard her dead heart shatter into so many pieces that she just decided to let them lay instead of picking them up piece by piece to put together an ugly heart that had its love taken from it. 

[mvltisstuff]

cardigan - e.d

summary: when meeting eddie’s family, things don’t go over as well as y/n hoped; that doesn’t change all of the things he loves about her.

eddie diaz x reader

i have state testing and finals coming up so i will be editing this as soon as i can, but i wanted to get it up anyway :)) also i love spanish so this was so fun to write, hopefully it was accurate!

y/n was sitting in the passengers seat of eddie’s shiny car, with christopher in the back. one of eddie’s hands was on the wheel, the other was laying on her thigh. his deep, black sunglasses were shielding his eyes from the bright morning sun. looking back at chris, he had a shining smile on his face with a game in his lap that he had convinced eddie to let him bring.

the group had been down in el paso, visiting the family as they were having a get together. eddie figured it was the perfect time to introduce y/n to the people who grew up with him. obviously, it could go either way, but eddie absolutely admired her and couldn’t see how they wouldn’t either.

y/n’s knee had been bouncing up and down through the slit of her floral dress. it was black with magenta flowers, and her hair had a few casual pieces in the front hanging out. that was one of the things eddie loves about her. she can wear a nice old dress and have her hair blowing in the wind and look radiant. despite the worry free look on her face, the body language gave it away to eddie.

“you nervous?” he asks, looking over at her when stopping. she peeks back over to him.

“a little, honestly. i’m excited, though. i’m looking forward to meeting your tía,” she says, coming up with a response. “i mean, i would get nervous meeting anyone’s family.”

“they’re going to love you, and my abuela has been talking about you non-stop and she doesn’t even know you yet,” eddie tells her, trying to calm her nerves. y/n laughs and thinks about all the stories she’s been told about his family. she feels a little better in the moment, but still anxious for the moment when her character becomes involved.

they drive up to the small texas house, and eddie’s abuela was waiting by the door. “pepa! ¡están aquí!”

eddie and y/n open their doors, and y/n goes to help chris out while eddie greets his family. “hola, abuela,” eddie says, pulling her in for an embrace. his aunt had arrived before him, and she ran out besides his abuela.

“¡Ay, edmundo!” his tía announces. “we’ve been waiting all day for you three,” she says, pointing to y/n walking up patiently with christopher. “hola, mis amores.” she plants sweet kisses on christopher’s head before passing him onto his bisabuela. she takes a hold of y/n’s hands, and pulls her into a hug. “you must be y/n!”

she pulls back, taking a look at y/n as eddie watches with a wide grin on his face. he knows they love her already as she can mesh in so well. “¡qué guapa eres, edmundo!”

y/n blushes at his aunts words, and says, “you guys are so lovely, thank you for inviting me!”

“you are welcome any time, y/n!” his abuela says.

“i brought you these flowers,” y/n hands her a bouquet of yellow and orange flowers. “i grew them at my house and picked some out for you.”

“eddie, i love her already.”

walking around the comforting home, christopher leads y/n and eddie through, showing her around and introducing her to various diaz family members. eddie stops her in her tracks and turns her around. “i told you they would love you.”

even though y/n tried to hide it, she was scared to come. eddie had opened up about his relationship with his father and even with his relationship with shannon. he was scared too, worried about how he would react after what happened with shannon. eddie wasn’t sure if he was ready for a relationship, but after meeting y/n and being confronted with her elegance, he was already falling for her. she carried herself around with grave and empathy for everyone she meets. at work, she was the sweetest to her patients and her co-workers. everyone loves her, and eddie more than the rest. watching her play with his son and treat him like any other kid was the best thing he could ask of her, and he didn’t even have to. the second she met him, they were laughing together and she never once thought of him as a burden or something eddie had just been left with. being the most important thing in his life, eddie always makes sure christopher is happy, and watching his happiness grow when she’s around makes his heart soar.

“i’m glad they like me, they seem lovely, eddie.”

“they are, i really lucked out having them. but i will say none of my past relationships have gone that well in the first 10 minutes.”

“i guess i’m just special then, no?” she asks, jokingly while throwing a little grin on her face. eddie lands a quick kiss on her lips before showing her through the rest. when he finally greets his parents, they give y/n respectful smiles, but nothing more.

“i’m y/n, i just wanted to say thank you for having me,” y/n decides to break the silence and tell them.

“it’s no problem, y/n,” his mother, helena, says.

after sitting down for a while outside during the gathering, eddie has a comforting hand across her shoulders. they both had beers and were watching chris play in the distance before their peace was disturbed.

“so, y/n?” his father starts. “what do you do for work? eddie tells us you are at the station as well.”

“i am, im a paramedic,” she informs, raising the corners of her mouth slightly. “i’ve been working there for about a year more than eddie has.”

“and you like it?” he asks, almost interrogating her. she understands though, she would do the same thing if she had children. although, she was also aware of his relationship with eddie, and eddie having to deal with his absence for work sometimes. his father is a respected man, and definitely an important figure. despite these qualities, y/n can’t help but feel intimidated.

“i love it, it’s very rewarding being able to help people in their moment,” around the table, tía pepa and his abuela are looking gently at her, smiling.

“you didn’t think of anything else?”

“papí…” eddie warns.

“edmundo, he’s allowed to ask!” his mother defends back, still having mixed feelings about her.

eddie was confused as they couldn’t have heard bad things about her. internally, y/n was panicking. she had tried so hard to try and make the best impression she could, and this was just a little hill she had to get over. she was hoping to really hit it off with his parents, but it seemed more complicated than she hoped.

his parents had liked her to an extent, but worried her kindness was an act. eddie knew they were thinking this, and he was ready to fight back in defense of his girl. nothing y/n ever did was an act, and every one of her intentions was pure and out of the good of her heart. she seemed like a good person, but not as much as she might come across. she fought for validation from her parents every single day, battling with her siblings for their affection. she always tries her best to grow that kind of relationship with other people, or make sure they know that she will be there for them. eddie and y/n had different childhoods, but they’re so similar in the way they can connect through them. she tries her best to open up about her parents and how she decided to move away to him, but it still gets hard. she tries to portray that in other ways, and showing her love for others is one.

“eddie, it’s alright!” she says, not erasing any smile from her face but not being able to conceal her uncomforted mood. “i, um, decided to move away from where i grew up. so i moved to los angeles and started my training.”

“so, you left your family and went across the country?”

y/n mumbles a bit, not knowing what she should say. she looks at eddie for help, who gives his father a stare in hopes to take the spotlight off her. he knows how overwhelmed it makes her to talk about her family, let alone with people she’s never met before. he gives her hand an encouraging squeeze and brings it up to leave a kiss on her knuckles.

“well, it is a great place for opportunity! i’ve heard many people succeed from moving there.” pepa adds.

“uh, my parents didn’t support my job, but i knew it’s what i wanted.” she says, trying to explain her situation. his parents nod, almost in a disapproving way that brings her back to her parents. the stress becomes a lot to deal with, just from sitting on the back porch of the families house. she blinks rapidly, covering up any tears and being able to beat them away. luckily, no one noticed, but eddie is able to see through it. the noises from everything around her, but especially the silence from eddie’s elders. her knee begins to bounce again and she tries to stop it with her shaking hands, removing them from eddie’s grasp. “hey, can you show me to the bathroom, love?”

“yeah, of course,” eddie stands up and leads her inside, bringing her to the hallway so no one can hear them.

