#did she pick a god and pray? for her mother to come back. for her father not to hate her. for someone to look at her like shes not a monste

[yashley]

[bks-writing-adventures]

His Strong Girl (Aemond X Strong! Reader)

Warnings: Brief mentions of bullying and gore, brief mentions of sex, Alicent being a momzilla.

Word Count: 6.5 K

Summary: Aemond has always loved his Strong Girl, she's nearly of age to mary, and he wants her before anyone else can have her.

120 AC

As children, Aemond had always loved her. Even though he knew that he should not. His mother filled his brain with poison, to hate Rhaenyra and all that was part of her, and that included her children. The Strong children, all four of them. It was easy to hate Jace and Luke. They teased him. They found him a pig and called him the second son. They laughed at him and kept them out of their fun. They were kind to the other children in the court, but for reasons he could not understand, he was different. It was so hard on his young brain. He was all that he was supposed to be. H

e could read and write, he had light hair and light eyes. He always prayed at dinner time, and he always wore clean clothes, always had his hair brushed. He did all of his lessons. So what ever could be wrong with him? When Joffrey came along, it was easy to hate him, too. There was no doubt that he would grow into the sculpting hands of his older brothers. As soon as he would talk, he would be name calling and lying too. But when it came to her. Well, it was impossible. 

Her eyes were warm and kind, muddy brown like her brothers and her father. There was a small distance of age between them, a year and a half, but he could hardly tell. She was smart for her age. She was not puzzled by her lessons, and she listened well, could smile and nod. She cut her own food and lived in her own world. He kept his distance for a long time, whenever the whole family was forced together for weddings and funerals. But slowly, like butter beneath rays of sun, he warmed. He grew calm in her presence and peeled back his layers to be vulnerable.

To meet her in the library when she was in her pyjamas, and to whisper gossip that they had picked up in the halls. He had two sides of him. The side that hated the Strongs, and the side that loved. He was good at making sure they did not cross, that was, until the day his aunt died. He never knew much of her. He knew that she was pretty and powerful and rode the greatest dragon in the world. But he did not cry for her. He only stayed quiet as the respects were paid, and his eyes wandered the mourners for her. 

She was caught up between her brothers and their cousins. Black looked odd on her. She always wore pink or blue, maybe red, but hardly ever. Despite being half Targaryen, she had no like for the color. She was all about pastels and ruffles and frilliness. He frowned as he watched, and the feet between them felt like miles. As the group looked over to him, he offered an awkward grin, only to be returned with nothing. His heart sunk deeper into his body, and he tried to give her a light wave, to grab her attention.

But there was nothing he could do, and he could feel her slowly slipping from his fingers. Disappointment ate away at him, and he said nothing to her the entire day. And she made no effort to talk to him, either. And so when evening came and he was alone, with no gossip to speak of in the library, and no puzzles to put together, he found himself in the dragon pit. Tiptoeing carefully, listening to the snore of beasts who had survived all of the worlds wars. The scratch of their claws against stone, and finally, the hiss of fire as it nearly caressed his face. 

The sight of Vhagar was one unmatched, and he moved as though he were being controlled, a mere puppet of the gods as he slowly climbed the scaly creature. He screamed into the wind as it lapped at his hair, and he laughed with joy as they landed with a thump and a roar. All that he was missing in his life was against his palms, and his skin burned with the leather of the saddle. His heart had gone above the clouds, and it hadn’t come down, even as his shaky feet hit the floor, a smile bigger than he had ever worn stretched across his face as he moved to scurry away and back to bed.

He would tell his mother in the morning. She would be so proud. But fate had something else brewing for him, and he was met with the sight of his nephews and his cousins. He clung to the words he had heard from his mothers lips, and he threw them mindlessly as fists collided in the air. He did not remember half of it. And he did not know when it would end, gripping blindly at whatever he could find. A stone the size of his foot, lifting it above his head quickly, every one of his cells begging him to go through with the action. It could have only been a second, maybe not even. 

From the moment he saw the dagger in his little nephews hand, he knew that this was all over. This temporary shot of joy, and it died like a flame to ash as blood soaked his hand. He couldn’t hear his scream, but he could feel it deep in his lungs as he smacked against the ground, clawing at it. He shouted profanities as the guards dragged him to the maesters. He stared at his mothers face, and he sat still as he was surrounded by all of his family. And as he prayed for comfort, he was met with only fighting.

Shouting back and forth between his mother and sister, his father was of no help, and every other moment he was stabbed with a needle, his mouth curling at the feeling as his nails scratched against the armrest of the chair. He knew the eye was gone, but seeing it laying broken in a dish like the bad parts of a chicken. It broke him, and he stared at the wall as blood hit the floor, and when he was finally asked where he had heard the words he shouted, he stared at his mother. Her brows were furrowed, a deep crevasse in the middle. Her brown eyes were shining with a mix of sadness and fury, a touch of fear as she looked over at him. He swallowed his pain and spoke a lie.

 “Aegon.” He whispered out, and shut his eye for the rest to come. The last thing he remembered of that night was the look on her face, and the way her fingers curled, as if she wished to reach out and touch him, only to be quickly whisked away by Rhaenyra and Daemon. That was the night he decided his mother was right about them. All of them. Even his sweet, Strong girl. Because if she were truly strong, she would have come to him. Despite their orders, she would’ve comforted him. But instead, he was alone. Alone and scarred. 

127 AC

When he learned that his sister and her bastard children would be coming to his home, he tried his best to act as normal as he could. He ate his breakfast of pork and eggs, sharpened his sword and trained with Ser Criston. He ignored the groans of his brother, and watched quietly as his sister bounced her babies on her legs. He could almost smile. But he knew exactly how the children came to be. And if Aegon were not his brother, Aemond would have his head on the wall. Dread grew in his stomach as the sun reached its peak, and he hit against Criston’s sword with the ferocity of a thousand men. With every strike, he thought of the night he lost his eye. He thought of the dagger against his skin, the way he was treated so coldly, and how she had done nothing. And every night after that he felt as though he were frozen, reliving the moment over and over. He could feel the pain in his cheek and forehead with every twitch in his lips. 

Soon, the Prince promised he would stop smiling altogether, because maybe then, the pain would stop. And so when he saw his nephews, he stared them down, like a wolf to a rabbit. He liked to watch their discomfort, but his gaze, much to his distaste, softened when he caught sight of her behind them. She had grown beautiful with the years that had passed. Her once chubby cheeks were still round and flushed from the cool air, and her brown curls were pulled back by pins. She wore a pink gown that leaned toward purple, a bit dusty in its tone, covered in small swirls and patterns that he could not process from where he stood. His sweet girl. Her eyes were large, and freckles covered her. He didn’t remember her ever having freckles before, and it took Criston’s voice to break him from his trance.

 “You will be ready for the tourneys in no time, My Prince,” the Knight spoke, to wish he scoffed. 

“I do not give a shit about tourneys,” He responded, his voice quiet and cold. He did not see the pint in galloping around on a horse, fighting other men and yelling like animals, all for the attention of ladies that were as shallow as a tide pool. No. He would save himself for her, if she would have him. And he was certain she would.

 “Nephews, have you come to train?” He asked, his voice louder than before, brows raised. Jace turned to look at his younger brother, and their faces paled. They were afraid, and the thought made Aemond’s heart fill with joy. He threw his sword to the dirt for his men to pick up later. 

“And what of you, niece?” He asked, turning his head to look at her. Jace moved his shoulder to create a wall between them, but it did nothing for her curious eyes. She simply stood on her tiptoes, looked at him, and smiled. The sight brought a smirk to his lips, and when he walked to his chambers, he did so with a newfound confidence. He was quick to change into his outfit for the evening, one that covered every inch of his body, not even his wrists exposed. It made him feel better. As if it hid everything under. As if he were not still the runt of the litter. Even with all his training, he could never seem to grow.

He would always be the smallest of his kin, but what he lacked in size, he could make up for in skill. He could hardly wait for the evening meal. He was not hungry, but he was thrilled. To see her, to tease her. And maybe, if he were lucky, she would meet him in the library like old times. As he paced back and forth, he practically counted down the minutes until the sun finally fell. He groaned as they gathered for yet another meeting, but he could put up with it, if it meant seeing her. 

She stood beside her mother, and it was only then that he could see a hint of resemblance between them. They had the same way of standing, and they were close in height. They shared a curved nose and a cunning gaze, but she only wore it softer. She had not yet seen violence, she had not watched the light fall from a mans eyes. She had not yet lost a love, and he could see her smile softly as the betrothals of her brothers were announced. He relished in the way that she nudged her brothers and gave them a teasing raise of brow before she remembered her surroundings, trying to return to her previously serious demeanor.

A smile pulled at his lips, and his eye narrowed as he stared at her, compelling her to look up at him. Please. He thought to himself, feeling his heart leap as their eyes met. She was just so beautiful. But the peace of her gaze was quickly broken when Vaemond began to speak of their heritage, and Aemond watched in displeasure as her brows furrowed, as her big eyes stared at the floor in shame. 

The others, he could smile at. But to see her caught in the fight, to see her be called names.

 It disgusted him. His back stiffened, and he bit his tongue. He would have plenty of time to speak to her later, to hold her in the years to come, to fuck the bastardy out of her. But he would have to wait. His hands curled in on themselves, and in a fraction of a moment, Vaemond was gone. His head hit the floor with a sloppy thump, Helaena turned away, her eyes huge and her hands on her head, and he watched as his Strong Girl practically mirrored her, her thumbs pressed against her ears and her fingers over her eyes. He sighed, staring at the body on the floor, his gaze slowly following the bloody sword until he was gazing at his uncle. Daemon. An interesting man he was. And slowly, Aemond smiled. This would be an interesting night. 

When dinner time came, he took his seat and looked at the rest of the table. Baela and Rhaena, Rhaenyra and Daemon, and next to them, there she was. He smiled a little to himself. They always did that, sitting around her like a human shield, practically hiding her from his view. He followed his mothers words as she called for prayer, and he smiled to himself as his mother spoke of Vaemond Velaryon. The old man could never shut his mouth. The food came out in small rounds, starting with potatoes and bread, and he gazed at her as he licked the remnants of potato from his thumb.

Her eyes were so big, and he loved watching her cheeks get nice and flushed. And even more, he loved seeing how angry her brothers got, all while her mother remained clueless. When the main course came out, he stared in silence as the roasted pig sat in front of him. He could tell how this was going to go, lifting his head to stare right at Luke, seeing the beginning’s of a smile on his mouth. His hands curled into fists, and just as he moved to stand, she spoke. “Luke. Do not be impolite,” She whispered softly. She was soft and sweet, but she had such a bold presence to her when she wanted it. 

“But-” Luke began, and she gently shook her head. “Eat your carrots. Mother said to be on our best behavior,” She said softly, reaching over to start cutting his soft boiled carrots up. Aemond frowned, slowly leaning back. He had so much anger to release, and no real reason to release it. She was a gem, that girl. She could so easily diffuse a situation. She was the type of woman that she be on the throne. They could share it together, one day. As the evening grew old and their stomachs were full, the music began to flow delicately on the harps. As soon as he saw Jace’s eyes brighten, he stood, walking around the table like a shark circling a helpless seal, placing his hands on the back of her chair. 

“Aemond,” His mother spoke up, her voice filled with caution as she sat up straight. “Do not worry, mother. I only wish to know if my lovely, strong girl wants to dance with me,” He responded, his fingertips moving across her curls. Rhaenyra bit her cheek, and he could feel the tension growing like a cage. 

“I dare you to say that again,” Jacaerys spoke, his hands flat on the table. 

“Brother,” She said softly, gazing back at him. Their eyes met for nearly ten seconds, and finally, he looked away. “I will dance with you,” She spoke, pulling her chair from the table and gently taking his hand. “If you promise not to stomp on my toes,” She says, teasing him a little as he pulled her to the stone tiles. 

“I will do my very best,” He whispered, his hands curling around hers. Her touch was so delicate, and he found himself taking a small whiff of her wrist. Raspberries and cashews. It was a unique scent, but it was hers. He wanted to bathe in it, paint it onto his pillow. “I have missed you,” He said softly. And he had. He often found himself dreaming of the possibilities. Of bringing Vhagar to her bedroom window. Of taking her to the skies and bringing her to the forest, where they were not a Prince and a Princess, but only teenagers in love. “You will be a woman grown soon,” He said softly, his thumbs rubbing circles into her palms as he spun her under his arms. It would only be eight months before they were the same age, and it was only eight months before she would finally be on the marriage market. He just had to make his claim before anyone else could.

 “I know,” She said softly, her fingers trailing to the cuffs on his wrist, touching the golden dragons with her gentle strokes. “I feel as though I was 9 only yesterday,” She mumbled, and he smiled in return. 

“Tell me about it,” He mumbled, his hands moving down to her waist, his touch gentle. His eye wandered to the necklaces she wore, the ones that layered. The shortest was to her collarbone, and the longest was just between her breasts. A seahorse. A Velaryon symbol, something that didn’t belong to her, and they all knew it. His fingers slowly wandered to it, his thumb rubbing against the emerald eyes and the golden details. “This is a symbol of your fathers house, is it not?” He asked softly. His fingers slowly wandered up to cup her face, his fingers against her jaw, licking his lips.

 “It is a symbol of the sea,” She said quietly, and he could see the turmoil in her eyes. He could feel the gaze of his family on him, and he knew they would not be pleased. But his mother was simply delighted, a scheming smile on her face.

 “You like the sea, my lady?” He mumbled softly. They were hardly dancing anymore, he was just holding her close, holding her face, his thumb pressing against her lips. 

“Who does not?” She asked softly, smiling a bit. She was always so sweet when she spoke of the sea, and he could see so much excitement in his eyes.

 “I must admit, I have never had great love for it. Smells of salt and dying fish, and sand simply gets everywhere, the seagulls chase me,” He mumbles, making her laugh a little, brows raised in amusement.

 “Perhaps they just like the look of you,” She said, and he smiled, head tilted. 

“Is that what you think?” He asked. 

“Well, if I were a seagull, I would go for you. Your hair would make a good nest,” She teases, making his eye roll. “But truly, you must be going to the worst spots. I have missed Kingslanding. The shores are beautiful,” She says. His heart thumped, and he found himself gazing into her eyes. 

“Then you should stay,” He responded softly, leaning a little closer. It was hard to remember that they were surrounded, and that they were not the only people in the world.

 “And how would I go about that?” She asked softly. 

“You could marry me,” He spoke softly, and the whole room went silent, the notes on the harp fading out. Her brows raised, and she looked like she might giggle. She couldn’t tell if he was being serious or not, blinking slowly. 

“You do not mean that,” She said softly. 

“Oh, but I do. You would be so happy here.” He mumbled, pushing some falling curls behind her ears, whispering gently against her skin.

 “Wait for me, will you?” He mumbled. Her face flushed, and he could practically feel her heart pounding beneath her skin. She was about to speak, but the doors opened and cakes began to roll out, small cups of pudding, trays of lemon cakes and cookies.

 “(Y/N), come sit,” Rhaenyra called, and she gazed up at Aemond for a moment, as if trying to speak, but nothing would come out. Slowly, they parted, moving to go back to their seats. Her cheeks were so warm, and she prayed that no one else could tell under the warm light of the candles. Immediately, Rhaenyra leaned toward her, searching her face for discomfort. 

“What did he say to you?” She asked, noting the odd look of.. Something on her daughters face. It wasn’t fear, and it wasn’t discomfort. She just couldn’t place that expression. 

“Nothing, mother,” She said softly. All eyes were on her, and Daemon wore a smirk like a man would wear a crown.

 “I believe she has feelings for the boy,” He whispered, making Rhaenyra’s eyes widen. She looked disgusted, for a brief moment, but she quickly hid her distaste, blinking it away as she took lemon cakes onto her plate. 

“We will talk about this later,” She said quietly, plucking the sweetened lemons from the top of the cake and placing one in her mouth. Daemon reached over and took the cake itself. They had a system. She would eat the fruits, and he would eat the parts she did not want. Meanwhile, she reached for a cookie, breaking it into small pieces on her plate, trying her best not to look at Aemond. She could tell that he was getting the same treatment on his side of the table, a knowing smile on his face as his mother shook his arm, trying to juice information out of him. He only chuckled to himself, taking a few sips of his wine. When the dinner finally ended, she was a blushing mess as she followed her mother, looking over her shoulder to see Aemond going in the other direction, a silent agreement in their eyes. They would see each other in the library tonight. As she took her bath, all she could think of was him.

 Him and his offer, and the more she thought of it, the more she smiled. She trusted him more than she ever could a stranger. And she began to think of how she could convince her mother to let it happen. She trusted that Aemond would never hurt her. Maybe men that acted out of their place, maybe annoying nephews at the dinner table, but never her, and she was confident in that. And perhaps the marriage could bring the family together. Rhaenyra had wanted Jace to marry Helaena, after all. She did have a desire for the families to mix. That was it. That would be her selling point. “Some time alone, please?” She asked the maids as they scrubbed her body and hands.

 “Of course, Princess,” They responded, quickly leaving. She sighed softly, ringing out her loofa as she looked at the mirror. Perhaps if she had children with Aemond, they would come out with white hair. Maybe they would have a better life than her. Her eyes then wandered to her seahorse necklace, and she remembered her father, before his death. Her life had been an odd one. She felt like she had a new father every couple of years, and in truth, she had. She had the father who’s seed she grew from, who taught her how to count and tucked her into bed during his shifts on the nightwatch.

She had the father who taught her how to fish, and which shells made the best necklaces, and which crabs were dangerous. And then she had the father that taught her to be bold, the one who married her mother the day after his own wife died. That had been a tough one, and in truth, she still was not warmed to Daemon. She did not like the way he treated her precious mother, and she swore to herself that she would never have a marriage like theirs. When she was finally dried of her bath, she looked out to the stars.

 She looked for her favorite constellations, and she smiled as she remembered the library in the Red Keep. It was beautiful and large and full of enough books to last a lifetime. She was quick to get into her pyjamas, and even quicker to open her door, looking up at her guard. 

“Excuse me,” She said softly, stepping out. “Are you going somewhere, Princess?” He asked, a look of confusion on his face. He had a long beard, and she was sure he had seen him before.

 “Yes,” She answered, making her way down the corridor without saying anything else. She made her way as quiet as she could to the library, passing a rat or two that made her heart jump. That was something that she had hated about the Red Keep. There was nothing on the windows, so animals would come and go as they pleased. She much preferred mice over rats. Something about their tails tickled her brain in the worst of ways. When she finally did reach the library, her eyes searched for him, and she felt disappointment rising in her like steam when she could not find him. Perhaps she had gotten the wrong message. Maybe she made up the language of the eyes. But she would not waste her trip, beginning to pick out a book or two on constellations and The Moon and The Tides.

 “You didn’t think I forgot, did you?” His voice made her jump, and she gripped her skirt as her eyes searched for him. “So close, my little doe. Look down,” He spoke, and when she did, she found him hiding under one of the tables in a pile of blankets. She smiled, crouching.

 “Are you hiding?” She asked softly. She couldn’t see his expression in the dark, but she could feel warmth radiating from him.

 “I am not hiding. I simply wanted to see how long it would take to find me,” He responded, reaching for her hand and pulling her down. This was much easier when they were kids, but now he was longer than the table, and the needed more pillows. 

“So you have just been watching me walk around aimlessly?” She teased, making him nod.

 “Oh, of course,” He spoke softly, his hands finding her cheeks, squishing them gently. “I want to speak with my sister,” He mumbled softly, pulling her closer until her belly was against his chest. “I will not marry you until I get her permission,” He said softly. She nodded softly, leaning her cheek against his chest. She could hear his heart racing, and she smiled at the feel of the vibrations.

 “I did not take you for the type to want Mommy’s blessing,” She mumbles, making him scoff. 

“I know better than to take away her little girl. She owes me this much, for all that has been done to me,” He spoke, and her hand slowly made its way up to his eyepatch.

 “I am sorry that I said nothing that night,” She mumbled, and he softened against her touch. 

“You were only a child,” He said quietly. 

“As were you. None of us deserved all that has happened to us. If it is any help, I stole Luke’s desserts for a week,” She mumbled gently.

 “Ah, yes. That is the most appropriate punishment,” He teased, making her roll her eyes. 

“I did what I could.” She speaks, her lips brushing against his forehead, placing a small kiss there. A bit of his hair got into her mouth, and he squirmed, making him chuckle. 

“Are you trying to make a nest of my hair?” He asked, recalling their earlier conversation.

 “Oh hush.” She mumbled, curling up into him. Neither of them meant to fall asleep, but it was just so warm and comforting, and slowly, they fell into a slumber, feet sticking out of their fort. When they woke, it was to yells so loud they thought someone was killed. Both sat up far too quick, smacking the tops of their heads against the wooden tables. In shame, they crawled out quickly, her eyes big as she stared up at both of their mothers.

 “What is the meaning of this?” Rhaenyra asked. She sounded so angry, but her eyes were not on her daughter, they were on Aemond, her lips pressed into a fineline.

 “We were having a sleepover,” He said simply. “You know what that is like, don’t you sister? Didn’t you used to have sleepovers with your friends quite frequently?” He asked. He couldn’t speak without being antagonistic. 

“Aemond!” She and Alicent exclaimed at the same time. 

“Mother, please. I promise it was nothing. We were only speaking,” She said softly, eyes on the floor as she was pulled closer, her face and neck inspected for marks. “We just wanted to do as we used to as children, that is all,” She said softly. Rhaenyra slowly calmed, tucking her hair behind her ears.

 “He did nothing to you?” She asked.

 “Of course not. Aemond would never hurt me,” She spoke, feeling Aemond’s hand moving to her shoulder. 

“That much is true,” He spoke. “Sister, it has been a long time since we have spoken face to face,” He said, his eyepatch on the floor, having fallen off in his sleep. He wanted her to look at him in full, to see all that he had become. 

“That it has,” Rhaenyra spoke, her face void of emotion. 

“You know that I love your daughter. That has never been a secret. Do not deny her happiness because of one misunderstanding.” He said, making Rhaenyra’s face slowly fall. Her eyes looked to Alicent, as if she had any part in this. She simply shrugged, mouth parted. 

“What are you saying, Aemond?” She asked her youngest son. 

“I am saying that I wish to unite our families. I will marry (Y/N).” He spoke, leaving no room for discussion. Rhaenyra stared blankly at the pair. She had wished to stop the resentment between the families, and this would be the perfect way. But she could not bear the thought of her daughter staying here, alone with him, with them. She knew that (Y/N) would marry one day, but she just didn’t realize how soon that would be. But as she saw her daughters smile, and the hope in her eyes, she just could not say no. “Very well.” She spoke after a moment, letting out a deep breath.

 “I will allow it. But you will wait the moons until her name day. We will ensure that this is what she truly wants,” She spoke, nodding to herself. Alicent was more hesitant, running through the possibilities in her mind. This was not what she wanted, not one bit. She wanted as much distance between the two families as possible. And what would the people say when they learned that the Prince was marrying a bastard? Her blood was good as dirt, and she came from a family of liars and narcissists. But no matter what she said, she knew her son would do as he pleased, so finally, she nodded, looking down at the floor. 

128 AC The wedding day came quicker than either of them had expected. For at least three hours a day it was just planning, planning, planning. Trying on rings and taking them off, getting as close as they could without their chaperones making a fuss, whispered compliments and holding hands under the table. And of course, having to remind Alicent that this was not her wedding. “Oh, but wouldn’t a green dress be so lovely?” She asked, holding the fabric to (Y/N)’s skin. Rhaenyra could sense her discomfort, giving a light shake of her head. 

“No. She has already decided to wear a gown similar to mine,” She spoke, and as Alicent went to open her mouth, she quickly spoke again.

 “Don’t you remember that from when you were young? How old were you, nine or so? I found you in my chambers trying to get the dress on. It was much too long for you then,” Rhaenyra smiled fondly as she sipped her tea. 

“It will not fit her,” Alicent pointed out, to which Rhaenyra smiled. 

“It is a good to live in the time of seamstresses, is it not? I have already had it expanded and altered to suit her. You should worry about your son. Black leather at a wedding would be quite improper,” She spoke. Aemond sighed, slowly making eye contact with his betrothed. The pair were rather calm, but their mothers… were certainly something. 

“I have already had his clothing commissioned. He will wear a fine beaded doublet of dragons and seahorses, in nod to her…. Velaryon heritage,” Alicent spoke, her voice soft and sarcastic, making Rhaenyra’s eyes roll. (Y/N) could not take it anymore.

 “In all respect, this is my wedding. It is our wedding. We do not need this petty argument ruining our day. We both have fine clothes to wear, we have stunning rings, invitations are sent, and that is the end of it.” She spoke, looking between the two older women, watching them go silent. And so the pair would sit and wait for the day to come, resting together in the gardens, watching the sun fall and rise as they ate their meals on a blanket. They were romantic and disgusting, living in their own little world, just them and their chaperone.

 “I cannot wait until we are finally wed and can be alone,” He sighed, rubbing her hand, kissing the top of her engagement ring. It was golden and covered in stones. It was far from traditional, and it was exactly the type of thing that she enjoyed.

 “Nor can I,” She said softly, smiling as she saw a bunny running across the grass.

 “Only a few days left,” he said softly. “You are certain you want to go through with this? There is still time to call it all off,” He mumbled, making her scoff.

 “Of course I am certain. I will just have to prepare myself for more of your mothers comments,” She responded teasingly. 

“Oh, Gods. Are do not want to think about that. I only wish to think of what it will be like to finally kiss you, to share our names and bodies… to finally sleep in the same bed and wake up to the sight of you every morning,” he murmured, making her cheeks burn.

 “Stop it,” She mumbles, too embarrassed to listen to any more of it, placing her hands on her ears, making him chuckle as he pulled them off. 

“I am thrilled to see your pretty face all sleepy and puffy, and to share our evening meals, to have painting after painting made of you to hang on my walls until I cannot escape those pretty eyes,” He smiled. She squirmed under him, flattered and grossed out, covering her crimson cheeks. “Hm.. the bugs are coming out,” He sighed as the sky got dark and frogs bred in the distance. She sighed, and they carefully packed up their things and made their way back to the Keep. Alicent was watching them from her balcony, and the two walked a safe distance apart. Only a few more days they would have to hold themselves together. And finally, on the 18th day of the 11th moon, all of the Lords and Ladies of importance were packed inside the Red Keep. Beautiful gowns twirling under candle light, the best of music echoing from the harps. Aemond tried to breath as he walked in, his eyes finally finding her. 

And gods, he would marry her a million times over. Her curls were full of pearls and small pins, half of her hair up and the other half down. His palms were sweating, pressing against his doublet. He was painfully aware of everyone looking at him, but he couldn’t look away from her.

 “(Y/N).” He murmured softly as she finally stood in front of him. He was struck dumb by her beauty, blinking slowly. 

“Aemond,” She said softly, their voices quiet and kept to the loudness of a breath. Both of their faces red as the Sept read off some text, but neither of them were paying attention. Hurry up, Aemond thought to himself, getting increasingly more anxious as the minutes passed. And finally, as silence covered them, he reached forward, held her cheeks, and pressed a big kiss to her mouth. It was sweet and awkward, and their teeth bumped for a brief moment. All of the love they had collected for each other in the last months came oozing out, her hands holding his until they finally parted, looking at each other, their breath lost.

 “And you have… kissed your bride.” The Septon spoke, a bit awkwardly, as if this had never happened before. And it had not. The crowd was quiet, looking around for the reaction they were supposed to have, until they finally erupted in applause.

 “I love you, My Strong Girl,” He whispered into her ear. She smiled up at him, arms around his shoulders as flower petals flew like rain.

 “Aww, thank you,” She said, making his eye squint. She laughed, her thumbs pressing her cheeks.

 “And I love you too, my One Eyed Prince,” She mumbled, feeling his arms around her waist, holding her close as if he wished to absorb her. And so the One Eyed Prince and The Strong Girl lived the happiest they could, despite the violence around them and the whispers in their ears, their love never died. Burning furious and strong like Vhagar’s flame, and with every five years that passed, they would have wedding after wedding after wedding, until they were wed beneath all the gods and above all the land. Until their love could not be denied, and until they died, where their ashes were mixed and mingled with the shore, covered in shells and seahorses.

I think this might be the longest fic i've posted so far! I hope you enjoyed it!!

Thank you to everyone who reads.

♡- BK

[jar0fhoney]

PART 1 - PART 2 - PART 3 (NSFW) - PART 4 - PART 5 (NSFW)

Your family did fine. You were more comfortable than some, but not so comfortable that you could sit idle. The crops had started to bud, and the shop was filled with all manner of pickled vegetables, fresh eggs, and flowers. You counted the coppers and silvers in the little lock box under the counter. Business was the same as usual, but your brow still furrowed.

Mother was getting tired. The decades of tilling, sowing, reaping, and harvesting had started to toll on her. Especially after your father left. The bastard. Your mother labored at home with an aching back and bad knees. Before long the crops would flourish and need tending. It was more than enough work for two, unfathomable for just you alone.

Jeering came from outside the shop. A band of orc hunters with their catches. They were a threatening bunch. Hard and strong. One orc could have the strength of two men. In the great cities they faced more discrimination, but out here someone either hunted for their meat, or payed other people to do the hunting for them. And the orcs… they were masterful at what they did. And so they were welcomed.

The rusted hinges of your shop door creaked. “Did you miss me?”

Any desire to feign positivity drained from your person. You didn’t even try to hide the sour look on your face. Milo was a repugnant leech that had been stalking your family for years. He had tried courting each one of your elder sisters, losing them each time to men better than him. And now you were the last sister on the list. Unmarried. And running out of time. The latter fact he was quite aware of.

”How is Celina?” You never liked how he called your mother by her first name. It was too familiar. You don’t bother to look up from your coin counting. “My Mother’s wellbeing is none of your concern.” Milo sauntered up to the counter, “y/n-“

You slammed your fist, sending a few coins into the air. “When will you get the idea that my family wants nothing to do with you?” You still couldn’t look him in the eye. He sighed, picking up one of the coppers from the floor, “You would rather your mother toil in the field? You would rather surrender yourself to the life of a shopkeep? It’s a waste.”

You had no answer for him. Because he was right to question your choices. Yes you truly enjoyed running the family shop, but you couldn’t possibly keep this up for long without your mother. She deserved peace and rest. But he was just… a nuisance at best. Frightening at worst. His family owned half the town, and how easy it would be for them to blacklist you and your mother from ever doing business in their marketplace again.

”Anyways…” He dropped the coin down onto your counter with a clank, “Winter will come. And will you be prepared? If your mother cannot help you work the fields…”

”Are you trying to give me an ultimatum?” You had pushed the idea of next winter out of your head the second the ice started to melt. But he was right, what would you do? He didn’t entertain your question with a response. No… it wasn’t an ultimatum. It was a threat. A threat that when winter came you would get what was coming to you. He made his way out the door, the rusty hinges screeching. “You should really fix that.” He gave a nasty grin and let the door slam behind him.

You pushed all the thoughts of worry from your head. It was something you had grown skilled at doing. Gods be damned if you let him spoil such a lovely morning. You threw the windows of the shop open, arranging bouquets from your flower garden for the street to see.

At night when you and your mother pray over dinner, you beg anyone listening for an eternal spring.

~

Two weeks pass uneventfully. You sell many bouquets of flowers to well-to-do ladies, and your mother’s special pickled red onions fly off the shelves as usual. In the early morning you sit counting your coins, listening to the soft bustling of the market just beginning to wake up.

”You know you can pickle these eggs right?”

You keep your eyes trained on the coins, trying not to lose count. There is a long pause, but you can tell the man hasn’t walked away, “We don’t sell any here.”

“You should.” You raise your head to cock an eyebrow at him. You try to stifle a gasp from your chest. An orc man with olive green skin is leaned slightly through the window of your shop. You had never had an orc approach your little shop. They always had bigger and better things to sell and buy.

”We don’t sell those here.” A more rational person would have thought twice before talking back to an orc hunter. But you were tired of men questioning you. A young lady entered the shop, eyeing the orc man still leaning on your window sill. The door squealed unpleasantly, cutting through the tension like a knife. “Fine,” The orc smirked and shrugged, exiting your window.

~

The next day, there was a basket waiting for you on your shop’s doorstep. You groan. This wouldn’t be the first time Milo left gifts for you to find. You take a peek into the bracket and… what was this? Spices? Salt? Garlic cloves? Underneath the goods were two silver coins.

You yelped at the sound of fingers rapping against the window pane. You reeled around expecting Milo. But… it was the orc man. The orc man from the day before. He pointed at the little latch holding the window closed. You were sure he could punch his way right through the window if he really wanted in. “I don’t want any trouble!” You yelled at him through the window.

Another smirk crept onto his face, “I bring no trouble with me, Miss. I just thought you might like a chance to make some more coin.”

What this lecherous orc seriously propositioning you for pay? Before he could say another thing, you hurled an egg at him. You hoped it would have just broken against the window to frighten him off. But to your horror it crashed through the glass, making a direct impact with his face. “Fuck!” You heard him fall on his ass in the street.

You rushed to the window. The orc was splayed out on the cobblestones, his forehead bleeding from the broken glass. He lay motionless, and you started to panic. Oh Gods. Oh Gods no. You just assaulted an orc. A big strong orc man who kills things for his living. Not even Milo or his family’s status could protect you from the wrath of an angry orc. You threw open the screeching rusted front door. Oh gods he was huge. He knew where you worked. He could follow you home. What if he brought his fellow huntsmen with him? What if they hurt your mother as well?

You couldn’t stop any of the thoughts racing through your head. You were worried about making it through winter… now you might not even make it through the summer. You bit down on your fist, trying to keep composure.

”Got a hell of an arm…” The orc grunted, pulling you out of your trance. He sat himself up, bringing his fingers to the drops of blood running down his temple. “Ha!” He guffawed and made his way to stand up.