“¡ay, ramón! ¿por qué lo dices?” eddie hears come from the backyard, the familiar voice coming from his loving aunt.

“i’m sorry, y/n,” he starts. “i don’t know why he would say that, i told my abuela-“

“no, eddie, stop. it’s ok, i understand!”

“it’s really not ok, they have no clue what you had going on at home.”

“they’re allowed to ask questions, i cant avoid it forever,” she finishes, her eyes beginning to well up before she wipes them away and shakes her head. “i’m just going to take a minute, i’ll be back out.”

eddie nods, pulling her in and placing his hands around her waist. “i’ll be outside.”

walking back out, eddie throws out his empty beer bottle, and sits back down after grabbing a new one. the tension between him and his parents is thickening by the minute and everyone can feel it. “you can’t even ask if she’s alright?”

“eddie, she just stormed out, what do you expect us to say?” his mother says.

“because you made her uncomfortable!” he shouts, but trying to keep his volume down. “you have no clue what she’s been through or why she left home because she is not going to tell you everything. your immediate disapproval is what reminded her of her own parents. she was so excited to come here and meet you, she spent hours picking those flowers out for you and you spend this time nit-picking her. i’m not going to put her through that, i can’t watch her suffer in the shitty memories of her parents again.”

his parents faces had dropped slightly, regretting their aggressive questions, but still not fully understanding. they didn’t want her to feel bad about herself, but eddie grew up with very passionate parents. they want to keep their children safe and make sure they’re happy.

“i think we’re going to call it a night,” eddie says, standing up to go get his son. “chris! cmon bud. adiòs.”

his aunt and his abuela follow him outside, going to show them out. they didn’t fight it, because there was no fighting eddie. he knew what he wanted and his passion for y/n made the decision to leave the gathering final. he was upset, but he wouldn’t be forever. he knew she needed some time to refocus.

y/n had come out, eddie holding her hand all the way to the car. the light orange glow from the sun was making her skin shine and pointed out her slightly red cheeks.

“y/n! we are so sorry, amor,” his abuela says. “we would love to have you again sometime, you were absolutely a delight.”

“thank you so much, i’d love to see you again sometime!” she says quietly but thankfully before departing to the passengers seat of the car.

before starting the car, eddie leans over and hugs her. she wraps her arms around his neck and breathes slowly. “that could’ve gone worse, right?”

“i don’t know what their problem was tonight, that was so uncalled for.” he says in a whisper so christopher doesn’t ask questions. “but i still love you. that’s never going to change no matter what they say. because their words will never change the way i see you and your beauty,” he pauses, taking a moment to peck her cheeks and forehead. “your kindness,” he adds, “y tu corazón.” he leaves a little wink and smirk at the end.

“it’s ok,” she laughs, and eddie is relieved to see the smile return back to her face. “you know i love you so much, too.”

several days later, still on their trip in el paso, y/n and eddie hear the ring of a doorbell on their rented home. y/n walks out of the door, looking at the massive bouquet of flowers sitting on the front steps in the scalding texan sun. she scoops them up and carries them inside.

it was quite early, christopher was still fast asleep and would be for a while. eddie was yet to be out of bed after y/n left his hold. however, when he heard the door open, he pulled himself out of the shared bed. when he walked into the small kitchen, y/n was examining the flowers with a peaceful expression.

she was reading the tag attached to the pot, which said

“un regalo para ti <3

Lo siento, y/n,

- helena y ramón”

a grin grew on y/n’s face. she was taking in the true effort they’ve put into this. eddie stood behind her, placing his hands on her waist and his chin on her shoulder, reading the note. “i didn’t really know they had that in them,” eddie says.

“that means a lot, though,” she replies. “they didn’t have to do this, i should call and say thank you!”

“we can later, mi vida,” eddie starts, smiling at his girlfriend. “let me go make up for yesterday evening for now.” he says, picking her up and carrying her back to their rented bed.

[the-offside-rule]

Fermín Lopez (FCBarcelona) - Just A Crush

Requested: yes

Warnings: none

Fermín winced slightly as he rubbed his knee, feeling the mild discomfort from a small knock he took during training. Nothing serious, but enough for him to get it checked. He made his way through the training facility, heading toward the physio room, his footsteps echoing in the hallway. When he reached the physio area, he expected to see the usual staff, but instead, there was only one person, someone he didn't recognize. A young woman, clearly not one of the regulars, was sitting behind the counter, engrossed in some paperwork. "Quién eres tú?" Fermín asked, his brow furrowing slightly.

The woman looked up, startled for a moment before offering him a polite smile. "Soy una estudiante de la universidad, estoy haciendo unas prácticas aquí." She explained. Fermín nodded, slightly amused. He sat down and gestured to his knee. "Me he hecho un pequeño golpe entrenando, me puedes echar un vistazo?" She stood up, professional and focused, as she examined his knee carefully. After a few minutes, she applied an ice pack. "No parece grave, solo hielo y reposo. Estarás bien."

"Gracias." He said, watching her with mild curiosity. She returned to her spot, quietly resuming her work. Fermín stood, gave her a nod, and left the room, the encounter simple but pleasant.

Almost every day after that, Fermín found himself passing by the physio room, often catching a glimpse of her. At first, he told himself it was coincidence, but soon enough, it became routine. As he walked by, he’d wave, and she’d wave back, her smile modest but warm. The other players started to notice. "Eh, Fermín, siempre pasas por aquí o qué? La fisio te gusta tanto?" Ferran teased as the others laughed along. Fermín shrugged, not bothered by the comments. "Sólo me cae bien." He said, downplaying it. But even he knew there was something about Y/n’s presence that brightened his day, even if it was just for a second.

One day, Fermín walked his usual route, ready to wave, but as he glanced into the room, she wasn’t there. He frowned, stepping inside and asking one of the staff. "Oye, dónde está la chica, la estudiante?" He asked, concerned by her absence. "Ah, ya terminó su periodo de prácticas. Está preparando sus exámenes ahora." Fermín's heart sank a little. "Y tienes su contacto?" The staff member shook their head. "No podemos dar esa información, lo siento."

He left the room, feeling an odd sense of disappointment. He had enjoyed those small, fleeting moments with Y/n, and now, she was gone, just like that.

A few nights later, Fermín was wandering around the city, trying to clear his head after a long day of training. His steps eventually took him near the University of Barcelona. He hadn't even realized he was walking in that direction, but something drew him there. As he walked past a lively bar, his eyes caught a familiar face. Y/n was standing with a group of friends, all of them dressed up, clearly out for a night of fun. They were laughing and chatting, but when she spotted him, her expression changed, surprised but pleased.

"Fermín!" She stood before him, both unable to really say anything else. "Y/n." They stopped in front of each other, her friends giving them some space as they continued on ahead. "Qué haces aquí?" She asked, tilting her head. "Solo paseando." Fermín replied. "Tú? Fiesta?" He chuckled. "Sí, con unas amigas. Después de todo, ya terminé las prácticas, y ahora solo me quedan los exámenes." Fermín smiled softly. "Te extrañé por la sala de fisio." She laughed, her cheeks flushing slightly. "De verdad?"

"Claro."

Her friends tapped her. "We will head on, you can catch up later." Ber friend said. "Yeah, I'll be right here." She glanced at them, then back at Fermín. "El español no es tu primer idioma?" He asked, confused at how quickly her accent changed to reply to her friends. "No, me mudé aquí cuando era más joven." She explained. Fermín nodded, the pair stood in silence for a little while. "Quieres venir con nosotras? Será divertido." Fermín hesitated, glancing at the time. "Tengo entrenamiento mañana… pero-" He added, giving her a playful smile, "me conformo con tu número."