”Please… please.” You weren’t sure if you were praying to a high power or pleading to him. His eyes met yours but there was no rage, or fury. There was a look of annoyance, maybe a bit of mild amusement. Rubbing his hand over the back of his neck he said, “Miss. I only meant… you should make pickled eggs. There are a lot of orc boys out here far from the motherland. They would pay a premium for a taste of home.”

You were nearly speechless, “I- I don’t know how orcs prefer their pickled eggs-

“That basket has everything you need.”

“Oh… okay. Very well. Sir.” Your voice wavered and he could see how clearly frightened you were.

The orc groaned, wiping more blood off his face. “Sorry about this. See you around.” You hoped that wasn’t a threat, but with that he jogged his way down the street.

Blasted pickled eggs.

[janeyseymour]

Drunk Actions, Sober Thoughts- part 2

Part 1 @theboreworms @schemmentisbaby @ literally everyone else who bullied me into writing a part 2, i hope this lives up to your expectations.

Summary: Are drunk actions really sober thoughts?

WC: ~2.35k

When Melissa wakes up, she wakes with a groan. Jesus Christ, how much did she have to drink at Janine’s party last night? And who let her drink that- it hits her at a dizzying rate. Barbara was determined to get Sea Barbara to come out, which she succeeded in. And because she and the redhead usually go shot for shot with heavy handed pours, Melissa also got absolutely hammered. 

The second grade teacher turns, and she realizes she’s in her bed. How did she get- Holy shit. She vaguely remembers flirting with you the entire night. Does that mean you brought her home? Did she say anything stupid? Did she try to make any moves on you?

“Never goin’ shot for shot with Barbie again,” Melissa grumbles to herself as she reaches for her nightstand drawer to grab Advil. Of course though, there’s already a glass of water and two pills sitting nicely on top. She downs them and prays to God himself that this hangover will go away quickly.

Once she’s secure in the fact that she isn’t going to get sick standing up, the redhead makes her way out of bed, secures her reading glasses on her head, and heads downstairs. And sitting on the coffee table is your note. Her tired eyes can’t read your note without her glasses, so she pulls them down and sets them on the tip of her nose before scanning what you had written.

“Fuck,” Melissa mumbles to herself. “What the fuck did I do last night?”

As she cooks herself breakfast, memories come back in pieces. She remembers taking shots with Barbara, you coming in, dancing with you- her hand in your back pocket.

Meanwhile, at breakfast, you’re doing everything that you can to try to stay focused and pay attention to what your dad is telling you, but it’s quite difficult.

“What’s got you so distracted today, kiddo?” your father asks. “And don’t tell me it’s nothing, because it’s clearly something.”

You shrug. “Just… had a long night last night.”

“Why would that be?” your dad chuckles. “You knew you had to be up bright and early to be with your old man today.”

“My coworker had a party, and I ended up having to take my other colleague home,” you explain, and you quietly pray he doesn’t pry any further.

  Of course though, he does. “Was it that Melissa character?”

Your cheeks turn red at the memory of last night. “Yeah,” you mumble.

“What happened? Did you tell her how you feel?”

You shake your head. “Of course not. But, uh-” You scratch the back of your head. “She might’ve told me how she feels about me.”

“Oh?” your dad raises his eyebrows as he takes a sip of his coffee. “So what came of that?”

“Well,” you sigh softly. “Nothing yet. I had to leave to come meet you, but I told her I would come back so we could talk about it today.”

“Why the hell are you here with me, kid?” the man across the table asks you. “You should be there with her.”

“I wouldn’t cancel on you, dad,” you roll your eyes. “I haven’t seen you in a while, and I wouldn’t cancel on you.”

“Well, I’m telling you now to get the hell out of here and go to her.”

“We’re in the middle of breakfast.”

“And I’ll see you again next weekend,” your father tells you as he takes a bite of his hash brown. “Go get your girl, kid.”

“Are you being serious right now?”

He nods. “Go. I’ll be waiting for your call to tell me how it went.”

With a heavy breath blown out, you stand, grab your purse, kiss your cheek, and head out of the restaurant.

Your father watches you go before picking up his cell phone and calling your mother. “Jude, I think our girl might finally get her girl.”

“It’s about damn time, Bobby.” 

Your heart is racing by the time you pull back into Melissa’s driveway. You can see her silhouette through the window and take a deep breath for getting out of the car and making your way up to the house.

You have no idea how this is going to go, but you can only hope that it works out in your favor. You knock gently, and she’s at the door about thirty seconds later.

Her hair is up in one of the messiest buns you’ve seen, her glasses are on the tip of her nose, and even though she’s simply in her pajamas, you can’t help but think about how beautiful she looks right now. How waking up next to her this morning was something that you’ve wanted to do for a long time.

“Hey,” she sighs softly as she steps aside to let you in.

“Hey,” you reply just as gently. “How are you feeling this morning?”

She shrugs. “Woke up with a ridiculous hangover. Thank you for the Advil and water this morning.”

“Of course,” you chuckle quietly.

She gestures for you to come inside. “Well, are you going to just stand there, or are you going to come in?”

You make your way into the house on light feet and set your purse down on her couch. “I think we need to talk.”

“Yeah,” Melissa hums. “Listen, about last night… I’m really sorry if I crossed a boundary.”

You shake your head. “You didn’t cross any boundaries,” you promise her. “I just think we need to talk about the things that were said and done last night. How much of it do you remember?”

She relays to you what she remembers- drinking with Barbara, having you near her most of the night once you got there, the dancing… her hand placement.

“You remember more than I thought you would,” you can’t help but giggle. “Especially for how gone you were last night.”

“I’m sure there’s more that I’m not remembering,” the redhead scratches the back of her neck. “Care to fill me in?”

You worry your lip between your teeth for a few seconds before you sigh softly. “Mel, you… you kept telling people I was your girl. When I brought you home, you… you had me pressed up against the wall.”

The redhead’s mouth falls open in shock. “Holy shit.”

“You told me you have feelings for me and what you love about me,” you continue.

“I-” Melissa puts her head in her hands to hide her embarrassment. “I am so sorry.”

You shrug. “I wasn’t mad about it. I just- is that really how you feel about me?” You subconsciously tuck a stray hair behind your ear. You quirk your lips to one side and keep your eyes on the ground. If she didn’t mean what she told you last night, you don’t want Melissa to see the disappointment on your face. That would be beyond embarrassing. What you don’t see is the slight widening of Melissa’s eyes as she remembers something she said last night.

“Hun.” A soft hand cups your cheek and forces you to look into those jade eyes of her own.

“Mel,” you sigh softly. “It’s fine.”

Red hair sways back and forth gently as she shakes her head. “Drunk words and actions are sober thoughts,” she tells you the sentiment she slurred out last night. 

And then her lips are on yours again. And although she had kissed you before previously, you aren’t expecting it this time either. It takes you a few seconds to set your hands on her waist and pull her closer to you. When she pulls away, there’s a warm smile on her face, and her eyes are a softer shade of green than you’ve ever seen. The sparkle in them is as bright as ever.

“I meant what I told you last night,” Melissa tells you quietly. “I just… never thought I’d actually get the girl.”

“I thought I’d never get the girl,” you chuckle softly as you lean in to kiss her again. “Holy shit.”

“Just wait until you can see what else I can do,” the redhead smirks.

You end up spending the day with Melissa. It’s warm, it’s cozy. It’s quite similar to how you would usually spend a day with her outside of school, but there’s more stolen kisses, more hand holding, arms wrapped around your waist as you cook lunch and dinner together.

“So,” you hum out quietly as you sit next to her for dinner today. “I do think we should talk about what… this… is.” You gesture between the two of you.

“I don’t want no fling,” the redhead tells you. “I want you. And if that’s something that you can’t handle, then I think we need to call it-”

You stop her with a kiss. When you pull back you roll your eyes at her. “Melissa Schemmenti, I haven’t even been on a date since I started working at Abbott because the only person I can think about is you. I don’t want a fling either. I want you. I want this.”

She nods with that starry smile of hers. It dims a few seconds later though. “Do you think… think we can just keep this under wraps for a little bit? Like, at least with the work group?”

“You aren’t going to tell Barb?” you chuckle.

Melissa shrugs. “She’ll find out in her own time… probably when I drag you along to one of our brunches over the summer.”

You end up calling your father on the car ride home from your now girlfriend’s house.

“Kid?” your dad picks up. “Hey, I was expecting your call a little earlier than this. Is everything okay?”

“I’m good,” you sigh softly. “Sorry. I was just spending time with my girlfriend.”

You can hear your mother gasp in the background. “Girlfriend?”

“Girlfriend,” you confirm.

You can practically see smile on both of their faces. “Oh, how wonderful.”

“When do we get to meet her?” your mom asks loudly. You can faintly hear your father telling her that she doesn’t need to scream into the phone to be heard.

“I’m sure she’ll make an appearance sooner or later,” you laugh. “We are keeping it quiet for the time being, but… you’ll meet her over the summer.”

Your girlfriend ends up accompanying you to the family fourth of July picnic. As you could’ve guessed, your parents absolutely adore her. She’s the perfect amount of charming while also maintaining that mysterious and sarcastic aura around her. She’s great with your younger cousins, and also their parents. Quite a few of your family members end up pulling you aside to tell you that if you let her go, they’re taking her side in the matter. You just reply with the same thing each time: an eye roll and the statement, “I’m not planning on letting her go.”

The rest of July, you spend a lot of time down at the shore. Melissa and her ex-husband have a time share, and your now girlfriend prefers to use it during July while he would rather have June. It’s convenient the way that all worked itself out. You don’t think you’ve eaten so many curly fries in vinegar before this summer.

July passes by quickly, soaking in the sun, taking in the views (of your girlfriend in her bathing suit), resting and relaxing. And then August creeps up on you, and it’s about time for the two of you to begin thinking about going back to school.

“So we’re still keeping it on the down low?” you ask gently as you crawl into bed the night before professional development starts.

“I think so,” the redhead shrugs. “I like this little bubble that we’re in- don’t you?”

You smile and kiss her warmly. “I do.”

“An’,” your girlfriend shrugs again. “If they find out, they find out. Ain’t like we hiding it like Janine and Gregory.”

“I still can’t believe we saw them at the park last week and they didn’t see us,” you chuckle out.

You somehow manage to make it through the week of professional development, and your kids are starting back up before you know it. You’re down the hall in the classroom next to Gregory’s, and Melissa is right across from Janine. It’s a nice little square that the four of your classrooms make. And it’s funny as hell to both you and your girlfriend how obvious they’re being, and yet they somehow still think they’re so subtle.

You, Barbara, Ava, and Melissa all get pulled to do a talking head for one of the camera men. He asks what you think is going on between Janine and Gregory.

“We all know,” the four of you state at once. The four of you continue on to state that you have no idea how they could even think that they’re hiding their relationship- what dumb asses. The four of you aren’t dumb either, but none of you really care. Well, aside from Ava who thinks that it’s an insult to her intelligence. 

The four of you go to leave the hall from your interview, only for the camera crew to keep Barbara behind. Ava tosses her hair and saunters off while you and your girlfriend just smile at each other before parting ways.

“Are there any other changes that you’ve noticed over the summer?” he asks the kindergarten teacher.

Barb glances around to make sure no one is listening before leaning in just slightly. “Melissa and Y/N? Ooh, they are playing the same game that Gregory and Janine are. And I have a feeling… Gregory and Janine aren’t the only two who got it together that night at the end of the year party. Hmm.” She points to the two of you- you leaning against Melissa’s doorframe.

The camera quickly pans over to the two of you, and you don’t know it… but you and your girlfriend are just as bad as your counterparts. 

TAGS: @schemmentis @thesapphictimelady @marvel210 @itisdoctortoyousir @morgana-larkin @doesthatsuggestanythingtoyou @marvels--slut @sweetcheeksschemmenti @megamultifandomtrashposts @lemz378 @http-sam @melissaschemmentisbranzino @imaginesmultifandoms @sexysapphicshopowner @lilfartbox1 @maybe-a-humanbean @imlike-so-gaydude @a-queen-and-her-throne @notinmyvocab @melanielaufeyson @dvrkhcld @cosmichymns @sasheemo @m1lflov3rrr @ricejucie @temilyrights @emilynissangtr @squinnchy @dopenightmaretyphoon @emeraldoceansstuff @shinyfaerielights  @blkmxrvel @marvelwomenrule @sarahjohannson @casualfoxwitch @babytakeittothehead

[pinkslipxox]

Hey! I have a request. But please ignore this if you want to, I did see your last post saying how you have alot of requests at the moment! So please don't ever feel like you need to write this okay? Just something basic, pregnant reader is really struggling to fall asleep because baby girl won't stop kicking her mama. Billie wakes up and just rubs her belly and gives us reassurance. She even tries to make us laugh by having a "talk" with the baby telling her to stop hurting her mama or mommy's not gonna be happy. We find it hilarious. We end up falling asleep to billie spooning up and rubbing out stomach and gently rubbing the top of our head because she knows that helps us fall asleep.

- but thank you so so much for taking the time to read this. Once again, please don't write this if you don't want to! I love ya 🫶🏻

Hey there my love! Hope you like it! Thank you so much for your kindness and understanding 🥰

————————————————-——————————

A soft whimper escapes your lips as you feel your unborn daughter move about inside your womb. You’ve been trying so hard to fall asleep, but to no avail. Of course, it is always a joy and relief to you whenever you feel your baby kick, but it seems that she’s picked the worst part of the day— well, night in the case— to be active.

You carefully sit yourself up straighter, breathing slowly in and out just as your doctor had suggested a few days ago, praying that you don’t wake up your sleeping wife. Despite knowing that Billie wouldn’t mind if you woke her up, you feel bad at the thought of doing so. She’s been working so hard when it comes to balancing work and taking care of you, and you know that she needs her rest as much as you do.

“Please let Mama sleep,” you murmur softly as you run your belly in attempt to calm your daughter. Just then, you feel a hand touch your shoulder. Your wife has woken up.

“Y/N? Is everything alright?” Billie asks, her voice groggy yet full of concern.

“She won’t stop kicking, Billie,” you whimper, wincing as you feel another strong kick. “And it hurts. All I want to do is sleep.”

“How can I help, my love?” Billie offers as she gently rubs your swollen belly.

“Can you please get another pillow for my back?” you request and Billie nods.

“Yes, of course,” she replies and kisses your forehead before hurrying off to find the pillow. She comes back a moment later and helps you lean forward so that she can put the pillow behind your back.

“Thank you, my love,” you sigh, reveling in the small amount of relief.

“You’re welcome.” Billie rubs your baby bump, her ocean blue eyes looking into yours with such tenderness and love. “I know it’s hard, sweetheart. You’re doing such an amazing job. Soon we’ll have our little girl, and she’s going to be just as beautiful as you.”

“Oh, Billie,” you murmur, tears swelling in your eyes. “You’re the sweetest.”

“Only for my girls,” Billie chuckles softly before pressing a kiss to your belly. “Damn, she’s having a party in there!”

“Of course— she’s your daughter, after all,” you tease with a smirk and Billie sticks her tongue out playfully at you.

“Hmm, I wonder…” Billie muses with a playful gleam in her eyes. She then makes a fist with her hand and taps on the imaginary microphone in her hand. “Hello? Is this thing on? Can you hear Mommy, baby girl?”

You can’t help but stifle a laugh. Then, at the feel of your daughter kicking her again, you tell her, “She can hear you loud and clear, Bills.”

“Now, baby girl,” Billie begins in a mock-stern voice. “Listen to Mommy. I know how much you think it’s fun to kick your mama like she’s a soccer ball but she needs her rest. And if you don’t stop kicking her by the time I count to three…”

“Billie, oh my God,” you laugh out loud, shaking your head fondly at your wife.

“One… two… three,” Billie counts and the two f you hold your breath.

“I think… it worked,” you breathe in awe and Billie smirks.

“Guess we know who’s her favorite mother,” your wife teases and you gasp, feigning hurt.

“After all I do for you…” you tisk, running your belly. You then smile at Billie. “Thank you for helping, my love. And I’m sorry that I woke you.”

“You have nothing to apologize for, Y/N. We’re in this together,” Billie reassures you and brings your hand up to her lips, kissing it.

“Cuddle us?” you request with a pout and Billie nods with a smile.

Billie helps you lay back down on the bed and once you are comfortable, she cuddles up from behind you, your back pressed against her chest. She wraps her arm under your bump, her thumb gently caressing there, and kisses your temple. You slowly begin to relax under her touch, her fingers gently massaging your scalp just the way you like it.

“Good night, my baby girls,” Billie murmurs softly, and your heart swells.

“Good night, Billie,” you hum as you close your eyes, grateful to have your wife right by your side, no matter what time of day or night.

[insomniakisses]

An eye for an eye | Two

Characters: helaena (main, romantic), Alicent (mentioned, platonic), Aegon (mentioned, platonic) , Aemond (mentioned, platonic)

Reader type: Female omega reader

Warnings / Notes: NSFW / Minors dni, omegaverse au, alpha helaena, she has a penis, cannon typical incest, sister x sister incest, smut, mentions of breeding, breeding kink, mentions of scars and traumatic events, fake eye, mentions of eye injury, hinted depression

Parts: one.