Y/n smiled, pulling out her phone and handing it to him. "Aquí tienes," she said, watching as he typed in his contact information. "Gracias." Fermín replied, handing it back to her. "Nos vemos pronto, no?" She asked, her tone hopeful. "Claro que sí." He replied, watching as she waved and hurried after her friends, disappearing into the crowd. Fermín stood there for a moment, feeling lighter than he had in days, already looking forward to the next time they'd speak.

[kimyoonmiauthor]

How to Break Elmore Leonard's Ten Rules of Writing

which is mostly secretly hating on women given the bisection of the time period he was writing...

Prologue: Avoid prologues like in Lord of the Rings by JRR Tolkein

Like a dark and stormy night, never open a book with the weather like Sir Edward George Earle Bulwer-Lytton’s Paul Clifford

“Never use a verb other than ‘said’ to carry dialogue” he announced gravely and then added but Virginia Woolf does it in Mrs. Dalloway: “Kreemo,” murmured Mrs. Bletchley, like a sleep-walker.

“Never use an adverb to modify the verb said!” like Emily Bronte “Sit down,” said the young man, gruffly. “He’ll be in soon.”—Emily Bronte, Wuthering Heights.

Keep your exclamation points under control! You are never allowed more than two! Two! Per 100,000- words of prose. Don’t be like poor Ms. Jane Austen in Pride and Prejudice, then: “Oh! Single, my dear, to be sure! A single man of large fortune; four or five thousand a year. What a fine thing for our girls!”

Suddenly all hell broke loose under the admonishment of Elmore Leonard who was very gravely hating on 19th century writers (particularly women) and their predecessors when he said one can’t use suddenly not all hell broke loose. Don’t be like Ms. Jane Austen then? “He was then, he said, on his way to Longbourn on purpose to inquire after her. Mr. Darcy corroborated it with a bow, and was beginning to determine not to fix his eyes on Elizabeth, when they were suddenly arrested by the sight of the stranger, and Elizabeth happening to see the countenance of both as they looked at each other, was all astonishment at the effect of the meeting.”—Jane Austen, Pride and Prejudice uses “Suddenly” 16 times.

He askingeu as whiteu person to not be speakingeu in diarect. “Now she had got a start, and she went on and told me all about the good place. She said all a body would have to do there was to go around all day long with a harp and sing, forever and ever. So I didn’t think much of it. But I never said so. I asked her if she reckoned Tom Sawyer would go there, and she said not by a considerable sight. I was glad about that, because I wanted him and me to be together.” - Mark Twain, Huckleberry Finn

One should not describe the long paragraph on “Thomas Gradgrind, sir. A man of realities. A man of facts and calculations. A man who proceeds upon the principle that two and two are four, and nothing over, and who is not to be talked into allowing for anything over. Thomas Gradgrind, sir—peremptorily Thomas—Thomas Gradgrind. With a rule and a pair of scales, and the multiplication table always in his pocket, sir, ready to weigh and measure any parcel of human nature, and tell you exactly what it comes to. It is a mere question of figures, a case of simple arithmetic. You might hope to get some other nonsensical belief into the head of George Gradgrind, or Augustus Gradgrind, or John Gradgrind, or Joseph Gradgrind (all supposititious, non-existent persons), but into the head of Thomas Gradgrind—no, sir!”—Hard Times by Charles Dickens

As he is hating on 19th century writers, talking about the long winding brook that passed behind Mrs. Lynde’s house that suddenly was disciplined by her very manner would be too much like naturalism, and thus poor Anne Shirley could not talk about the The White Way of Delight in L.M. Montgomery’s Anne of Green Gables.

Oops I skipped this part.

Context

Elmore Leonard lived roughly from the Modernist era to the Post Modernist era which looked at parring back prose, though often to extremes, often blaming probably unfairly the likes of Mark Twain. When he wrote these rules this was in full swing. This is not in the era where women finally got some rep in the writing section of the shelves.

For context, it's more likely women in the 19th century were likely to use adverbs and were more into the naturalist movement. The later Modernist movements, especially as genre solidified and took shape (as argued by Lucy Worsley), there was a huge backlash against the Naturalist movements which encompassed, you guessed it, a large swath of women and more "look to the future" types. As men won the discourse a bit on story, story structure and "proper story" (cue my eyeroll here), a lot of the rules written were specifically to lock out earlier sets of "backwards ways of writing" and also targeting women a lot. So there were a lot, lot, of treaties up through the 2000's on "precision, cut the fat, no adverbs" which honestly, if you know the range of literature is pretty much aimed squarely on hating how women were taught to write.

BTW, it's a lie, though, that Mark Twain was the King of Precision as many tried to argue about him and retcon into his history, which the Mark Twain Foundation often has to fight with false quotes attributed to him. While we're talking about men, there were naturalists that survived, like Tolkien who spends a fair amount of time on English countryside descriptions (Yes, descriptions, not detail), and the laughable Pre-Raphaelites, whom even LM Montgomery took a few swings at, though at the same time she admired them.

The rule is if it works for your story, helps build your tone and theme, emotion, etc do it. That's it. The quotes and references in context, you can see WHY they did as they did, and it's not a great master that can only do it, which is the usual retort. Nope. You can do it too, you just have to know why you're doing it and effectively communicate that to the reader. Though I do wish the patience of a Victorian reader sometimes as a reader and also with readers...

[ateezlibrary]

what it takes. (chapter 1/?)

summary: following your mother's passing, the king scrambles to retain power in the kingdom of goseon by ensuring that you are arranged a suitor and wed within a week's time. little does he know, your heart belongs to another that is considered unworthy. how will you navigate a broken heart, an immense loss, and a newfound … friendship, is it?

members: wooyoungxreade, with mentions of past yunhoxreader

word count: 2,030

genre: ateez royalty/fantasy au, angst, unrequited love, forbidden love, unexpected enemies to lovers

notes: also cross-posted on ao3 (babysnooby). kicking off with the prologue of a chaptered fic! will be more wooyoung-centric as we go, but an angsty yunho moment. :-(

prologue.

“Your Highness, which of the fabrics are you most drawn to?”

“Hm—?” You raise your nose from the book nestled between your fingertips, pages tattered and turned at the edges. Handmaidens bustled around you, hurriedly scurrying from one end of the grand hall to the next as they joined the palace staff in arranging the decorations for the next day.

Your eyes gloss over the decadent draping that slides down slick marble walls, the florals being hauled in bucket after bucket to crawl the pillars alongside vines. It was a beautiful sight, more than you could have ever dreamed for your wedding to be.

“Your Highness?” the handmaiden repeats gingerly, nudging both fabrics in her hands towards you in emphasis.

You look between the soft sage and the ivory, barely registering the colors before gesturing to her left hand.

“The ivory,” you reply simply, setting aside your book with a sigh before feigning a smile. “I think it would look lovely in the afternoon sun.”

As she returns to her duties, you glide across the polished marble floors to the far end of the hall where late afternoon sun billowed through grand windows. Lavender and gold trail behind you, the fabrics coming to a halt far beyond your ankles in a long trail of silk. In the gardens below, you chuckle at the young stable boys running through hedge mazes with gleeful threats of catching one another.

A handmaiden runs after them, losing her own footing in the maze and tumbling into a nearby shrub. The sight makes you burst into a fit of laughter, the first that’s left you since you’d found out about … well, about the arrangement.

* * *

“You asked to see me, Father?” you call as you enter the throne room, royal guards posted at each end of its perimeter.

The elder man sits in his gilded throne, fingers clasped around the velvet and oak arms as he peers down at you. An equally opulent crown sits atop his head, the gems embedded in the center nearly blinding you in the morning sun as you shuffle down the rugs at the center of the room.

“Hello, my dear,” he chirps back, though there is a noticeable weariness in his voice that slows your pace. “Thank you for joining me.” You come to a stop at his throne’s feet, a customary curtsy following soon after. You look at him with bright eyes, failing to understand why his mirror yours with an immense dread.

“What’s wrong?” you ask immediately, wasting no time in calling upon his iffy demeanor.

“I—Why must something be wrong for me to call you?” he stammers, tripping over his words.

“Because you never summon me to the throne room unless someone is dead. Or dying,” you add, crossing arms over your chest with an arched brow.

“I—” The king pauses, choosing his next words carefully as his voice lowers. His gaze shifts to the men stationed around the room, a silent order for them to leave you two in privacy as they shut the grand oak doors behind them.

“My dear, I have a grave favor to ask of you.” You nod once, ignoring the quickening of your heart in anticipation.

“Do you love this kingdom?”

“Of course I do,” you answer nearly instantly, furrowing your brows in confusion.

“And you understand that with loving a kingdom comes a great sense of responsibility towards your kingdom.”

“Of course I do,” you repeat.

“I am not getting younger,” your father begins, sinking into the velvet of his chair with a weary sigh. “And after your mother’s death, I fear for this kingdom’s lack of an heir.”

You glower but remain silent. The Kingdom of Goseon held a longstanding patriarchal tradition and refused you a claim to the monarchy without a rightful husband. You fought tooth and nail against the custom, even before your mother’s passing, to no avail. It took years of accepting the defeat and a great deal of mental preparation, yet the expectation still hit you like deadweight.

“I wish to have you wed in a week’s time.”

“A week?” you scoff, anger pricking beneath your skin. “I’ve spent longer time deciding what to wear to balls than I am to choose a husband.”

“No matter,” he replies coolly. “That’s why I’ve taken the liberty alongside the royal council to choose a suitor for you.”

“You must be joking.” Your father was a stickler for tradition, but allowed you even the most limited freedom.

At least, until now.

“This is a duty to your country,” the king orders. “Goseon requires a strong lineage to advance into the next century with the type of power we have in these lands. I cannot wait longer.”

“Is that all I am to you?” Your voice is barely a whisper, yet it still cracks as you look up to your father with tear-brimmed eyes. “A vessel to bear your next heir?”

“I cannot fight tradition. And I cannot let our people suffer.”

“Yet, you can let me suffer.” The king calls your name with a sigh before you cut him off, turning away from him and heading for the doors at the far end.

“I will do what it takes for our people. Not for you, but for our people.” * * * Seven hours.

From the pocket watch that dangled off of the string of pearls nestled at your waist, you could tell it had been seven hours since the life-altering conversation with your father. With your king.

Seven hours since you had escaped to the neighboring woods at the edge of the palace grounds, your horse neatly tied to a tall pine tree as your sobs dissolved into the forest air. You watched as the sun slowly crept towards the lands in the west, arms wrapped tightly around yourself as you sobbed and sinked further into the soil.

“My love.”

You gasp at the familiar voice, grappling with the fabrics settled around you as you ran into your lover’s arms. His familiar scent of cypress and sandalwood envelop you as you sob into his chest, his grip tightening around your waist.

“You received my note,” you sob in between gasps of air. His hand creeps to the small of your back, rubbing in soft, gentle circles. “Yunho, I am so sorry.”

You pull away just enough to meet his gaze. Though his features were unusually rigid, you could see the heartbreak in his eyes as he looked down at you in silence. The tailored fabrics of his noble robes whipped behind him in the wind, intertwining ever-so-often with the lavender of your gowns.

“You did absolutely nothing wrong,” he replies softly, the weight of defeat injecting his tone. “You are doing what this kingdom needs. You are going to be a remarkable queen.”

“But who am I, if not with you?” you sob, burying your face into his chest once more.

His warmth continued to cloak you as you sunk back onto the earth, his long legs folding as he found a seat beside you. For just over a year, you’d found solace in Yunho. He was one of your mother’s closest royal guards, young but remarkable enough to protect the kingdom’s most precious jewel. After her passing, Yunho’s duties had transitioned from the queen to safeguarding the princess.

Days turned to weeks, weeks turned to months, months turned to nearly a year. What began as customary oversight of your every move turned into a confidante for escapades to the kitchen at night, a secret-keeper for your trips to the neighboring woods and bubbling brooks. Yunho was strict, unwavering in his duties to the crown and his sworn oath to protect you.

All it took was one night of too much mulled wine and confinement to your chambers after a heated argument with your father for your confessions to Yunho to spill over. Ever the gentleman, he still ensured you made it to bed safely and had plenty of water and dried fruit the next morning to nurse your headache. But, something shifted that day.

Yunho became more forward in his time with you. The occasional compliment, the sheepish glances when he was at attention in the throne room beside your father for court sessions.

“Have you ever been in love?” he’d asked one day, his question out of genuine curiosity.

“I don’t think so,” you’d confessed, mulling over the question intently. “You may be the closest thing I’ve ever had to someone I truly love that isn’t my family.”

“But you have so many friends, so many allies,” Yunho had remarked, pointing out your royal crowd from neighboring kingdoms and the like.

“They are wonderful,” you’d remarked. “But they are not here when I am crying myself to sleep. They are not here when I am running through these forests, free to breathe in fresh air and feel the earth between my toes. They are not here to—” You’d stopped yourself, your cheeks flushed before continuing with your suggestion.

“To…?” Yunho had teased, closing in on you against the bark of a towering cypress tree with a gentle laugh. Your cheeks grew rosier, your gaze meeting the ground before he lifted your chin with a finger. “Tell me, princess.”

And now, in the same forest he’d held you and kissed you and danced with you, he was nursing your heartbreak. For you, for him.

“I am so sorry,” you wail, the sound carrying through the forest as the sun continued to creep below the earth. Yunho sighed, his hands unmoving from around your waist as he pressed a gentle kiss to your hair.

“It’s not your fault I was not born noble enough,” he scolds softly, a painful smile gracing his lips as he brushes a thumb across your cheeks to wipe the tears that cascaded down your face. “Else, these may have been tears of joy.”

“I am so sorry,” you whisper, unsure of what else to say to convey the absolute gut-wrenching pain that settled in your core. You look up at Yunho, his own eyes glittering with tears that refused to fall. He gives you another smile that sends you into another fit of sobbing, knowing that he was struggling to stay strong to console you.

“I wish it could have been you.”

“Hey, look at me,” he chides, pressing a palm to your cheek. “It will always be you. In this lifetime and the next. No matter who is beside you when you ascend that throne. I am sworn to protect you. Love just happened to become a part of the deal that I was unaware of.”

You shake your head silently, blinking through the tears settled at your waterline.

“I am sure that whoever is expected to be our next king, will be an incredible gentleman that will make you feel like the luckiest woman in the world. Only, he won’t have to hide it from the world.” Yunho presses a despondent kiss to your lips, cradling your face between his hands.