—

“Im so sorry baby” is all she keeps saying kissing your head and carrying you to her chambers. You spend the night there, tucked into her embrace as she holds you swearing to protect you from this day swearing that one day the king will get what he deserves. And praying to the gods for all her children to be safe.

—

It had been 6 years since that night and you hadn’t been the same. Gone was the girl that ran around the gardens with her brothers, rode on dragon back with her sister or sketched the many bugs her sister held. Now you were silent, tucked away in the dark as if afraid of what would happen should someone see you.

Like aemond you had been given an eyepatch, and a gem of your choosing for your eye. But no matter how bright the gem, how beautiful and gleaming or how much the patch concealed your lack of an eye. Nothing hid the scars on the right side of your face though faded, the lines were still visible.

You hated it, hated the sympathetic eyes just as much as the disgusted ones. You were never given a suitor, none having come forward after the loss of your eye or maybe it was that the king never cares enough to get you one.

So you sank into the lonelyness, the darkness of your room. You ate there, slept there and spent your day there. You hardly left. Hardly had visitors. Hardly did anything. It was like your joy had gone.

Aemond understood, at least at the start, but as he aged he grew angry and vengeful. Telling you of his plans to take lucerys’ eye that it HAD to be done. But you didn’t want that, that is the exact mindset and talk that lost you your eye.

Aegon also tried to get you out of your pit of darkness suggesting dragon rides, going drinking but you simply curl up refusing.

Your dragon of course misses your absence having minimal rides and time with you. You find it hard to move on, just like aemond, but your resentment lays in yourself and not a boy.

The boys, of course, weren’t the only ones that tried to bring you out. Your step mother, Alicent, had tried many times and even layed with you when she had time allowing you to curl against her for comfort as she whispered affections.

Them there was Helaena, sweet sweet helaena. Often overlooked by your family but the sweetest and most deserving of love. Often did she come to your room. Not to drag you out of it, but to stay with you. To give you some rest from the dark.

She would sit and silently embroider her bugs, pick up the ones she’d find by the window and mumble to herself occasionally.

At first it bothered you, why wouldn’t she just leave you alone? Couldn’t she see you wanted no one’s company? But today, today was different.

-

You had awoken to a knock and a maid had entered to ready a bath once you were washed and changed you simply sat at the windowsill watching the busy courtyard and staring at the sky when one of the dragons pass by.

Your head turns when the door opens and helaena comes in silently sitting beside you. You let a hot puff of air out and watch her hands work on her latest piece, a moth you believe, the colours having been more subdued than the butterfly she had last done.

The more you watch the more you take in her beauty. It doesn’t come as a shock. You had always known your sister was pretty, as was the way for most born as Targaryens. But looking at her now you really see her.

You reach for some parchment and some chalks staring intently at her side profile, the sun perfectly hitting her loose curls that cascade down her back and shoulders.

You bite your lip as you stare sketching her perfect features the best you can, after all it’s hard to recreate such perfection.

The room is almost silent, filled only by the sounds of chalks on paper and needle and thread through cloth. She finishes her piece after you turning to look at you and gets a glimpse of the parchment and the way your crystal eye sparkles in the sun and you gasp letting out a quiet “no don’t look!” And she freezes confused at why you would deny her such beauty and she continues to stair eyes full of adoration. “You shine the brightest and yet you confine yourself to this darkness” her words are quiet but full of truth and the way she looks at you makes you feel so brave.

You gently reach up to cup her face waiting for a sign of permission and she leans into your touch kissing your palm not caring that the chalk is now on her face and you take a shaky breath before leaning in and her eyes close as your lips barely brush hers and she lets out the cutest neediest moan and leans forward lips following yours as she chases the kiss.

You cant help giggle and you grab her hand leading her to your bed. Standing beside it to kiss her again and her hands make quick work of undressing you, as you undress her, and once your both bare theres an air of shyness.

You shaking reach for her face again and she smiles leaning in for a kiss and gently pushing you onto the bed her body between your legs as you kiss her soft hand caressing your sides as she kisses her way across your face.

“So beautiful” she whispers as she kisses your scars and your eyes flutter shut a soft hum escaping you as her smooth hands caressed your hips.

You whine in need wrapping ur legs round her hips and she hums grabbing her cock and rubbing her tip against your clit moaning.

You pull her down for a kiss and she slips the tip of her cock in, thrusting it in and out refusing to go deeper. She knows you’re unmarried and should remain “pure” but she also cannot help the need to burry herself in you.

She manages a few more shallow thrusts, panting against your jaw occasionally placing a kiss or bite against your soft skin.

“I- I can’t I’m sorry” she whimpers and you don’t realise what is happening till you feel a sharp pain and an uncomfortable stretch. She has buried herself to the hilt. Cock twitching as she spirts her load into you hot thick cum painting your walls as she groans hiding against your neck. Kissing and sucking it in between her needy whines.

Your eyes are screwed shut, legs locked around her waist silently pleeing she stay buried inside you as your own moans and whines of pleasure fill the room as your orgasm takes hopd aided by her thumb eagerly rubbing at your clit.

Its like time stops, nothing either of you can focus on but her seemingly endless cum shooting into you spurt after spurt. Your walls clenching hard around her, milking every drop.

Her hips stutter at the last drops on her load leaks into you and her hips immediately start back up, her hands coming to hold ur legs to your chest as she ruts into you.

Gone is your sweet soft Helaena, replaced by a rough pounding alpha mind only focusing on the feeling of herself buried deep in your heat her tip hitting you so deep it makes your head spin. Her warm cum dripping from you every thrust leaking down her balls and ruining the sheets.

You move one hand to her jaw pulling her into a kiss as she groans deep, both of your moans mixing as her tongue runs against yours. Your other hand moving to rub your sensitive clit legs shaking slightly as the pleasure becomes all too much another orgasm rippling through you.

This time, however, she does slow her hips imstead she quickens her pace slamming rougher and rougher into your cumming once more as she slams her cock deep growling and slapping your hands off when u attempt to push her away.

“Stop! Stop! Please hel, its too much!” Your please are ignored as she seems in some sort of trance. Pulling you lower on the bed towards her moving you into a mating press.

“Can’t.” She groans, “can’t stop.” She whimpers a little her cock past sensitive her cock blushing red as it slams into you again and again. “M’sorry” she moans breath ragged and eyes wide as you both feel her knot start growing and with a final moan she pops her knot.

It slips in with the wettest pop and she gasp yelping when you clench around her hard. Both your eyes rolling back as she gives another big load and your legs shake squirting all over her legs and abs. Her happy trail covered and sticking to her skin causing a needy whine.

“Fuck baby” you whimper as she slumps against you moving your legs to wrap round her waist her cock slipping deeper at the new position.

You both lay there drifting off to sleep contently her cock continuing to twitch and leak cum as her hips grind against you having a mind of their own and she burries her nose in your neck while you rub her back. Neither of you really taking in what you have just done..

[companionjones]

Enemies to Lovers?

Pairing: Geralt of Rivia x Fem!Reader

Fandom: The Witcher (Netflix)

Summary: A Witcher is regularly summoned to your kingdom to take care of a continuous monster problem. What will be your reaction to repeatedly having the Witcher in your castle?

Warnings: SMUT, Cursing

*******

    “I do not trust a hulking beast to ‘protect’ this kingdom, no matter how many times he comes crawling back to us,” you recoiled.

    Your mother spoke. “The Witcher did not come to us. We summoned him because of the unfortunate beacon for monsters our kingdom was built on.” She went on, “We may not...approve of his species; however, we do need help. That...unfortunately...comes in the shape of...What do they call you? The White Wolf?”

    Geralt used his voice for the first time since entering the room. “That is correct, your majesty.”

    Your mother sighed, “Alright. Tomorrow, your hunt for the Striga begins. As for tonight, let us drink and be merry to celebrate the quick return of our peace. Let the party begin!”

    With that, the hall erupted in cheers.

    Your mother turned her gaze back on Geralt and, with detest, extended, “You are welcome to join us, Witcher...just don’t touch anything.”

    You sat back in your throne with your arms folded. You rolled your eyes.

    Once the celebration started, you could only stay for so long before you were so repulsed you had to leave. You went back to your bedchambers.

    About fifteen minutes later, there was a knock at your door, You prayed it wasn’t your mother as you went to answer it.

    Standing on the other side of your door was the White Wolf.

    The two of you stood there for a moment, just looking at each other. Then, you took a step forward and hastily captured his lips with yours.

    Geralt reacted just as passionately: he backed you up so the two of you collided with your door frame. From there, he picked you up bridal-style and carried you into your bedroom. He kicked the door shut behind him.

    “Fuck, I missed you,” Geralt promised as he eyes bore into yours. He laid you on your bed.

    “I guarantee you that I missed you mor--hhnn,” you cut yourself off with a moan when his hand snaked up your dress to palm your drenched cunt.

    Geralt repeated, “I missed you,” he kissed you and went on, “This pretty pussy.” He kissed you again. “The sounds you make.” Geralt leaned down to start sucking on your neck.

    “I hate being mean to you like that,” you told him breathily. Your eyes were closed.

    Geralt started kissing down your neck and chest as he started working off your dress. He took breaks from your skin to remind you, “We have to keep us a secret. You know how your mother will react if she finds out.”

    “Do not bring my mother up now,” you warned, much to Geralt’s amusement. “...But Gods, the things she said to you tonight--” Suddenly, you gasped.

    Geralt had slipped two fingers inside of you.

    You whimpered out his name and gasped again.

    “It’s alright, my love,” Geralt coaxed in his deep voice as he pumped his fingers in and out of you. “Relax. Feel my fingers.”

    “Geralt. Geralt, oh fuck. That feels so good.” One of your hands went to Geralt’s as you held his wrist close to your pussy. You were coming in no time. “Geralt-Geralt!”

    “Sh, shh,” hushed Geralt. He kissed your forehead. “I’ve got you. Cum on my fingers.”

    After you came down, Geralt helped you out of your dress. He then stripped off his shirt.

    You sat up. “I’ll never get tired of seeing this.” You smoothed your hands up his torso to circle your arms around his neck. You used that leverage to pull Geralt down to you.

    Geralt eased off his pants and promptly started grinding at your entrance with his sizeable cock.

    “Come on, honey,” you smirked, “You know you want to.”

    With a smooth smile of his own, Geralt sank into you.

    Your lips were still curled upwards as your jaw went slack.

    Geralt caught your lips in a bruising kiss as he pulled almost the whole way out of you just to thrust all the way back in. He swallowed your initial moan, just as he did each time he sunk into you.

    After some time, you broke off the kiss to warn Geralt in broken words, “Gonna...Gonna...Geralt!” you whined.

    “I know, sweetheart. Me too.” That last part was strained.

    Your eyes rolled to the back of your head and your toes curled as you came. You felt your whole body tense up, then slowly release itself in pulses.

    Geralt released himself inside of you with two powerful thrusts. He grunted as he did so.

    When you opened your eyes, you saw Geralt above you, mixing his breath with yours. He slowly opened his eyes. “I love you.”

    Gently, you reached up to caress his cheek with your thumb. You pulled Geralt down for a slow, languid kiss. After it was over, you returned, “I love you, too.”

*******

Author’s Note: Thank you for reading! Fill up that heart and reblog if you liked it! I would also really appreciate a comment, if you have the time. If you would like to read more, I have more stories over on my page. You should check it out. Have a nice day, night, or whatever time it is for you! <3 <3 <3

[azriels-shadowsinger]

Hi! Can I please request 1 and 16 for Cassian x reader 🥹

“He treats me well-" "Okay good for you." "-but he isn't you."

Cassian x Reader

wc: 1.3k

a/n: so i couldn’t decide how i wanted to combine those 2 different prompts so i’m just writing 2 separate cassian fics i’m sorry. working on the other one right now, but for now here’s this!

warnings: angst, slight suggestiveness at the end

prompt list

Cassian was sick of it. He was sick of watching you date these undeserving males, fall in love with them, and then get your heart broken. Every single time, you run to him to console you. And every single time, he wipes away your tears and assures you that somewhere out there, there is someone who will love you and treat you right. Little do you know, he’s silently praying to the Mother that one day he can be that person for you. Not so silently, he prays that the stupid prick that broke your heart will drown in the Sidra, which usually earns a laugh from you.

Currently, Cassian was trying to keep the irritated expression off of his face as you told him about your most recent date with some new guy.

“He even paid for dinner! How sweet of him, right Cass?” You ask excitedly.

Bare fucking minimum, Cassian thought.

“That’s great y/n.” The words come out a bit more annoyed than intended, making you frown.

“What’s your problem?” You ask.

“Nothing.��� He mutters.

“Bullshit, Cass. Did I do something to piss you off?” You try to think back over the past few hours to remember what you did to upset him, but nothing comes to mind.

“I just don’t really care to hear about yet another male that you think is your one true love, who will inevitably break your heart in a week.” You stare at him, stunned.

“Well, I’m sorry. I didn’t realize I wasn’t allowed to talk about my love life to my best friend.” You argue stubbornly. He lets out a laugh.

“I wouldn’t call getting broken up with every other month a love life, sweetheart.” He regretted the words the moment they left his mouth, but it was too late.

“Fuck you, Cassian.” You storm off before he can even apologize.

———

Unsurprisingly, the new guy ended up being a jerk and stood you up the following evening. You had waited at the restaurant for over an hour, earning apologetic looks from the waitress.

Cassian tried to act casual while he sat on the couch at the House of Wind, waiting for you to return from your date. He picked up some random book that Azriel had left and began scanning the pages when you winnowed home. Cassian can’t help but let his eyes roam over you, admiring your stunning figure accentuated by your dress. As soon as his gaze reaches your face, he notices the tears threatening to spill and stands up immediately. He debates walking over to comfort you with a hug or letting you come to him, still unsure if you are mad at him.

“I don’t want to hear ‘I told you so.’ And I know you don’t want to hear about my dating life anymore, so I’m going to bed.” You rush from the room quickly, leaving Cassian alone once again.

Yeah, you’re definitely still mad. Cassian has to fight the urge to follow you. He knows how your brain spirals in these situations, blaming yourself and doubting your self-worth, all because of a stupid male. He wants so badly to go up to your room and console you. He wants to wipe your tears like always and say some idiotic joke to make you laugh. More than anything, he wants to reassure you that this isn’t your fault. But he can’t, so he just sighs and sits back on the couch, picking up the book again.

———

It had been a few weeks since you and Cassian had a proper conversation, both of you too stubborn break the silence first. There had been a few short exchanges, usually just during training or when others were around, but the tension was apparent to everyone.

Cassian had heard from Mor that Feyre set you up with one of her artist friends, Kallum. He can’t be mad at his High Lady for doing what she thinks is best for her friend, but gods he was pissed about it.

You had gone on several dates with him over the past few weeks. He overheard you telling Feyre about them, describing the romantic gesture that Kallum made recently.

Was this it? Would this be the male who finally stole his best friend from him for good? If this male is a friend of Feyre’s, he must be a good guy.

Cassian hurries past the sitting area, not wanting to be caught eavesdropping, but somehow you catch his eye. He can’t help but notice the flicker of sadness in your stare.

———

After four weeks of stubborn silence, you approach Cassian at training.

“Hey.” He turns to you, surprised.

“Uh, hey y/n.” He notices that you’re picking at your nails, a nervous habit from when you were a kid.

“So, I’m bringing Kallum to dinner tomorrow evening. To meet everyone.” You say awkwardly.

Oh.

“I know you and I are still in a weird place, but can you please be nice? I want to make a good impression and see what everyone thinks of him.” You bit your bottom lip nervously.

“Why do you care what we all think of him?” He huffs.

“Because I care what my family and friends think of the person I’m dating.” You counter defensively.

“Do you really? Or do you need us to like him in order to convince yourself you like him too?” You scowl, but Cassian has that stupid cocky smirk on his face. He’s not wrong, which only pisses you off more. You had tried desperately to like Kallum. He’s a nice guy and he seems to like you a lot, but you just couldn’t find a spark between you two.

“He’s a good guy Cassian!” Your face turns red and you are too flustered to come up with a more clever response.

“If you say so.” Cassian rolls his eyes. You sound like you’re trying to convince yourself, not him.

“He is! He treats me well!” You argue.

“Okay, good for you.” He says sarcastically. You stay silent for a long moment. Cassian turns to leave, not wanting to argue any longer.

“He treats me well…but he isn’t you.” You say softly.

Cassian freezes. Surely, he misheard you. He turns back to face you and is faced with the vulnerable expression on your face.

“Seeing as you don’t seem to want to be my friend anymore, there’s no point in hiding it any longer.” He takes a long stride towards you and takes your face in his hands.

“You’re right. I don’t want to be friends anymore.” Cassian presses his lips to yours, kissing you deeply. You melt into his touch and tangle your fingers in the hair at the nape of his neck. The kiss quickly turns heated, and you let out a soft moan. Cassian pulls away, and you give him a confused look.