The warmth that thrums against your veins pushes you further into his embrace. You wrap your arms around the neck of the man you love, the man that saved you from solitude. His hands tighten at your waist, fabric cinched between his fingertips as he brings you closer to him. It’s not a moment later that he pulls himself away, sorrow dripping from his words as he looks down at your obvious dejection.

“We should return.”

* * *

“Wilt thou love him, comfort him, honor and keep him, in sickness and in health; and, forsaking all other, keep thee only unto him, so long as ye both shall live?”

Your eyes bore into Yunho’s beside the wedding party seated at the front of the attendees. He was dressed in emerald and gold, the kingdom’s colors, in the finest royal guard garb. His dark hair swept just above his brow, his eyes darkened as they met yours in utter defeat.

You barely register any of the guests and the man standing beside you at the front of the hall.

Looking at Yunho, you utter a final, “I will.”

[oddthumbswetsleeves]

I Don't Celebrate It

(From my AO3 - Uncommonly_Soya)

The day of the departed was arguably the biggest and most widely observed holiday in Ninjago. Cole remembered the huge celebrations that happened in his town every year. Giant parties with food, music, art, and games. When he was young his mom would tell him stories about her parents and his dad would eventually relent to his begging and join in. It was always such a joyous day. His mom always told him that the holiday was a reminder to celebrate the lives that passed loved ones lived, and to make the most of your own.

When Cole was 7, he made a lantern all by himself for the first time.

When Cole was 10, he helped his mom make a shepherd’s pie for the community cookout for the first time.

When Cole was 12, he got to light a firework for the first time.

When Cole was 13, he didn’t celebrate the day of the departed for the first time.

His dad didn’t open the curtains that morning. He spent the day reading in the living room, on the opposite side of the room from the piano. Cole couldn’t find the courage to leave the house and face the spirit of the day alone. People came to the door, but Cole only watched from the top of the stairs his dad send them away. He refused to take his son out and was adamant that he never liked the holiday.

“I only ever celebrated to begrudge your mother. I have never understood the whole ‘whoopee’ around it.”

Cole didn’t ask him to take part in any festivities when he was 14.

When Cole was 16, he celebrated the day of the departed alone for the first time.

He bought a cupcake from a store the day before and took a tealight and matchbox from the kitchen cupboard. He had been too scared to try take a photo of his mom from any wall or shelf in case his dad noticed. Instead, he drew a portrait of her. He wasn’t super happy with how it looked, but his mom loved anything he drew, so she probably wouldn’t have minded if her eyes were different sizes.

When Cole was 17, he celebrated on the top of his mom’s favourite mountain. He brought a pudding cup, which wouldn’t be damaged during the climb, and the supplies make a lantern for the first time in five years. No one else was climbing that night due to the celebrations, so there would be no way to know if he cried that night.

When Cole was 18, he met someone who had never celebrated the day of the departed for the first time.

Jay left early that morning to spend the whole day with his parents and wasn’t expected back until dinner the next day (for which he had promised to bring plenty of leftovers).

Kai and Nya left after breakfast, saying they’d be back for lunch after spending the night with their village.

Wu had left to visit his father’s grave and, of course, had not given a clear timeframe for his return.

Zane was sitting at the dining room table with an empty plate. Completely still. Cole had always found Zane to be a weird guy. There was always something a bit off about him, but this was strange, even for him. Cole stood in the doorway for a few second before clearing his throat. Zane didn’t react.

“I, uh…” Cole tried to find something to say. “I didn’t think anyone would still be here.”

Zane picked up the plate and stood up.

“You should leave soon if you want to make it home in time for the lighting ceremonies.” Zane’s voice was low. He walked past him to the kitchen, avoiding eye contact. Cole felt his stomach grow heavier, but he had a few years of excuses behind him to explain his non-observance of the holiday.

“I don’t usually go home to celebrate, my dad doesn’t really like the whole fanfare of it.” He leant against the counter beside the sink where Zane was scrubbing his one dish. “He’s kind of a bummer during holidays.” Zane continued scrubbing.

Cole suddenly regretted planting himself so close to his teammate.

Zane eventually rinsed the plate and set it on the drying rack. Cole clears his throat again.

“So, are you going to any parties?” he joked before remembering that it would probably go over his friend’s head.

“No, I have never celebrated the day of the departed.” Zane dried his hands and hung the towel on the cupboard handle. Cole’s jaw slacked.

“You - you’ve never celebrated?” Zane shook his head.

“I learned about the holiday last year, but I have no one to remember, or light a lantern for.”

Cole felt frozen. He had never met someone who had never even lit a lantern before.

“No one? What about your grandparents?”

“I don’t remember them. For all I know they could be alive and well.”

“Oh, right.” Cole felt his face flush. “You lost all your memories.” Zane nodded mutely.

“I guess it’s just a quiet night in for us then.” The two made eye contact. “Want me to teach you that combo that makes Jay really mad?” Zane smiled softly.

“I’d like that.”

The credits rolled on the movie the boys had put on once they got tired of the game. “I’ve gotten used to having three opponents” Cole had remarked, “It’s kinda boring with only the two of us.” Zane had seemed distracted the whole movie, which Cole had probably only noticed because he was too. Zane turned to face him.

“Have you ever made a lantern?” he asked.

“A couple of times. My mom taught me.”

“You do not speak much of her.” Cole rubbed his neck awkwardly.

“Yeah, she died a few years ago. She used to celebrate today like it was the most important day of the year.”

“Do you not celebrate her life?”

“I usually do something small. Light a candle, eat something unhealthy.” Cole stood up to put the DVD back in its case. Just before he could ask about watching something else, Zane spoke again.

“Could you show me how to make one?” Cole turned to face him.

“What?”

“A lantern. I’ve never been shown how to make them.”

“Uh…” Cole looked away for a moment. “I guess, if we have the right stuff here.”

The two searched through the supply closets and kitchen cupboards for the paper, markers, glue, and other bits. Cole felt the heaviness in his chest ease a bit as the pair moved around the monastery. They laid all of the supplies on the floor in front of the tv and Cole put on a comedy he’d seen a few times for background noise. Zane knelt down and stared at him expectantly. He sat on the opposite side of the supplies.

“First, we have to cut the paper long enough to make a box” he slid the scissors easily through the roll of red paper. He folded the paper in half twice, then unfolded it. Zane easily copied him.

“You have to write on it before you glue it, cause it’s too hard once it’s standing up.” Cole uncapped a marker.

“What do you write?” Zane reached for a marker.

“Well, there’s no rules about it. Some people write messages,” he drew a boarder on one of the panels, “some write poems, others just draw pictures.” He started slowly writing, focused on making the letters elegant and decorative. Zane made no such move. “Y’know, the lantern doesn’t have to be for a family member, it can be for anyone.” Zane looked at him again.

“Can I make it for your mother?”

Cole suddenly stopped writing, eyes shooting up to look at his teammate. “What?”

“I don’t know anyone who is departed, and you made it seem as though your father won’t be making her a lantern.” Zane twisted the marker in his hands, “Would it be inappropriate for me to make one for her?”

“Um…” Cole swallowed, “I guess you can. I’ve just never heard of anyone making a lantern for a stranger. Though, I’ve also never met anyone who’s never lit a lantern before today either.” He shrugged and continued writing.

Cole and Zane sat on the monastery roof. Cole let his legs dangle off the edge, breathing in the cool night air. He turned to look at Zane, who appeared as peaceful as ever.

“Ready to light them?” He shook the matchbox. Zane nodded. Cole lit a match and held it under the lanterns wick. A soft red glow lit up their faces as Zane copied him. Cole recognised some of the writing on Zane's lantern as a poem he had read a couple years ago, he assumed the rest was ones he didn’t know. The pair stood holding the lanterns in front of them. As they raised them Cole glanced over at his friend, whose eyes were fixed on his lantern. As they turned in the air Cole could have sworn he saw his name written on one side of Zane’s one.

The two stood silently as the lanterns drifted away in the slight breeze. There was a feint red glow coming from where Cole was pretty sure was Ninjago City. The night was almost perfect. He chuckled.

“Kinda wish I had gotten a cake now.” Zane looked thoughtful.

“We have the ingredients for hot chocolate. I could make some.”

Cole laughed.

“The day of the departed is never complete without something sweet and unhealthy.”

When Cole was 17, he celebrated the day of the departed alone for the last time.

[morri-draws]

Gwaine x Reader - 'The Threads That Bind Us' - Chapter 10

Story Summary:

You, a humble dressmaker from Camelot’s lower town, are commissioned to make a new gown for Queen Guinevere. Impressed by your skills, she offers you the position of Royal Clothier. During your time in the castle, you catch the eye of one of the knights of King Arthur’s inner circle, Sir Gwaine. What starts as a sweet courtship is turned upside down when misfortune strikes and you must deal with the aftermath, as well as an unwelcome visit from Gwaine’s unpleasant sister.

Rating: Mature

Tags: Female Reader/Gwaine, set between seasons 4 and 5, fluff, angst, hurt/comfort

Words: 2,202

Read Chapter 1 | Read Chapter 2 | Read Chapter 3

Read Chapter 4 | Read Chapter 5 | Read Chapter 6

Read Chapter 7 | Read Chapter 8 | Read Chapter 9

Read on Ao3

For the next four days, you spend the daytime sewing, and your nights in Gwen’s company. While her companionship makes your anxieties easier to bear, you remain eager for the king and his knights to return.

After your fifth dinner with Gwen, you do some tidying back at your chambers before preparing for bed. You blow out all candles but one, which you take up to your bedchamber, where you strip down to just your shift and stockings. In front of the basin mirror, you begin to unpin your haircap when you’re startled by a hard knock at your chamber door. Hastily re-pinning your cap and pulling on a robe, you take up the candle and stride across your chambers as the visitor knocks again, more forcefully. You open the door to find Gwen.

“They’re back,” She says. “Gwaine is injured,”

Your stomach drops.

“Gaius is seeing to him now,” Gwen continues. “I thought you’d want to know,”

Placing the candle down on the nearest surface, you blow out the flame and follow Gwen.

You arrive at the physician’s chambers. Gwen doesn’t bother to knock before heading inside, where she is met by the king. She embraces him before pulling back to speak.

“What happened?” She asks, peering behind her husband.

You follow her gaze to find Gwaine lying in a bed, his eyes closed and chest bare.

“He was stabbed through his side,” The king answers gravely.

You rush to the bedside, looking over your dear knight. His skin is sickly pale and a nasty, bloody wound oozes from the left side of his lower abdomen. He is unconscious, but his eyelids flutter, his face contorted in a pained frown.

“Can you save him, Gaius?” Gwen asks as she joins you at your side.

You glance up to find the old physician standing behind his workbench.

“I don’t like to make any promises until I am absolutely certain,” He says. “But I will do everything in my power to help Sir Gwaine,”

Your chest aches at the answer, which wasn’t one you wanted to hear. The physician doesn’t yet know if he can save the life of the man who has become so dear to you. You spot a nearby chair and drag it beside the bed, sitting down and taking Gwaine’s hand in yours.

“Where’s Merlin?” Gwen asks from beside you.

“The other knights also sustained some injuries, though much less serious than Gwaine’s,” The king answers. “Merlin is seeing to them in their quarters so Gaius has room to work in here,”

You clear your throat. “Is there anything I can do?”

Gaius gives you a sympathetic look, passing you a bowl of water and a cloth.

“You can clean his wound in preparation for me to apply a salve,” He says. “We need to start fighting off infection as soon as possible,”

You dip the cloth into the water and begin to dab away the blood surrounding the injury, revealing inflamed skin underneath. You clench your teeth as you dab at the wound, the exposed, meaty flesh making your stomach squirm.

“We’ll leave you two to tend to him,” The king says. “Send for me immediately if there is any change,”

“I will, sire,” Gaius replies.

Gwen gives your shoulder a comforting squeeze before she turns to leave with the king.

Gaius prepares some kind of concoction at his workbench while you continue cleaning the wound, refolding the cloth each time it becomes soiled to ready a clean section. After a time, Gaius turns your way and approaches the bed, a small metal dish in one hand. He pulls up a chair beside the opposite side of the bed.

“Gwaine may react when I apply this salve. I need you to hold him still while I apply it, otherwise he may aggravate the wound further,” He says.

You nod to show that you understand and Gaius dips his index and middle finger into the bowl, revealing a green coloured paste. He looks up at you to confirm that you are ready and you pull your chair as close as possible to the bed. You place your forearm over Gwaine’s chest, just resting it there for now, but poised to apply pressure if the need arises.

“I’m ready,”

Gaius applies the paste to the wound, his fingertips disappearing into the hole in Gwaine’s side. The knight groans and begins to writhe, so you press against his chest firmly, keeping his torso horizontal. Gaius withdraws and wipes his now bloody fingers on a cloth, before scooping up more of the salve. He applies it to the wound again, but doesn’t delve as deep this time, focusing mainly around the surface. Gwaine gives some resistance, but you don’t need to use as much force against him this time. Gaius wipes his fingers again before standing, returning the bowl to the workbench and retrieving a roll of bandage.

“We need to wrap the wound and give the salve some time to take effect,” He says as he returns to his seat. “I’ll need you to help me lift him,”

You follow Gaius’ lead, slipping a hand under Gwaine’s left shoulder as Gaius does the right, easing the unconscious knight into a sitting position.

“Now, if you can hold him up while I bandage him?” Gaius says.

You nod and, keeping your hand behind Gwaine’s shoulder, get off your chair and sit on the edge of the bed, so you can use your body, rather than just your arm, to hold Gwaine upright. Gaius begins applying the bandage, wrapping the cloth around the knight’s torso, encircling it a few times before tying the bandage ends and helping you to lower Gwaine down again.

Gaius stands and reaches for the bowl beside you, now filled with bloody water and the stained cloth. You pass it to him, and he takes it away to the worktable, before bringing you a fresh bowl of water and a clean cloth.

“Try to bring down his fever. I’m going to check how Merlin’s getting on with the other knights,”

He picks up a round, leather bag, slinging the strap over his shoulder before heading for the door. He unlatches it and turns back to you.

“You’ve done well,” He says, before leaving the room.

You dip the new cloth into the water and wring it out, folding it to a more manageable size to dab at Gwaine’s brow, which is beaded with sweat. Even though you don’t touch him directly while you apply the cool cloth, you can feel the heat radiating from him. You apply and refresh the cloth several times, working your way down his face and his neck. His breathing calms during your time sitting with him, and once you feel his brow again and are satisfied that there is an improvement, you place the bowl of water down and take Gwaine’s hand in yours once more.

“Gwaine… it’s me, (Y/N),” You say in a low tone. “I don’t know if you can hear me, but just in case you can: you can get through this. You just have to fight a bit longer. I know you can do it,” You bring his hand up to your mouth, pressing a kiss against the base of his fingers. “There’s so much I need to say to you. Please get better,” Your voice cracks and you squeeze your eyes shut, forcing tears down your cheeks.