“As much as I want to continue this, sweetheart, I plan to take you to dinner first. I want to show you how you deserve to be treated on a date.” He leans in close, brushing his lips over the shell of your ear. “And then maybe I can show you how you deserve to be treated in bed as well.” Your face turns bright red, and you nod. Cassian lets go of you, but you pull him in for another kiss, this one lasting a bit longer than the last.

“I should probably go break up with Kallum.” You giggle between kisses. Cassian growls at the mention of another male’s name and pulls you closer.

“That is the last breakup you are ever going to have. I’ve waited 500 years for this, I’m sure as hell not going to mess it up.”

Feel free to keep requesting prompts :-)

prompt list

[spacebaby1]

Hii I saw your post where you said you wanted ansgt ideas for sukuna. You can make one where sukuna acts like she despises you (when in reality she loves you but can't stand the idea that I love you) you have never understood but you don't care. And one night you show up at her house in the early morning because the situation at your house had gotten violent (reader's father is abusive). Sorry this is very long 😭

This is about to hit home for me! I live for protective Sukuna. Enjoy!!

Your father had a ticking temper ever since your mother left him; one minute he'll be laughing and talking the next he'll start screaming and throwing things. Today wasn't different but what made it worse is that your classmate Sukuna wouldn't stop bothering you all the day. You didn't know what to do; thinking about how your father got mad last night at you for being a minute late with his dinner or deal with Sukuna bothering you, either ways you just ignored him.

When you got home you father wasn't there which was a relief and you prayed that he should just sleep somewhere out at his friend's house which he did sometimes and you were happy that tonight will be the same. You were in your room going through you instagram when a text popped up on your screen. It was Sukuna and him sending some hateful text which you ignored and went on scrolling om your phone.

It was around 3 am when you heard the door open and shut making you jump at the loud thud and you phine ringing made you flinch; Sukuna was calling, probably to annoy you and you didn't answer. Few minute later you heard shouting and screams of your father and things being thrown on the wall. Your heart dropped and immediately you ran downstairs trying to stop your father from throwing things around at your mothers framed picture. He grabbed you by the hair making your phone fall from your hand and accidentally answer to Sukuna's call. Sukuna was about to go off on you probably to mock you when he heard your painful screaming from the other side of the call, "what the hell you yelling like that?" He tried to not panic when you didn't answer but kept on screaming and crying because of your father grabbing your hair and hitting you, "P-please stop, you're hur-hurt-" you cried but your father kept screaming at you and holding you by the hair. Sukuna's heart dropped when he heard your father voice.

Jumping out of his couch Sukuna rushed out of the door and ran towards your house which was few hours from his.

He could hear the voices of your cries when he approached your house and thanked God that the door was unlocked. Sukuna rushed inside the house pushing your father away causing you both to fall. "You son of a bitch!" Sukuna picked your father by his collar and punched him till he was unable to stand. Sukuna rushed to your side as you were struggling to get up from the pain in your head while crying, "hey, hey. Let me see," Sukuna gently looked at your head and saw you bleeding a bit, you looked at him and he saw your brushed face and bleeding nose. He felt rage as he got up one more time to kick your father over and over until you cried for him to stop. Immediately Sukuna stopped and sat next to you, "Come on, I'll take you to hospital. Can you stand?" You shook your head still sobbing. "It's okay sweetie, I got you." He picked you up carried you out of the house.

Sukuna stood by your side as the nurse patched you up, he was angry and bitting on his nails. The cut on your lips, your bloody nose and the mark on your cheek made him want to go back and bear your father once again, "take this painkiller, it will help with the headache. Nothing to be worried about but we need you to stay here for the night, we need to do few checkups in case of broken bones or muscle fracture, okay?" The nurse told you as you nodded feeling your eyes heavy.

"S-sukna, you should go home, it's la-"

"The hell I'm not!" He sat beside you on the bed looking mad but not at you and you knew that. You placed your hand over his, "Thank you, Sukuna." You whispered laying your head on his shoulder to which he just hummed only to hear your soft snoring; you fell asleep on his shoulder.

Carefully he laid your head on the pillow and went to shut the door so the outside noise won't wake you up. He came back and sat on the chair next to the bed but he couldn't get comfortable. His feet accidentally hit the bed making you flinch in your sleep and you groaned in pain and was about to cry in your sleep when Sukuna jumped off the chair. Caressing your head softly, "Shhh, sorry sweetheart. Shhh go back to sleep." He whispered.

You moved to your side, holding on to his hoodie, and slowly calmed down, eventually falling asleep and holding on to him tightly. Carefully he got on the bed beside you and held you close, making sure to not hurt you as he kept on caressing your hair softly, "you don't need to worry anymore, I'm here, I'm so so sorry baby," he whispered placing a small kiss on your forehead, "I'm here for you, I'm gonna kill that man with my bare hands if he dare to touch you." You sighed in your sleep and snuggled closer to him.

[ziggyzolch]

Queen Bee-atch Ⅷ (Regina George x Reader)

Warnings: hospital. i think thats it.

✮✮✮

Mechanical whirring and beeping with the sound of Regina’s leg bouncing filled the waiting room. It was coming up to 6 hours since they’d taken you in for surgery.

“Can you stop?” Janis snaps at Regina, who rolls her eyes.

“I’m not complaining about how disgusting it is that you’re picking at your nails in public!” Regina retorts, but stops her leg bouncing anyways.

The tension was palpable, almost unbearable.

After a moment of silence, Regina’s leg starts again.

 “God!” Janis gets up to walk away, when she bumps into someone. “Janis!” Your mom gives your friend a hug, “Where’s my daughter?” Janis scratches the back of her head. “She’s in that room,” She points, “But they aren’t letting us in yet.” Your mom raises an eyebrow, “Us? Is Damien here?” Janis steps to the side, revealing Regina behind her. 

“Oh. Hello.” She doesn’t offer the same warmth as she did with Janis. Regina awkwardly waves and introduces herself, internally cursing at herself at how lame she was being.

Your mother turns back to Janis with a smile, saying something in Arabic. Janis stares while Regina attempts to hold in her laugh. 

“What?” 

Your mothers smile falters, “Aren’t you Lebanese?” Regina bursts out in laughter, covering her mouth at Janis’s glare. “Uh, no. I’m a lesbian. Your daughter misheard me.” 

A look of realization crosses over your mothers face before she recovers, “No matter, let’s sit, yes?” She places a hand on Janis’s shoulder, guiding her to take a seat next to her while she sat in between her and Regina.

Regina was shocked at how calm your mother was for a woman whose daughter had her leg snapped in half. Even Janis was freaking out. 

“So, Regina, how do you know my daughter?” 

Janis answers, “She bullied her for like two years.” 

Regina attempts to lean over your mother to slap Janis's leg.

Your mothers jaw clenches, “So why, pray tell, are you waiting for her looking like you’re about to soil yourself?”

Your mother’s tone was accusatory, making Regina stumble over her words. She takes a breath, glares at Janis then starts, “It’s true, I was horrible. But I have since made up for it!” 

 “Hm.” Your mother grabs a magazine from the little cupboard next to the couch, effectively ending the conversation.

“How are you so calm? No offense.” Janis asks after a couple seconds of silence.

Your mother sighs, placing the magazine down. 

“My daughter is not a…careful person. She’s been in the ER more times than I can count.”

 Regina chimes in, worry evident in her voice, “Why?” 

The woman smiles, making Janis and Regina look at each other in confusion,

“Have you girls not seen how clumsy she is? Last week, I watched her bump into two different walls 5 seconds within each other.”

The conversation is interrupted by a doctor peeking his head out of the room you were in, announcing to them that they could now enter. The first thing they hear when they go in is your laughing, 

“Hey, Breakfast Club.” 

They all groan, refusing to laugh at your joke. Regina approaches you first, sitting on the edge of the hospital bed and caressing your cheeks, “Poor baby. How are you feeling?” 

Your mother raises an eyebrow at Regina’s behavior, but doesn’t say anything.

 “I’m chilling. I could take over the world, probably.” You start giggling as the doctor walks up to you, writing something down on his clipboard.

“The surgery went well. We’ll keep her here overnight to monitor for any infection.” 

Your moms eyes widen, “Can someone tell me what happened exactly?”

You sluggishly turn your head towards your mother, “I saved the universe.”

 The woman rolls her eyes, taking a seat on the other side of the bed. Janis gives her a run down of what happened, while Regina’s eyes stay fixed on you. 

“It was an open tibia fracture, so it’ll take her 6-12 months to fully heal.” The doctor says before exiting the room.

“She’s gonna be a huge pain in the ass for the next 6-12 months.” Janis jokes, walking towards your bed. You flip her the bird, laughing when Regina and your mother reprimand you at the same time.

Your smile drops when your mom gets up, “Where are you going?” Your mother sighs, checking her phone and adjusting her jacket, “I have a work thing. Janis, I trust you to keep her entertained. Regina,” She looks her up and down, “I trust that you won’t let her jump in front of any more buses.” Your mother ignores Regina's sputtering, making her way out.

You roll your eyes when you hear her on a phone call the second the door closes behind her. “What a byotch.”

✮✮✮

It’s been an hour since you fell asleep, Regina and Janis had refused to leave you alone, and the tension was back. They hadn't made eye contact since your mother left, despite sitting opposite each other on either side of you.

Janis’s phone ringing broke the uncomfortable silence. She sighs and answers her phone,

“Hey Damien, yeah she’s okay…” Janis exits the room for the rest of the call, not wanting to wake you up. Regina looks down at your clammy forehead, moving your baby hairs to the side. “Idiot.” She mumbles with a smile.

Janis walks in to find Regina placing a kiss on your forehead. She rolls her eyes, announcing her presence by pushing the door closed harder than necessary.

 Regina pulls away, opting to hold your hand instead. “How did this even happen?” Janis questions as goes back to her place on the bed. Regina raises an eyebrow,

“Uh, bus?” 

Janis groans, “No, how did you guys happen.” 

Regina lets out a breath, “I…honestly don’t know. She’s too forgiving for her own good.” 

Janis scoffs before Regina corrects herself, “No! What I mean is...I did everything to make up for it, but I feel like it wasn’t enough for her to forgive me y’know?.”

Janis sighs, nodding, “I sat on her old guitar once by accident and broke the neck, she refused to let me pay for a new one. Even paid for food after.”

She looks away, “I’m sorry, for the whole scheming thing, by the way.”

Regina huffs out a laugh, “I guess we’re even now.”

✮✮✮

“Honey, are you sure you can go to the school from here?” Your mother asked as she helped you out of the car, handing you your crutches and adjusting your dress. “Yeah, Regina said she’d pick me up from here, either way I could just get an uber.” You reassured her, adjusting yourself on your crutches. Your mother looks at you for a moment before slapping her hands together awkwardly, “Alright. Stay at Regina's tonight, yeah? I have a date coming over.”

You watch her drive away before making your way into the building. This place was a maze! After wandering around aimlessly for a while, you finally made it to your destination. Ignoring the stares, you took your seat in the audience. Watching the two teams solve math questions faster than you could comprehend was surprisingly entertaining. Cady and a girl you couldn't care less about approach the stands at the front of the stage. Your heart beats wildly as you watch Cady stand in silence while everyone leans forward in anticipation.

“The limit does not exist!”

You cheer loudly, using your crutches to pull yourself up. Cady looks up to find you attempting to raise an arm up in celebration. She raises both thumbs at you, laughing when you almost fall over. She bids goodbye to the team, walking towards the exit.

“What are you doing here?” Cady says as you slowly approach her at the doors.

“I figured you’d want some support. Also Kevin posted that he had a ‘mega hot chick’ in his team on his story. Figured it was you.”

Cady huffs out a laugh, walking with you towards the parking lot.

 “Janis told me what happened while I was gone, by the way,” Cady’s smile drops. You’re quick to reassure her, “Hey, it isn’t the end of the world!” You adjust your crutches to pat her on the shoulder, “Have you seen the way these people move from one gossip to another? You’ll be fine.” Cady smiles, eyebrows scrunching in thought, “Thank you. When did you get so wise?”

You blink, “Since I got hopped up on painkillers, babeh.”

Cady’s laugh stops at the sight of Regina’s trademark convertible. “Come on, losers!” Regina parks her car, getting out to help you into the passenger seat and placing your crutches in the trunk. Cady stays in her place before Regina rolls her eyes, walking up to her and lightly pushing her towards the backseat. “Don’t be weird. I made a promise to be nice, don’t make it any harder on me.” Regina says while getting back in the driver’s seat.

“You look beautiful,”

Regina blushes at your compliment, leaning over to place a kiss on your cheek, “Flatterer.”

She buckles you in before herself, then starts driving. You were about to ask Cady about life since taking blame for the burn book, when you catch her leaning her head out the car, letting the wind blow through her hair. You decide to let her be.

✮✮✮

You were in the bathroom with Cady, the door muffling the horrible music playing at the dance as you attempted to pull out your eyeliner. Regina ordered her to stay with you while she went to make up with Gretchen and Karen, despite your reassurances that you’d be fine. 

“I’m sorry you’re stuck with me.” You say, groaning when you drop your eyeliner. 

Cady goes to pick it up, “You’re the least mad at me, I’d rather it be you than anyone else.” 

You attempt to shrug, “True. I’m bad at holding grudges.” You shuffle around awkwardly, “Can you help me with my mascara?” She smiles at you, nodding.

“You gonna talk to Janis?” Cady’s smile falters slightly,

“Yeah, I guess I have to.”

“Don’t worry,” You pause until she finishes the first eye, “Janis holds grudges hardcore-”

“Oh great.”

“But! She’s chill after an apology.”

Cady finishes up with your other eye before capping and placing your mascara in your handbag. “We’ll see. You really do look beautiful, by the way.”

You offer her a half-smile, “I’m on crutches with an ugly, obnoxious, lime green cast,”

She picks at a loose thread on her jacket, “I’m sorry,”

You shrug, “No need, I basically broke my own leg. Also, I’m on way too many painkillers right now to care.”

The conversation is interrupted by Damien storming in, 

“Hey! Regina told me you were in here. Come on! They're announcing the queen-" Damien catches sight of Cady, "Oh, hello.” 

Cady shuffles on her feet. You roll your eyes and nudge her to walk with you as Damien rushes back out.

You follow Damien to the front of the crowd, using your crutches to push people out of the way. Cady had opted to stay at the back, not wanting to bring attention to herself. 

Regina spots you from the stage and blows you a kiss. You’re attempting to conceal the blush on your face when someone smacks your back. “Ow! What the fuck, Janis.”

Janis laughs, adjusting her tie, “Looking good dude, your cast lowkey ruins it though.”

 You sigh, “Yeah, they shouldn’t have let me pick the color. I was high and thought it’d be funny.” 

You look at Damien and Janis, “You both look dapper, by the way. Straight out of a 60’s sitcom.”

Your attention turns towards Principal Duvall as he announces the winners. You pretend to gag when Shane Oman wins, making Regina crack a smile. 

Her smile drops when Cady’s name is announced. Janis laughs when she catches Cady squinting at the harsh spotlight shining on her, making you nudge her shin with your crutch in warning.

“Woo! Cady!” 

Janis and Damien roll their eyes at your cheering. You smile throughout her whole speech, laughing when Damien dramatically gasps at her breaking the crown and handing the pieces out. 

Regina winks at you and shows off her piece of the crown, making you giggle until you feel something bounce off your forehead.

 “Shit! Sorry…” Cady mumbles.

She finishes off her speech and approaches your group. “Hey, so…are we still in a fight?”

“Are you still an asshole?”

“I don’t think so?”

Janis smiles, “Then we’re good”

You bounce to the best of your ability, “I am over the moon-”

“Alright-” Janis holds you up when you almost topple over.

“Over the moon.” You repeat.

Your glance behind Cady, “Hey, I think someone’s waiting for you.”  She glances behind you, “You too.” 

You turn to find Regina smiling warmly at you, “Hey,”  You hobble over to her, “Hey, yourself.” 

She looks at your crutches, trying to figure out how to dance with you when an idea pops into her head. You screech, dropping your crutches as she lifts you to wrap your legs around her, holding the bottoms of your thighs. 

“Regina!” She smirks, ignoring you and spinning around. You tuck your head into her neck, mumbling. Regina slows, switching to slowly swaying you, “What was that, baby?”

You lift your head up, “You’re my favorite person.”

Regina’s smile is impossibly wide as she leans in to kiss you. You pull away when you hear Janis yell at you to ‘Get a room!’, catching your breath while Regina lightly rubs her nose against yours.

“Hey guys, I broke a spotlight, we gotta dip.” You barely process what Janis says before you catch her and Damien sprinting out of the school. You turn back to Regina, giggling when she attempts to pick up your crutches while holding you.

 Cady catches her struggling and walks up to you, her man-candy walking alongside her. Regina lets out a breath of relief when they offer to help. Aaron holds you up as Regina places you down to pick up your crutches and hand them to you. 

“Thanks.” You smile up at Aaron. 

“No problem, Gerard.”