You sit with him for some time until Gaius returns with Merlin.

“How is he?” Merlin rushes to his friend, placing the back of his hand against Gwaine’s forehead.

“His fever has improved some, and his breathing has calmed,”

“That’ll be the salve starting to take effect,” Gaius says as he walks across the room toward his patient. “It helps to dull the pain as well as fight infection,”

“Is there hope for him?” You ask, voice cracking.

Merlin comes to your side, places a hand on your shoulder as he looks into your eyes. “There is always hope,”

You reach up your own hand and place it over Merlin’s, thankful that there is someone else who cares much for Gwaine looking after him.

“You should get some rest yourself,” Gaius says. “You look exhausted,”

You glance at Gwaine, reluctant to leave him.

“He will be well taken care of here,” Gaius assures you.

“Of course,” You stand and head for the door, Merlin following behind to show you out.

“Merlin,” You stop in the doorway. “Please let me know if… when… he wakes up, won’t you? No matter the hour?”

Merlin nods. “I will,”

~

You awaken late the next morning to a pang of hunger. After washing your face and getting dressed, you make a quick breakfast before making your way to the physician’s chambers. When you arrive outside the door, you overhear raised voices from within.

“It isn’t right for him to still be suffering like this,” Merlin says.

“We must first exhaust all other courses of action,” Gaius replies.

“But I could end his pain now,”

“And how would I explain such a swift recovery to Arthur?”

“I’m sure you’ll think of something,”

There is a moment of silence before Gaius speaks again.

“I need to visit the apothecary. Don’t do anything while I’m away,”

You panic as footsteps approach, and you hastily knock on the door. It swings open no more than two seconds later, revealing Gaius.

“(Y/N), do come in,” He says, stepping aside to allow you to pass, before heading out.

You enter the chamber to see Merlin sitting beside the bed, arms crossed and brow creased in frustration.

“Are you alright?” You ask as you approach.

Merlin sighs. “Just had a disagreement with Gaius, that’s all,”

His eyes remain fixed on Gwaine’s unconscious face. You step closer, looking over the knight, before sitting in the empty chair beside the bed, feeling his forehead with the back of your hand.

“He’s very hot again,” You remark.

“He got worse overnight,” Merlin’s voice rises. “Gaius doesn’t–” He pauses, as if deciding what to say. “I know of an alternative treatment, but Gaius doesn’t even want me to try,”

“Why not? Does he not think it will work?”

“No, I suppose it’s just… different to his way of doing things,”

“Is it some kind of new treatment?” You ask.

“Something like that,”

You look back at Gwaine. His eyes flick beneath his eyelids, his brow knitting together as strained groans escape him.

“Is there a chance it could go wrong?” You ask.

Merlin looks up at you for the first time since you arrived. “No. I know it will work,”

You feel Gwaine’s forehead again; a pointless gesture since it of course feels exactly as it did a minute ago. His brow glistens with sweat, locks of damp hair sticking to his skin.

“He looks terrible,”

You eye the bandage around his abdomen. It’s stained red where his wound lies underneath, and the skin around it is pink and inflamed.

“Do it,” You say.

“What?” Merlin replies.

“Your alternative method. You should do it,” You look Merlin in the eye, to show him that you’re serious.

The young man’s expression changes from agitated to determined.

“Yes,” He stands. “I need,” He begins to pace, thumb against his chin in thought. “To prepare some ingredients. While I do that, you can… collect some fresh water from the well,”

He retrieves an empty bucket from nearby and thrusts it into your hands. You stand, holding the bucket, and give Merlin an encouraging smile.

“See you soon,”

~

Filling the bucket with as much water as you’ll be able to carry, you return to the castle at a slow pace, eventually making it back to the physician’s chambers, when you hear raised voices again, this time even louder than the last.

“– done it behind my back!” You hear Gaius shout.

“I couldn’t just sit by and watch my friend die!” Merlin responds. “I only got rid of the infection. Now you can focus just on healing the wound,”

There’s a pause before Gaius speaks again. “Where is (Y/N)?”

You knock on the door and pick up the bucket. Gaius answers shortly after.

“I got some water,” You smile.

“Ah, thank you, (Y/N), I didn’t realise we needed any,”

He reaches forward and takes the bucket from you, gesturing for you to come inside. You return to the seat beside Gwaine and look him over. His expression is much more peaceful and his face is free of sweat. Moving your gaze down to his abdomen, you notice the previously inflamed skin has returned to its normal colouring.

“He’s looking better,” You glance at Merlin with a smile.

“He won’t be returning to his knightly duties any time soon, but he will recover,” Gaius says, approaching the bed. “Merlin and I will redress the wound. In the meantime, (Y/N), you should return to your own duties. We will let you know when our patient awakens,”

“Alright,” You stand and smile at the physician. “Thank you for looking after him,” You turn to Merlin. “And remember, you can let me know –”

“No matter the hour,” Merlin finishes with a grin.

[randomreadingtimewithtsuki]

Touya x childhood! reader Part 2!

If you wish, please come check part 1 here!

And Part 3 here!

Tsuki's note 1 : reminder that I do not read the manga. Also not proof read.

Tsuki's note 2 : idk how long this will be. Let's see. I also feel like part 2 came out better lol sorry.

TW: to graves I guess? Mention of death and abuse.

-----------------------------------------

Not so long after the fire, after trying to somehow reach out to Touya, you came to know - he was gone.

You cried and screamed. It couldn't be. He couldn't be gone!!

You felt awfully guilty instantly, your kind raced to what you could have done to help him. You didn't took long to return to your routine - or try to - everything reminded you of your dear friend.

The school held a little event out of respect for Touya and you made sure to be there.

On the way out, you saw endeavor. The man was fuming. He came towards you, yelling and pointing fingers at you, accusing for not helping Touya enough. As if, he was your responsibility.

The only thing you could do was flinch, cry and feel guilty. The feeling of guilt swallowed you whole. The hero only stopped yelling at you when one of his employees teared him away from your sights.

After this you never went back to the todoroki's house. To your surprise Fuyumi reached out to you. She sent you message asking if you were OK.

You both cried through the phone. You told her how sorry you were and how much you wanted to say a proper goodbye to him.

You fell asleep with the phone in your hands. You woke up, face swollen and head throbbing. Your parents demanded you to go school.

You dragged yourself there, again, everything, every place made you swear you could hear Touya calling you, that you could hear his foot tapping out of anxiety.

A few days went by and you were chatting with Fuyumi almost daily. You cling to each other over the grief and eventually you developed a friendship.

It took you months to be able to go out to have fun outside and who dragged you out was Fuyumi. She asked you to go shopping with her.

That day she asked why you haven't been back to visit the todoroki's, you didn't felt like telling her what truly happened. So you just said it's because it reminds you too much of him and you felt awkward going there.

She was visibly upset, which made you crack a joke. It was awkward and completely out of place, but that wa enough to make her laugh.

But you sighed:

" I have to admit. I wish I could pay him my respects."

It was then she told you about Touya's grave - where it was and that could go there, after all, her dad have never been there.

You smiled at her offer, a genuine smile and you thanked her. But now it was time to find some ice cream before she had to go home.

Surprisingly, endeavor was never mad at you for hanging out with Fuyumi. You soon came to learn he didn't care. So your little routine of hanging out with her increased little by little.

With the information of Touya's grave you also decided to finally see him and give a proper goodbye. But upon arriving there, you couldn't say anything. All of the words you had so carefully picked were stuck on your throat. So you just cried there for a long time - you couldn't even tell for how long.

Years passed by, you mad knew friends, got into a good high school and grew into a habit of going to Touya's grave to talk to him. You would sit there and tell him a brief summary of what happened.

You went there whenever something made you utterly happy or extremily sad - you could never share these things with your family. They didn't listen to you, so here you were at the cemetery talking to a tombstone.

One of these trips to your friend's place, during your final high school years, while you happily chatted about getting into a good college, you were being watched. Watched from afar, with full-on curiosity.

The one that was so captivated by seeing you, was no other than Dabi.

The boy was shocked seeing you there. He slowly approached you so he could hear what you blabbing about. You didn't really noticed him, he wasn't that close and you were facing his grave.

So it was a nice spot to just watch. He huffed and puffed at the thing you gushed about. But he couldn't help but smile, when you looked so happy to have gotten a good scholarship.

After you left, he approached his own grave, to see you had left flowers and a sweet. Touya remembered sharing those with you.

He let his gaze follow your distant form. He couldn't help but to think:

" Even Y/N, has moved on from me, huh? Living like I didn't made a difference."

It's a bit contradictory from what he just saw. But you were so happy. Glowing. And all he could remember you by was a worried face.

But still, that small interaction made him glad to come check his grave for what he thought to be the last time.

[herefortheships]

I woke up earlier than my alarm today and felt so refreshed. I slept the entire night! I hope that's a sign that my insomnia episode is ending. Anyway, soon after I woke up though, I started feeling emotionally bleh. I'm feeling kinda shitty today so I'm going to focus on the projects I'm working on and see if that helps. Maybe I'll write some Beetlejuice thing too. lol

I want to write headcanons about what would happen if he is released. My favorite headcanon is obviously that his soul will be freed from the curse, and he can come and go as he pleases but most importantly that he can move on, if he so chooses to get on the soul train to one of the heavenly realms (Disney ending, I know lol). I don't like the idea of him ending up in a hellish realm forever when his time as ghost ends (if it ever ends). My personal headcanon that's more likely to happen, though (bc I so know Burton would never let Betelgeuse pass on or be released from the curse of his name, or give me a fairy tale ending basically 🥲) is that he would be able to escape the afterlife, to come and go anywhere he pleases and just hang around the living and just be free. Like he could spend the day sitting next to Lydia and go with her wherever she goes if he wants and she can't send him away anymore 😂. He'd be a ghost/demon with no chains in that scenario.

I think most people think he'd do evil things if he's able to be free like that, but I think he'd just go anywhere he likes and pester Lydia 24/7 lol in my mind Betel isn't evil for evil's sake, maybe I love him too much to see his truth though. I also really like the headcanon that he will reincarnate if he marries a living person and he can just be alive again, but not sure how that would work because he'd just lose his powers (maybe?), plus would he reincarnate on the spot or would he pop back into his old grave in Italy?😂 Like when Buffy came back to life her rotting corpse was just revitalized and healed and made intact again and she woke up in her coffin. Anyway, this wasn't supposed to be the post I said I'd write. lmao I'll make a proper post later. But heck guess I'll tag this one as well, since I wrote stuff on this already 😂.

[immoralimmortals]

U know the talk Takara and kisame in the closet got me thinking, cause he was imagining himself with her as kids, so what would it be like if kid Takara meet all the akatsuki when they were kids,

So I've gotten a couple of asks like this! Here's one and here's another. Hate to leave you dry, though, so let me come up with some visuals for little Akatsuki and Takara:

Imagine Kisame. Sitting with her at the edge of a lake's short cliff, feet in the water. Her confessing she doesn't know how to swim very well and he offers to teach her. Enjoying every last second his hands get to hold her, realizing silently that a big, mean guy like him is in fact able to be helpful after all.

Imagine Itachi. Laying like mirrors of one another on summer grass, the top of his head and hers nearly touching as they look up at clouds in the sky. She points up and tells Itachi what shapes she thinks they look like. He doesn't say much, but he is listening and smiling.

Imagine Deidara. Pressing her palms into clays and paints and whatever else would be fun and distracting for her worried mind. Making things together, telling her how to do it right and pretending to be mad she got him dirty (but bursting into laughter seconds after).

Imagine Sasori. The shape of him and her sillouetted as they sit in a lantern-lit tent in the middle of the night, making shadow puppets on the walls. He gets impatient as she tries to make a bird and fails, abruptly holding her hands and bending them into the right shape. They get really quiet after that, realizing his fingers are curled around hers.

Imagine Hidan. Walking on a road, alone and with somewhere else to be, as he waxes about the way the world is and what it should be instead. But halfway into it, he realizes that if everyone was the way he wanted them to be, Takara wouldn't be who she is anymore. So he stammers and rolls it back: "Well...maybe if they were like YOU instead..." She'd ask him what it meant and he wouldn't be able to tell her, just turning his head and getting pink in the face.

Imagine Kakuzu. He's a hardworking boy, in both legitimate and illegitimate ways. Has a part time job where they catch each others' eyes, but neither say a thing. He spots her again on the street, and just as a stranger passes her by, Kakuzu grabs him by the collar and slams his fist into their stomach. As she watches in horror, the stranger slips to the ground and the boy leans down, picking up a familiar object. "Be more careful," he warns, holding a wallet between two fingers. Imagine Nagato. In the bed next to her at the hospital, him long term and her short term. He's so nice...but no one comes to visit. At night she sees him still awake, crying. Takara tells him that even if she has to go soon, they can be friends forever. He takes that to heart, and she follows through on her promise. She comes in every day to visit until one day, he's gone. He's a new (young) man next time they meet, a face full of peircings and a bolder voice. He says he's ready to be there for her now instead of the other way around.

Imagine Konan. She and Takara meet at a graveyard, Konan pointing out it's rude to step on a grave plaque while Takara jumps off her feet, not realizing that was the case. She offers another place to be, instead-- the view on top of the hill, overlooking the whole place. She asks Takara why she's here, to which she stutters that she always wanted to see it. Konan, in turn, says she comes here to study the angels-- the concrete statues, the somber guardians. For school? No, just a personal project. It begins to rain, but the willow tree shields them from getting too wet, and Takara looks in disbelief at the mysterious, ethereal girl while Konan stares at the murky view of the graves below.

Imagine Tobi. Forced to sit next to one another on the roller coaster at a carnival. He's silly- shrieks and holds her tight, exhaling loudly in relief once it's finally over. He asks her to come with him on every ride so he doesn't have to be alone. In truth, he's seen *her* alone all day and can't stand it any more; this is just his excuse to see the lonely girl smile. He watches her taste cotton candy and her eyes pop into stars, and it makes him feel something for the first time in years. (That's why he was at the carnival in the first place after all, in a last ditch effort to feel something again). Imagine Zetsu. A creature in the woods, appearing as young as she is, lit by the half-moon as she looks up from the forest floor in shock. Half of his face smiles, so sweet it's saccharine. He comments that she finally noticed, and another voice from the same boy adds that all it took was for her to finally turn around. He's been following her all night, and he knows what she's trying to do-- run away. But where to go? Well...-- Her heart thumps as he leans in closer. How about with him? He's known her for years, after all; he's eager for her to return the favor. Lonely creature he is, somehow, despite never being alone at all. Watching, waiting, until the girl on the edge of his kingdom finally came over to play.