Cady and Regina laugh when you turn to them, wide eyed. “I’m sorry babe, I used it once around them and it stuck.” You groan, “Ugh, let’s just go.”

✮✮✮

“Okay. How’s the weather right now? Don’t look up!” You were all gathered in Regina’s backyard, sitting in a circle. Karen keeps her eyes trained on you as she pushes her boobs together. You raise your eyebrows in amusement. “It’s like, kind of cloudy a little.” You glance at the sky, giving her a thumbs up when it is, in fact, ‘like, kind of cloudy a little’.

Regina pokes your stomach, making you giggle and everybody else roll their eyes. You raise an eyebrow at Cady and Aaron. “What are you guys annoyed about? You’re basically having sex in front of us right now.” 

Cady’s face goes red as Aaron barks out a laugh, “She’s literally just on my lap, you were the one face-fucking Regina.” It’s your turn to blush as Regina laughs, crossing her legs and pulling you into her lap.

She hands you a toaster strudel from the snack tray, looking away and blushing when you moan at the taste, “God these are so good,”

 Gretchen perks up, “My father invented those, y’know.”

“Yes, Gretchen, we know.” You slap Regina’s thigh. She sighs and apologizes to Gretchen, unable to stop her eyes from rolling to the back of her head.

“We’re back!” Damien and Janis come out of the house, holding guitars behind their backs. 

You angle your body slightly to face Regina. “You have two fucking guitars!” She laughs as Janis hands you one, plopping down next to you while Damien hands her the other one.

You signal to Janis to start playing something, you’d follow along. You let her strum for a while, eye brows furrowed trying to figure out what song she’s playing. She must've adjusted it to be playable on acoustic or something.

Damien seems to catch on before you as he starts singing,

“When I was…a young boy…”

Everybody starts laughing. This nickname was going to be the death of you.

You start reluctantly strumming along with Janis as Damien's singing intensifies. Regina sways you slightly, shocking you when she joins in on the singing.

You stop in the middle of the song, using 'overexertion' as an excuse.

You put the guitar aside as Janis and Damien get up to bow, while the rest start filing into the house.

You twist your body around, making Regina adjust her position so you could straddle her. “You’re more emo than me, Blondie.” She gasps dramatically, “I don’t think so, Gerard-"

 “I love you.”  

Regina giggles, “You’re such a lesbian.” 

You groan, hiding your face in the crook of her neck. She tuts, lifting your chin up,

“I love you too.”

✮✮✮

A/N: That's the end! Thank you so so sos sososososososos much for reading. sorry if i bungled the medical stuff, so tired didnt proofread. anyways, I might do one-shots for this universe, or other stuff if you guys have requests. but thats it for now! I hope you enjoyed reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it. <3 <3

Tag list: @itzyyyyyydaaaaaa @modernsapphicism @cheesysoup-arlo @ladyqueenxoxo @charleeeesworld

[sashaisready]

Since You've Been Gone: Chapter 3

Bucky Barnes x Reader

Series Masterlist

After a regrettable first meeting in the cemetery, you discover that you have something in common with a certain member of the Avengers. Unfortunately, you can't choose your neighbours, even in death.

(Setting is approx. post TFATWS)

Hi all, sorry for the delay with this – I ran out of steam a little with this story so I’ve decided to leave it as a mini series. Maybe I’ll come back to it in future and expand but for now I’ve run out of road and am lacking inspiration in where to take it – so this will be the final part. Thanks for reading! As always, reblogs and comments are appreciated.

You sat within the safe walls of your apartment, watching the rain batter the windows outside. It had been raining all day, far heavier than the city was used to at this time of year. Thank god you’d been working from home today, commuting would’ve been a bitch. You peered outside to watch the small flood in the parking lot beneath your window. Water steadily rose as it licked the bottom of car tyres, and you prayed that would be the worst of it.

You’d been anxious all day as you watched it get worse out there, watched the puddles spread and the flower baskets soak. You kept thinking about the cemetery, how the grave might be faring in these conditions. The hardy stone would be alright of course, but what about the candle holder? The ornaments? The flowers?

It would all probably be fine, normally bad weather did little else but move a few things around at the gravesite…but you couldn’t remember the last time it was this bad. It made you nervous thinking about it as the wind picked up.

It wasn’t like you could go check it out now, driving in this mess would be a nightmare and a death wish.

You moved away from the window and made yourself a cup of herbal tea as you tried to think about something else. Anything else.

So, you thought of Bucky.

You weren’t really sure how it had happened, how he had weaved his way into your head. Initially he had just been the guy at the cemetery, the one you tiptoed around after you’d inadvertently pissed him off that first time you met. He was there doing his thing; you were there doing yours. Sure, he was handsome. But you hadn’t really given him much thought beyond that. Although you had thought it was nice to have some actual flesh and blood company out there for a change – even if he was just as quiet as the permanent residents of the cemetery.

But ever since the incident with that obnoxious man with the phone a few days ago, he’d been creeping in more and more. You didn’t know why; you barely knew him. But he often popped into your head when you least expected it. His big blue eyes…the slight poutiness to his lips….the way his hair framed his face-

A loud crack of thunder shook you from your thoughts.

You winced as you sipped your tea, flinching at the lightning bolt that followed. The weather was kicking up a gear.

You turned away from the window, taking brief comfort in the warmth of the mug in your hands. Your mother used to say there was no point worrying about things you couldn’t control; they’d still happen regardless of how you felt about it. Which was true…but you could never brush things off in same the breezy way that she always had. You often thought she’d have something similar to say about you visiting them. ‘You should be out there living! Not worrying about us! We aren’t going anywhere!’ you could practically hear in your head. Although sometimes it was hard to remember how her voice sounded. And you knew it would only get harder to hear it as time continued its relentless march…

You were sure everything would be fine.

…But you’d go visit the cemetery the second the weather improved. Just to be sure.

🍂

The rain continued all night. Your sleep was broken and stolen by the continuous thunder. Frequent lightning flashes had illuminated your entire bedroom and forced you awake each time you had drifted off. Even without that going on, you weren’t sure if you would’ve managed to rest, the anxiety churned and churned in your stomach as you worried about what you’d find when you got to the cemetery. At least it was the weekend, and you didn’t have to drag yourself into work in this state.

Logically, you knew you were overreacting. It wouldn’t come as a shock if anyone had told you that. Your parents would not be disturbed by the rain, their stone was built to withstand far more than some rough wind and water. Everything else at the site didn’t matter in the big scheme of things – some flowers, a few ornaments – nothing expensive, nothing irreplaceable.

But you’d put so much effort into maintaining it.

You hadn’t been able to control your parents’ deaths, but you could control their gravesite. Not the weather of course – but you could maintain it, bring flowers for it, keep it nice and neat. Grief often meant chaos, but this was something orderly and manageable that you could oversee.

Most of the time, anyway.

You woke up feeling groggy, almost like a hangover, but were relieved to see the rain had finally stopped. You rushed through your morning routine, showering, dressing and then shovelling down breakfast, practically running out of the door with your car keys in hand.

The drive over was tense, the anxiety heavy in your belly like a stone as you got closer to finding out what awaited you.

You parked up and dashed through the cemetery, hugging your coat close to your body as you zipped closer to your section. You were disheartened to see a few branches had fallen off trees along the way, petals from different flowers strewn across the grass. It didn’t fill you with confidence.

As the grave came into your eyeline, you were surprised to see Bucky already there - hunched over and moving rapidly. You couldn’t work out what he was doing from that distance.

As you drew closer, you realised he was crouched over your parents’ grave. You stiffened, unable to grasp what was going on.

He must’ve sensed you coming as he suddenly stood up and turned to face you. His large body stood like a shield between you and the grave as you tried to peer past him. You could see the concern written all over his expression.

“Hey, hey…it’s okay…but…” he warned gently, his blue eyes somehow still intense but softer than you’d ever seen them.

You attempted to manoeuvre him out of the way, stressed now as your heart pounded in your chest. What was he trying to keep from you? Of course you were fruitless, it was like trying to move a brick wall. He grabbed your arm with his gloved hand and held it tightly, but not painfully, to still you. You were surprised at the swell of comfort his touch brought, but you were too worked up to really let it calm you.

“There’s been some damage from the storm…but it’s okay…” he told you cautiously.

“Just let me see…” you practically hissed, your eyes welling with tears.

He sighed in defeat and reluctantly stepped aside, dropping the hold from your arm.

You gasped as he revealed the grave. The flowers were ruined, ripped apart by the storm and strewn about, countless petals littered across the plot. The little vase you’d kept them in had fallen in the wind and cracked against the headstone, shards splintered along the glass. The candle holder had met a similar fate, the ornaments no longer resembled what they had originally. The whole thing was a complete mess. Worse than you had imagined.

“Oh!” you whispered in shock as you knelt over the debris, not even sure how to start cleaning up this mess. Your heart sank entirely. You knew it was an overreaction, but it almost felt like you’d let your parents down somehow. Even though none of it was your fault, and they surely wouldn’t care even if they’d been here. You picked up the broken candle holder and held it up futilely, as if it would somehow magically come back together.

“I…I have some garbage bags in my car. I’ll get one,” Bucky said quietly.

He disappears, although you barely notice. You’re back on your feet again, your eyes flitting over to the Barnes’ plot. The flowers Bucky had previously laid against the stones were wrecked just like yours, but that was the extent of the damage. That’s because he was sensible and didn’t cover the graves in stupid, breakable trinkets like you did.

You felt a wave of self-loathing wash through you and found yourself unable to look at the mess any longer. You stomped away quickly; your eyes squeezed shut. You practically ran back to your car and started the ignition before you fully knew what you were doing. Suddenly you had driven home, and you were back at your apartment. You managed to fight back the tears until you were home and safely behind closed doors, embarrassed to be crying over something so silly.

After some time had passed and you wiped your eyes, you had a horrible realisation of Bucky’s last words to you – he was going to get a garbage bag for you! And you’d run off! God, he must think you’re a total freak. Mentally unstable. Or incredibly rude, at the very least.

You sighed, taking a deep breath. No more of this. Time to put on your big girl pants and woman up. Bucky was trying to help, and you’d run away like a spooked rabbit. Seeing the grave in that state was upsetting, yes, but it was fixable. There would always be more flowers and more candles. Like you’d already told yourself, your parents weren’t exactly going to be disturbed by a little rain.

You’d had your little wallow, but action was the best solution.

You checked the time. Bucky would be long gone by now, but maybe you could leave him a little note apologising for rushing off. You felt embarrassed about how you’d behaved, trying to push by him to get to the grave when he was only trying to help. You felt like you were always fumbling, always doing the wrong thing in front of him. But then…you felt like that in front of a lot of people.

You grabbed your kit plus a few extra supplies and headed back to the cemetery. You knew yourself well enough to know that staying home and doing something else would only mean your mind drifted back to it later. Get it done, then you can move on.

You drove back over to the cemetery, better prepared this time. Or so you thought. As you approached the grave, you certainly weren’t prepared for what you found.

“Bucky?” you asked with disbelief.

He was still there, hunkered over your parents’ plot. As he stood you gasped, the candle holder was in his hand – now completely intact.

“I always keep superglue in the trunk of my car so…” he trailed off sheepishly.

As he stepped aside, he revealed the similarly repaired vase at his feet, and one of the ornaments. You just stared at them open-mouthed.

“I couldn’t save them all, I’m sorry,” he continued, “but at least some of it is salvaged. And I put aside the broken stuff for you in case you wanted it as a keepsake or something”.

“You…you did all that?” you whispered, “for…me?”

He shrugged again like it was nothing. “Well…yeah. I know how much this place means to you…and I was a total jerk the first time we met. Walt up at the office told me last week that you had taken care of my parents’ graves, but I’d just assumed it was the staff here. And here was me thinking you were messing around with it. I was out of line. So, the least I could do was…” he nodded over to the recently repaired objects.

You were unable to hold back your smile, the grin stretching across it lighting up your entire face. You rushed forward, enveloping Bucky in a bear hug. “Thank-you,” you whispered to him.

He stumbled slightly in surprise at the sudden contact but caught himself and let out a light-hearted chuckle, “yeah…you’re welcome”.

He hugged you back, and the two of you just stayed like there for a while. You both allowed yourselves a moment of comfort in the other, both orphans, both grieving in different ways and mourning different lives, but still connected by bereavement and feeling untethered after losing your roots and foundations. The…friendship, could you say? That had developed between the two of you over these last couple of months had been a surprise, but it was certainly welcomed.

You both pulled apart, slightly embarrassed, when you spoke again.

“I’m sorry I got upset…it’s dumb I know, they’re just silly stuff. You didn’t have to do all of that…”

“No,” he cut you off. “It’s not dumb. It’s important to you, you put a lot of work into this place. It’s okay to be sad about it”.

You nodded, smiling at him. It was such a relief that he just got it. He understood.

“Would you…uh…” he cleared his throat, “…maybe wanna get a cup of coffee with me, sometime? Maybe meet somewhere outside of a cemetery. With living people. You know..if you want to…”

You beamed ear to ear, “yeah. Yeah, I do want to”.

THE END

[towards-toramunda]

Thinking about more iconic lines from the show over the years instead of going to bed and created a list that is far too long:

- What’s my mother’s name?

- My best. Finally.

- I have so many flowers to bring to her.

- You were not born with venom in your veins. You learned it. You learned it.

- Don’t get on my ass about it! All I heard is that its pretty easy to do here thats all I took from what you said. (Bonus: its for the god of arts and crafts)

- At dawn, we plan.

- Doo doot doo doo doot doooo donuts!

- What matters more, the dream or the dreamer?

- Sleep well with your bad decisions.

- Nothing happens for a reason. It’s absolute fucking chaos.

- Patience is fine, but it can curdle into apathy.

- I’ve met the devil, thats not him.

- You never take copper. That's just kicking someone while they're down. You take silver if they're an asshole, and you take gold regardless.

- Time is one of my specialties.

- It’s entirely off-putting how disarmingly charming you are.

- How lucky I am to have had all of you. How lucky indeed.

- I smell like a crayon.

- I could tell by the bone structure and the contempt.

- I think I can punch ghosts now.

- Big moon, little moon.

- Pop, pop!

- I need chaos. I have faith in chaos.

- Molly said not to steal from happy people.

- I am going to tell you the story of how I murdered my mother and father.

- Smiley day to ya!

- I killed my family, I’ll throw you under a bridge.

- We’re on the moon bitch.

- She throws it. I shoot it. It explodes! NO STRUCTURAL DAMAGE! (FLUFFERNUTTER)

- I am all for faith, and I'm not going to pick a god. They can pick me. It'll be the first one that actually praises me and then maybe I'll fucking answer. I'll wait. They can fucking beg. And I will listen, which is more than they ever fucking did.

- I would like to RAGE!

- The worst thing that has happened to me has already happened.

- We're running; it's bad.

- You can reply to this message.

- Dagger, dagger, dagger.

- Opinions are like opera. Sure, you can listen to them, but why would you, really?

- There is no god that strides this world that I worship more than I worship your heart.

- I would like to live long enough to be someone else.

- Help, its again.

- Whoever it was, just put it back. I think they've earned it. Put it back.

- I’m fun scary.

- Sorry, babe. Gotta handle these ninjas.

- I’m the cleric? I’ve never traveled with a bunch of people I thought would die in front of me.

- He thinks I’m gonna go into the water for some fucking buttons.

- You are, at the moment, the luckiest person in Whitestone. Do you know why? Because you’re at the bottom of my list.

- You need me more than I need you.

- I protect him. He’s my boy. And I keep him safe.

- I made the earth remember him.

- Come correct or get corrected.

- Do not go far from me.

- Are you worth saving?

- How do I want to do this?

- Heaven to some, and hell to others.

- Fix him!

- Why do we tell stories?

- Do you spice?

- Listen you fucking jungle! I'm a paladin of the Wildmother. You're going to move or we're going to bust you wide open! We'll wreck this place. Don't make me fucking tell you twice!

- I am your god, long may I rein, eat of my fruits.

- Anybody can make lights. Anybody could send a message through a wire. I want to bend reality to my will.

- Would you like to talk before or after?

- What the fuck is up with that?

- To reach a hand down to somebody, they need to be beneath you! And I'm beneath nobody.

- The one eyed monster slayed my pussy.

- Time is a weird soup.

- I’m killing someone. Hold, please.

- Gold is a resource by which mortaldom climbs.

- Why are you so mean to me?

- Yours is the face I saw when murder entered my heart.

- This one time I saw a bug carrying a piece of bread that was like five times its size and he was carrying upstairs, like up and then he would turn, and then up, and then he would turn.

- I live as long as Whitestone lives.

- Vox Machina! Fuck shit up!

- I’m not disappointed, I’m just angry.

- Someone prayed for a miracle and there you were.

- We don't leave people behind. That's just the rule. You do not leave people the fuck behind.

- Call me child one more goddamned time!

- Finish it, Champion.

- I am of the Empire. But I am no friend to the Empire.

- I think it has been a long time since anyone has pointed out to you that you're a fool. Pain doesn't make people, it's love that makes people. The pain is inconsequential. It's love that saves them. And you would know that but you have none around you. You said so yourself, you surround yourself with lies and deceptions. And I wish for you, in the future, to find someone to mourn you when you are gone.

[novasdarling]

Growing Pains

Yandere! Illumi x reader

TW: Kidnapping Hinted, Pregnancy, Zoldyck Child Training(Idk what to label it as), Sort of Forced Pregnancy and Dubcon, Female Reader.

A cry woke you from your sleep again. It had to be the fifth time in the last few hours that she had woken up. Heading towards the crib near your bed, you checked to see why Sora was crying again. She couldn’t be hungry again, you swore you had just fed her not too long ago. You silently prayed she wasn’t teething yet, you weren't ready for that. Picking her up, you both sat on the bed. Trying to calm her down so you two could sleep again. Usually, she was in her own room with butlers that came to answer her calls at night, like with the other kids. But when Illumi was gone, it was nice to have another in the room with you at night. Even if she wouldn’t sleep.

Trying to hush her to bed seemed to be insignificant. A knock at the door proved that.

“Mrs Illumi.” You always hated how they referred to as that. Always linking you to Illumi. Master Illumi’s wife. Mrs Illumi. Mrs Zoldyck. Never just your name. “If you please, I can take her back to her nursery.” A butler had walked in. She was new but extremely sweet. You wondered how the hell she got here.

“No, I’m fine. Thank you though.”

The butler left, leaving you with a crying baby. She was the fussiest of all your kids. The others were better sleepers by miles. There was nothing you could really do right now, you had changed her, fed her, rocked her. Looking down at her, wondering what would make her cry like this. You needed to calm her, it would be embarrassing to have to call the butler back because you had failed. Failed to get your own child to rest. She was your child, you should be able to do this. Holding Sora closer, you hummed an old lullaby your own mother used to sing to you. It was more for you than her, a way to calm yourself down. If she sensed your tiredness and stress it would only make things worse.

The cries had finally stopped, looking down you saw Sora peacefully sleeping. It worked, the lullaby got her to sleep. Silently thanking your mother's need to sing all the time. You moved to lay Sora back into the bedside crib, but when you put her down, she woke. She just wouldn’t let you be. Taking her back into your arms, you laid her down on the bed near you. Making sure the bed was cleared on her side. Luckily Illumi had gotten the biggest bed possible. You kept your hand on Sora’s stomach. Humming and rubbing her, trying your best to get her back to sleep. Soon the cries stopped, her heavy eyes closed and so did yours. Both of you letting exhaustion win. Getting the much-needed sleep you both had been deprived all night.

The morning light shining through the window had lit up your room. The drawn back curtains had allowed the golden light to fall in and unfortunately hit your eyes. Waking you up. Rubbing the sleep out of your eyes, looking to the side expecting to see Sora, instead being met with an empty bed. Shooting up you looking around. She wasn’t by your bed, not in her crib. Where was she?

“Sora, Sora? Oh, god where is she?” You were running around the room the room, scared she fell off the bed and crawled somewhere.

“Mrs Illumi. Please relax. Sora is in the nursery with her siblings.”

It was the same butler as last night, she must have heard you running around the room shouting and came in. Her words calmed you down. She or one of the others most of gotten her before you woke up. You let out a breath of relief. She was safe and fine. Thanking and dismissing her, you got ready. Wanting to go see the kids in the nursery.

All you wanted to do was play with the children today, but Illumi was set to arrive back home soon. He'd never allow you to put all your attention on them when he was there. Dressing in Illumi’s favourite dress, as he was supposed to come home after dinner and always liked you ready to greet him in an outfit he enjoyed. It was like this ever since he had taken you as his wife. He had strict rules for you and the children. It was better when you played the part of the perfect wife. After all these years, it had gotten easier. Especially after having Mary and Silva, the twins. You had them to focus on when he was gone, to distract you from him. Illumi even seemed to change. He had always been somewhat kind to you, after all he had taken you and made you his wife because he stated he loved you. But before the twins he was awkward, not knowing how to communicate with you. All he did before was keep the bed warm with you and spoil you in gifts. Even then, it was detached. It was clear he didn’t know what to do with you besides the occasional conversation, sitting in silence, and sex. At least now he was more aware what was needed in a relationship.

Once ready you headed to the nursery. The butler told you all of them there playing. It was nice that there were still moments they could be kids, even if they belonged to the Zoldyck family. Heading down the hall until you came to the room. The nursery was on the other side of the hall. Illumi stated it was best to keep them far from your two’s room. You argued which made him settle on allowing them to have their rooms on the same floor as yours.

Walking into the room you were met with a different view than what you expected. The kids were playing, but they weren't alone. It wasn’t the usual butler that was watching them, no it was Illumi.

“Hello dear. You look wonderful.”

“You’re home early. I thought you were homing after dinner.”

He explained that the target was easier than originally thought so he was able to come home earlier. Illumi was sitting on the couch, holding Sora while watching the other kids play. They all had some features of his. Whether it be his long hair, his height or his large eyes. At least those that did have his eyes didn't have the emptiness like his. According to Kikyo, their eyes were almost like yours. Held the same emotions as yours, but were his shape. Only Silva and Sora looked more like you. Though Silva had his grandfather’s white hair. Born with a full head of it, Kikyo demanded that he have a family name. You were so tired you would have agreed to anything to get everyone away from you and get some rest.

Illumi signalled you over. Putting Sora on the ground to be swarmed by her siblings. Then pulling you down to sit on his lap. A hand on your waist and one on your thigh. He began to talk about his target. How easy it was, the method and plan he used. You always hated how he talked about these things in Infront of the children. They were still so young, but then again, he always told you that soon they would be joining him. It was hard to look at the twins and think that even though they were only eight, they were already getting trained. Being prepared to be taken out on missions with their father. No matter how much you loved them, they would always be seen as possessions of the Zoldyck family. Belonging to Illumi, not you.

“Sweetie, don’t push your brother.” You went to get up, but Illumi held you down.

“Let them be. They can figure things out on their own.”

Illumi went back to ranting about whatever he pleased until he called the butlers in to take the children to training. You tried to ask him to let them stay longer, you had just woken up. Yet, once again Illumi’s word was final. Once the kids left, he led you out of the nursery and back towards the bedroom. Signalling for you to help him undress, he knew you rather have him change his clothes once he got home. It was foolish, but it made you feel like what he did wasn't real if he changed clothes.

“We should have another.”

What

“You-we, I thought we were only going to have the four?” You two already had the twins, Kilian and Sora.

“Yes, but you seem happy with the kids." He turned to look at you. Scanning your face. "Lay down on the bed.”

He was standing there shirtless while your hands were still helping him with his pants zipper. There was no arguing with him. You originally thought after the twins he’d stop but then Kilian came a few years after that and Sora after that. To you, the others weren't planned. At least not on your part. It was only after you found out you were pregnant with Sora that he revealed he wanted four. Illumi tended to do what he pleased with you. In a sense, you were lucky he even brought it up instead of just doing it.

You laid on the bed, watching as he finished undressing. You realized you were still dressed. Your attempts to get undressed were stopped by him. Illumi telling you to just remove your underwear. Doing as he said, sliding them down and off your legs while Illumi watched. His eyes refusing to look away as he crawled on the bed between your legs. He held position you in the middle of the bed. Keeping himself in the middle of your legs. Using his hands to hold them apart while he lowered his head. Moving towards your clit, sucking on it. He was good, too good. It was rather annoying, especially since he was so good at reading you. Listening and watching you to see what worked best, what drove you crazy and right now. He was succeeding. The way his lips attached around your clit, the way he used his tongue. It made you a moaning mess, struggling to get away from him. Only to have his hand come up and hold your hip down. It was mind-numbing in an amazing way. The way his tongue was swirling around your clit was bringing you closer and closer to the edge. It wasn’t fair how he did this to get his way. Make you a puddle so he could do what he pleased. It wasn’t fair, but then again it was better than when you first got here. He just would position you and did what he pleased. Barely even warming you up.

“Good. Almost there.”

You were more than almost there. You were at the edge ready to fall off. Just a few more swirls and you were screaming his name. Gripping his hair, unsure if you wanted to pull him away or bring him closer. It was intense. You were still catching your breath as Illumi wiped off his face and lined himself up. You could barely look straight, too much in a daze. Not focusing on him moving and lining himself up, until you felt his tip at your entrance.

“I-Illumi, I don’t k-know.”

“Shh. I’m not done.”

He wasn’t a man of words unless he wanted to be condescending or rude. Then he seemed to be very skilled with them. It was best to lay back and let him enjoy himself now. If you were good for him, he’d make sure you enjoy it too. But the idea that he wanted another kid was blocking that idea. Were you ever going to get a break from having kids? Sora wasn’t even a year old, this was sooner after than the others.

“Illumi, please, S-Sora's too young.”

“I want a few more and now.” Illumi dipped his head to your ear. Littering a few kisses by your temple and the shell of your ear. While he pushed in. “You always look good-mmmm so tight-when you have my baby.”

His pace was slow while he pushed into you and let you get used to him. The stretch had gotten better over time, it was less intense than the first few times you two were together. Then again, Illumi also learned to focus on getting you warmed up first.

His thrusts were speeding up. His gentleness only lasted so long, he liked to get you off first so he could focus on him. He was selfish in nature, but better than before. His face was buried in the crook of your neck as his hips slammed against yours.

“Good. So good.”

Illumi was in the heat of the moment. Losing himself in your cunt. Fucking into you roughly. The way he was aiming his hips. Trying to get as deep in as possible. Wanting to also hit your sweet spot. It felt good, rough, but good. If he just slowed down a bit he would last longer and make you cum around him.

“Illumi! Illumi! Please, s-slow down. Please.”

“No. I’m almost done.” He was attempting to keep his composer. It was faint, but there was some strain in his voice. “I’m going to put another baby in you.”

He leaned back for a moment, pushing your legs up against your chest into a mating press. Allowing himself to get deeper. He was getting close to becoming too much. You wanted to push him away, but he wouldn’t budge. He was much stronger than you and once he was in the moment, there was very little you could do to push him away.

His grunts were loud and clear in your ear. Letting you know how much enjoyed being with you. He was hitting your sweet spot, ramming into it over and over. He was close, his thrusts were getting sloppy. You were getting close too. It wasn’t fair that he was making you feel so good when this wasn't really for you. He wanted another kid. You knew if he could, he’d probably keep you pregnant all the time.

“You looked good this morning. Laying in bed with Sora. Such a good mom” So that was it. Illumi was getting messy now, something that rarely happened. “I want more.”

The buildup was becoming too much. You clamped down on him, causing him to cum when you did. He held you tighter as he stilled. Filling you as much as he could and as deep as possible. While you were clawing at his back. Illumi was grinding into you, riding out his high. You were trying to catch your breath under him. Both of you lay there coming down from your highs. He came down faster than you, moving off of you to lay beside you. Watching your chest rise and fall trying to catch your breath.

“I hope for another boy like Silva. He’s getting further than I was at his age. Kilian seems to be too sensitive like you.”

Illumi was right, Kilian tended to come back from training in tears. It melted your poor heart. You never wanted this for them. If only all of them were more like Illumi. Mary tended to be a good spy, always telling her dad what you had been up to while he was away. He trained her well. You couldn’t help the way your eyes teared thinking of what your kids had become. They once were innocent little babies like Sora, but even she was receiving some training now and when she got older. She would become like the others.

“They’re kids Illumi...”

“Yes, my kids. They are part of the Zoldyck family and so will the others we have.” He moved closer, sitting up slightly and looking down at you. “I thought we were over this.”

“You're right, I'm sorry."

You remembered how you would cry and beg him to leave the twins alone when they started their training. Sometimes he'd lock you away as punishment so you wouldn't be able to see them for weeks. Spending that time alone crying over them. It was better to let him take them if it meant you could patch up their wounds after and be with them. It was cruel either way.

"Why do you want more now though? Sora is still so young.”

“I saw you with Sora this morning. You were so peaceful with her, you always looked that peaceful when pregnant. You always looked good.”

You smiled at his words. He was always the horniest when you were pregnant or when you two were trying. There was no arguing with him. You thanked him and laid a kiss on his lips. Illumi had come far from all those years ago. He was still cold and calculated, but at least now. Now he had his moments when he was alone with you and occasionally with the kids.

Tip jar

[janeyseymour]

Save Me Before I Lose Myself- part 7

Part 1. Part 2. Part 3. Part 4. Part 5. Part 6.

Summary: Melissa helps you in any way she can.

WC: ~4.15k

“Miss Schemmenti,” Millie cries, and she lunges for her teacher. The redhead is quick to pull the stressed out girl into her arms and hold her close, providing any comfort she can.

“Sit,” Melissa instructs you. “Sit while I- I-” For once, the woman is at a loss for words. She’s been hoping and praying that you would come to your senses and ask for help, but now that that moment is upon her and you’re in the state that you are… she wishes she could take it all back.

“I- I didn’t know what else to do,” you whisper as you wipe some of the blood away and take a seat. It’s slowed, but there’s still a steady flow coming from the laceration. “I just knew I had to get out of there.”

Melissa hoists Millie onto her hip and heads for the sink in the back of the classroom. She wets a few paper towels and strides back over to you. Your daughter wiggles her way out of her teacher’s arms and flies into your own. The redhead cleans you up as gently as she possibly can, apologizing profusely when you hiss and wince in pain.

“Wh- what happened?” the second grade teacher whispers, and she’s genuinely terrified for what could come out of your mouth. “And don’t tell me nothin’. This clearly ain’t nothin’, and I can’t ignore it anymore.”

The words come tumbling out of your mouth, detailing what’s been happening in as little detail as possible while still getting your point across, what with your daughter clinging to you. And then you get to today, and the tears fall at a rapid pace. As soon as one of your salty tears finds its way into your wound, you whine in pain.

“She- I confronted her about your conference this morning,” you whisper as you hold Millie close to you. “Didn’t even deny that she was flirting with you. I told her I was done… and that was before I could smell the booze in her breath.”

“And then what happened?” the redhead presses on, as much as she doesn’t want to know what could have you like this.

“I- I don’t even-” you start to say, but Millie cuts you off.

“Momma got hurt,” your little girl says, and her lip starts quivering again. She tells Melissa what you can’t, because you had genuinely gone into survival mode and blocked it all out. She tells her teacher how she watched from behind the archway as plates and glasses went flying, how Carrie was spewing awful, horrible, hateful things your way. Your heart sinks at the realization that all of that took place, and your sweet little girl had to watch it all go down.

“I had to try to save Momma,” Millie whispers. “If I go in, Mom doesn’t hurt Momma. Usually. It- it didn’t work this time.”

“Millie,” the redhead sighs softly. “I need you to be really honest with me; did your mom hurt you?”

Immediately, you jump in. “No. No, she didn’t.”

“She was going to,” your daughter mumbles. “Momma saved me before she could.”

Melissa sees red at the thought of Millie being hurt by her own mother. “How did Momma save you?”

“She picked me up, and she got hit instead,” the little girl whispers. Then she turns to you and buries her face in your shoulder as she mumbles out broken apologies. You can only hush her and try to soothe her, but you know it’s futile. She just saw her mother get injured by her other mother, and she herself was in danger. Of course she’s inconsolable.

“H-have you gone to the police?” Melissa asks after a moment of silence.

You shake your head. “I didn’t know what to do,” you admit softly. “It all happened so quickly, and I just knew I had to get Millie out of the house.”

Melissa nods and grits her teeth. God, all she wants to do is throttle Carrie- get some of the people that she has connections with to teach her a well-deserved lesson. Forcing herself to take a deep breath, the redhead manages to keep her focus on you. “Okay. Here’s what we’re going to do.”

You look to her with broken eyes. “What? We?”

“I’m gonna go get Barb, and she’ll take care of Mill while-”

“I want Momma!” Millie begins to protest immediately.

Melissa’s eyes get wide at your little girl’s outburst, but she starts nodding again. “Okay, okay, you can stay with Momma. Give me… let me get Barb. She’ll be able to… I dunno, think more clearly than either of us can right now.”

You blow out a breath. “Yeah, okay.”

“Promise me you aren’t goin’ nowhere,” the teacher tells you sternly. At your nod, she runs down the hall, yelling for her work wife.

“Barb!” Melissa shouts as she makes her way into the kindergarten wing. “Barbara!”

The kindergarten teacher’s eyes widen just slightly as she halts her preparation for the next few days. “Melissa?”

“Barb,” the redhead comes into sight, and she looks worse than Barbara was expecting. “Barb, I need your help.”

“With?”

“Y/N.”

“Melissa, I must ask why you’re so deeply affected by this one,” the kindergarten teacher asks. “Y/N is not the first parent to go through this with you, and yet you seem so taken with her.”

Melissa gnaws on her lip. She doesn’t want to admit that she’s been taken with you for a while now… pretty much since you’ve started bringing Millie to Abbott. Instead she chooses to ignore the question for now and sighs. “Y/N showed up with Millie,” she relays. “They- they need help. She’s beat up pretty bad, and I- I need your help, and you to keep me from taking a fuckin’ bat to that bitch of a wife Y/N has.”

That’s all the kindergarten teacher needs to hear before she too is practically sprinting down the hallway to get to you and your little girl.

You’re rocking Millie gently, trying to ignore the pain in your face, when you hear both teachers’ voices. Melissa knows the state that you’re in, but Mrs. Howard doesn’t. And therefore, she cannot stop the gasp from escaping her lips when she lays eyes on you.

“Oh, sweetheart,” Barbara whispers, hands clasped over her mouth. “Oh my.”

“Please,” you sigh. “Please help me.”

“We’re going to,” the kindergarten teacher promises you gently as she makes her way over to you. And then she snaps into ‘Super Barbara’ mode. Before you know it, you and your daughter are in the back of her car being taken to the hospital. Melissa is on the phone with someone she knows in law enforcement, and she’s speaking rapidly in Italian. You can tell by her tone that she’s not playing around with whoever is on the other end of the line. After a few minutes, the redhead hangs up, and Barbara glances to you in the rear-view mirror.

“I need you to tell me what happened,” your daughter’s former teacher tells you quietly. “As much as I don’t want to make you talk, I need to know what is going on so I can help to the best of my ability.”

You bite your lip as you look to your little girl. She’s finally seemed to calm down now that you’re on your way to get checked out, and you don’t feel like setting her off again. You give the redhead in the passenger seat a pleading look.

“I’ll fill you in while we’re in the waiting room,” Melissa tells her work wife.

Neither woman knows it, but you have a horrid fear of hospitals. It’s what’s held you back from going there for so long- through all of the injuries that you’ve endured, you’ve never once taken yourself to the hospital. But under your eye is still bleeding, and when Barbara saw it, she insisted- you were probably going to need stitches.

The woman pulls up and waits for you to get out, but you don’t so much as move. 

“Sweetheart, you have to get out of the car,” Barbara tells you softly. Still, you don’t budge. “Honey, what’s the matter?”

You fiddle with your fingers. “I- I have a fear of hospitals,” you admit quietly. “I don’t want to go in there.”

“Hun,” Melissa turns in her seat. “You gotta.”

Even Millie looks to you with furrowed brows. “Momma, you always tell me doctors help, even when I’m scared to go.”

You have to fight yourself from rolling your eyes and cursing your past self. “Y-yeah. They do, Mills. Momma’s just… scared.”

“Would it help if I went in with ya?” the redhead asks. At your nod, she unbuckles her own seatbelt and steps out of the car.

With shaking hands and a shaking voice, you’re able to check yourself in and are taken to a more private area relatively quickly. Melissa texts her friend to let her know where you are, and then you’re forced to play the waiting game. Millie keeps you as distracted as possible while the two teachers step out very briefly to ensure that they are on the same page. 

“Look,” Melissa sighs. “I’m gonna make this quick. Carrie was flirtin’ with me, Y/N caught wind of it, ’n’ I guess she confronted her about it. She told her they were done, and then Carrie flew off the handle. Millie got caught in the middle of it, and when the fuckin’ bitch went after her, Y/N stepped in and took the blow. Now, let’s get back in there. Poor girl’s scared outta her fuckin’ mind.”

Barbara nods and grimaces. That was the last thing she wanted to hear. When the redhead goes to head back into the room, the kindergarten teacher catches her softly by the arm. “What are we gonna do about this?”

“Support her in any way we can,” Melissa shrugs as she rubs the back of her neck. “I got my guy on the phone while we were in the car, an’ he’s sending someone here to come speak with Y/N.”

The three of them do everything they can to keep your spirits as light as possible while you sit and wait for the doctor to come in. And when the doctor does come in, the panic creeps into your body again. What you aren’t expecting is for the doctor to look at Melissa with a broad smile.

“Schemmenti?” 

“Oi, Bobby,” the redhead chuckles. “I shoulda known I’d get stuck with ya comin’ in here.”

You give your daughter’s teacher a confused looked.

“I got connections all over the city,” is all she offers up. “But now that I know it’s Bobby Boy, you’re in great hands, Y/N.”

“That you are,” the doctor smiles as he reaches out to shake your hand. He does his examination of your cheek, and he frowns. “Definitely gonna need stitches.” Your heart drops- dammit, Mrs. Howard was right.

He preps you, but as soon as you see that needle, you begin to panic. You’re sweating, your heart is racing, your palms are soaked. And in seeing you so worked up, Millie starts to get upset too. And then the doctor injects the anesthetic, and the yelp that comes from your body makes everyone in the room jump. 

“Get her out of here,” you instruct as you point to Millie, who is near tears. “Get her out.” You just barely manage that statement before they inject it again, and this cry is louder.

Barbara and Melissa glance to each other for a quick second before the kindergarten teacher takes her former student into her arms and out of the room. No sooner is Melissa next to you and holding your hand. She does everything she can to soothe you, and it breaks her heart to see you in such pain.

After what feels like forever, you’re all stitched up, and you don’t even bother to wipe at the tears that fall down your cheeks. What’s the use? The physical pain, along with the mental and emotional roller coaster that you’ve been on today, are too much.

“You’ve got a tough one,” Bobby tells Melissa, although you’re fairly certain he’s only saying that to be kind. You’re a grown woman sobbing in his office right now.

Melissa just smooths a few of your hairs down softly. “Yeah. She’s a tough one alright.”

“Let me just get a few things squared away in terms of paperwork and print the papers for the aftercare, but then you should be free to go,” the doctor smiles at you sadly.

“Actually, hun,” the redhead interjects. “Was wondering if you got enough space to let us stay a bit? Just until Tony can make his way down here to talk to Y/N.”

“Tony’s comin’ down?” At Melissa’s nod, the doctor knows that whatever is going on with you is quite serious. His friend never calls Tony unless it’s absolutely necessary. “Yeah, Mel. It’s quiet today.”

“Thanks.”

“Oi, you stayin’ safe yourself?”

“Always am,” Melissa chuckles. “C’mon, now. You know that I ain’ gettin’ hurt- I leave that up to Kristen Marie.”

“Well, I just gotta make sure,” Bobby rolls his eyes and pats the teacher’s shoulder. “If I don’t get around to seein’ Tony, tell him I says hi.”

“Roger that.”

Bobby hands you the discharge papers a few minutes later before promising Melissa that the two of you can take all the time you need. 

When Barbara and Millie come back into the room, they’re followed by a policeman in uniform. You assume this is Tony- what with the way he greets the redhead still holding your hand. Barbara eyes that, but keeps to herself. She’ll make sure to ask her friend about that little action later.

“Oh, Schemmenti, this better be good,” Tony sighs as he sits in a chair.

“You know I don’ call unless I need to,” Melissa rolls her eyes. “I wish I didn’ have to call ya.”

“Well, what do we have?”

Slowly, the policeman coaxes the story out of you- the entire truth of it. You detail as much as you can without going into detail with your daughter in the room, but it gets to a point where you know Millie has to leave. She can’t hear some of the horrors of what your wife has put you through.

“I- I’m sorry,” you wipe at the non-injured side of your face with your free hand. “Mrs. Howard, would you mind taking Millie? She- she doesn’t need to hear all of this.”

Barbara gives you a sympathetic smile before looking down at your daughter. “I think that might be a good idea. What do you think, little girl?”

It’s quite apparent to you that Millie does not want to leave you, but she nods when she sees the pleading in your eyes. “C- can we get dinner?”

You root through your purse quickly and hand Barbara your debit card. “She likes McDonald’s, and please feel free to get yourself anything you’d like,” you sigh. “And Melissa, if she’d like anything.”

Barbara nods, shoots the redhead next to you a look, and allows herself to be pulled away by the second grader. 

You inform the police of everything you couldn’t say in front of your daughter, and by the end of it, the woman next to you is absolutely fuming.

“You see why I called?” Melissa huffs. Then she looks to you, and her tough Philly girl facade fades.

Tony gives his friend a look. “Yeah, yeah I do. Well, Y/N, how would you like to proceed with all of this?”

“I- I don’t know,” you whisper. You glance to the redhead next to you. “I- I can’t keep doing this, but I… I don’t know. I can’t be alone in this.”

“You ain’t alone,” your daughter’s teacher tells you as she taps away on her phone. She’s sending Barbara a text about dinner. She’s also relaying that she is going to offer for you and Millie to move in with her- to keep you safe. “You got me, you got Barb. We’s gonna do what we’s gotta do.”

You look to the man in blue, silently asking him if he understands what his friend means by that.

“Y/N,” Melissa says. “Carrie ain’t good for you. What you need is a restraining order, a divorce- which I can help with, and to get yourself the hell away from that bitch with Millie.”

“I-” You’re not quite sure what to say. “I guess Mill an’ I are gonna have to move back home.”

“You ain’t goin’ back to-”

“Back to Baltimore,” you sigh.

“No,” Melissa states.

“Melissa, I don’t have family here,” you say softly. “I don’t really have another choice.”

“You do,” the redhead argues. “You and Mill will come stay with me until you get back on your feet.”

Your eyes widen, and you shake your head. “I- I can’t do that to you.”

“You’ll be doin’ me a favor,” the teacher states. “I only know how to cook for twelve, and instead of worryin’ that y’aren’t safe, I’ll know youse guys are okay with me.”

“I-” You look to the cop for help.

He shrugs. “Schemmenti don’t say what she don’t mean,” he tells you. “And while court proceedings are going on, it might be better for you to be in the area and with someone you know will help keep you safe.”

You once again look to the redhead who is still holding your hand gently, searching for any hints of ingenuity- that she’s just doing this in front of her friend to look good. You don’t see anything other than true compassion and care for you and your little girl. So you nod shyly.

“Then it’s settled,” Melissa smiles at you softly. “I’ll call some of my guys, and we’ll get everythin’ in order for ya. Restraining order, we’ll take care of tonight. Divorce lawyer, I’ll call my guy tomorrow. Stuff from your place, I’ll call Cal tomorrow and-”

“Carrie goes into the office tomorrow,” you stop her gently. “I can get our stuff together tomorrow.”

“Are ya gonna be safe doin’ that? What if she isn’t?”

“I’ll- I’ll be okay,” you mumble.

Melissa shakes her head. “I don’t got too many conferences tomorrow. If you go between nine and eleven, I can go with you and make sure you’re safe.”

“Melissa, I’ll be-”

“Momma!” Millie runs back into the room, little hand clutching the toy that came with her happy meal. Barbara comes trailing in behind her, a takeout bag and soda in her hands. She doesn’t miss the fact that her work wife’s fingers are still interlaced with yours- at least until your daughter launches herself into your arms. You quickly untangle your fingers and hold your little girl close, peppering her face with kisses. “Momma, Mrs. Howard let me get an icee with my dinner! And- and when I told her I already had the toy from my happy meal, she talked to the person behind the counter, an’ I got one I didn’t already have!”

“That was very nice of her,” you chuckle softly. You look to her former teacher. “Thank you.”

“Of course,” Barbara smiles at you. “Millie and I had a splendid time at McDonald’s, and we got dinner for the two of you too.” She hands the bag to the redhead returns your card.

“Well,” the cop claps his hands together. “I’d say we have everything sorted out on my end, and it seems like everything else is going to fall into place, so I’m heading out.”

“You might wanna stop by the desk an’ see if Bobby’s free a second,” Melissa teases him. “The idiot couldn’t believe I called ya.”

“I can’t believe ya called,” Tony rolls his eyes, but he pats Melissa’s shoulder in a friendly manner. Then he looks to you. “You need me, you call. Or have Melly call.”

The redhead groans at that nickname.

It feels like the ride back to Abbott is forever in Barbara’s car with the traffic. You end up in standstill traffic, and Millie is so exhausted she ends up falling asleep on you before you even make it to the school to transfer her over to Melissa’s vehicle.

“Let her sleep,” the kindergarten teacher laughs quietly. “I’ll bring ‘em over for you.”

“Thanks, Barb,” the redhead smiles with gratitude before climbing into her own car. 

Melissa’s house is both exactly what you expected, and also entirely not what expected. There’s picture frames littering every available surface, and it’s clear that the house is lived in- it’s a home. But it’s also much bigger than you had been imagining- she’s a single woman with a house this big? In Philadelphia?

The redhead ushers you to a bedroom- clearly a guest room, and tells you to set Millie down while Barbara goes through the medicine cabinet and finds a spare toothbrush for you and your daughter, setting them on the bathroom sink. You do so quietly before leaning over and dropping a few sweet kisses to her hairline.

“My little girl,” you whisper. “We’re gonna be alright, my love.”

“Let her sleep,” Melissa tells you. “We got dinner to eat, and a few things to sort out.”

You and the redhead head downstairs where Barbara has made herself comfortable in the recliner and begin to eat.

“Thank you,” you sigh softly after you’ve swallowed your first bite. “Thank you so much for all of your help… with my situation and with Mills.”

“You got it,” Melissa nods along. “We got you.”

“That we do,” the kindergarten teacher smiles at you.

You finish off your meal rather quickly, and then you yawn. Today has been… exhausting, to say the least.

“Go catch some shut eye,” the second grade teacher instructs. “You need it now, and you’re gonna need it once everything gets goin’.”

“Y-yeah,” you yawn out, tucking a hair behind your ear. You look between the two of them with thankful eyes. “Thank you again. You have… no idea how much I appreciate it.” And then you make your way up the steps.

Lying in bed, you pull your little girl close, and sleep comes much easier to you than you would’ve expected after a day like today.

Downstairs, Barbara is eying her friend. “So.”

“What?” Melissa furrows her brow, and the top corner of her lip goes up.

“You wanna tell me the reason you’re so invested in this? Why you let them crash your place when you and I both know your house is your sacred place?”

Green eyes are rolled. “They need help.”

“That is true, yes,” the kindergarten teacher agrees. “But there’s somethin’ else.”

“What the hell are you gettin’ at?”

“Don’t think I didn’t miss the way you held Y/N’s hand the whole time you were in the emergency room with her,” Barbara chuckles. “Or the longing looks you’ve always given her.”

Melissa gives a heavy sigh as she stares up at the ceiling. “You’re crazy.”

“I’m a lot of things,” the woman of God smirks. “Crazy is not one of those things. You have a thing for Y/N.”

“So what if I do?” the redhead asks. “It ain’t like I’m gonna do anything about it. She’s in the process of leaving an abusive relationship, she has Millie to worry about, and her daughter is my student.”

Barb rolls her eyes. “I just wanted confirmation that you had the hots for her. I’ve never seen you so willing to help a parent out.”

“Millie is a special little girl,” Melissa tells her coworker. “And Y/N… there’s something about her. I dunno. Between you and me, I would much rather have her flirting with me than that her bitch of a wife.”

“Oh, I’ve had a few run-ins with Carrie,” Barbara groans. “Don’t have to tell me how terrible she can be.” Then she stands. “Well, I’m off to get my beauty sleep. The lord knows I’m going to need it after today.”

“Yeah,” the second grade teacher sighs. “I should probably get to bed too. I’m sure tomorrow is going to be the start of a very long process.”

The kindergarten teacher chuckles bitterly. “Yes, it is.”

“Thanks for your help today,” Melissa hugs her friend. “If I hadn’t come and gotten you, I’m sure Carrie would be in the hospital right now, and I’d be in prison.”

“I’m sure,” Barb laughs. She heads for the door before turning on her heel. “If you need anything tomorrow or in the future, you know you can always come to me… Melly.”

“Barb!” 

TAGS: (and let me know if you want to be included!): @schemmentis @thesapphictimelady @marvel210 @itisdoctortoyousir @morgana-larkin @doesthatsuggestanythingtoyou @marvels--slut @sweetcheeksschemmenti @megamultifandomtrashposts @lemz378 @http-sam @melissaschemmentisbranzino @imaginesmultifandoms @sexysapphicshopowner @lilfartbox1 @maybe-a-humanbean @imlike-so-gaydude @a-queen-and-her-throne @notinmyvocab @melanielaufeyson @dvrkhcld @cosmichymns @sasheemo @m1lflov3rrr @ricejucie @temilyrights @emilynissangtr @squinnchy @dopenightmaretyphoon @emeraldoceansstuff @shinyfaerielights

[xoxochb]

Heyy :)

I would love to ask something for Connor with a Hecate!reader. I don’t really care whether it’s a headcannon a fic a blurb or something else. Whatever comes to mind!

Have a great day :D

⋆·˚ ༘ * I'd sell my own bones for sapphire stones ‘cause blue's your favorite color

warnings: none

pairing: connor stoll x daughter of hecate

you lay on your bed in cabin twenty, your cat, raven, tucked into your arms, something only she allowed you to do, and perhaps a certain son of hermes but you were unsure why she liked him because the only other person she did like was you

speak of the devil- you hear him arguing with one of your siblings at the door of your cabin, you assume your sibling won’t let him in because last time he was standing in the hecate cabin he almost killed everyone

“let him in” you yell due to your bed being on the complete opposite side of cabin

you sit up when you hear a sigh from your sibling, a large grin making its way to your face when you see your favorite boy making his way to your bed

when he reaches his destination he gasps as the sight of your cat in your lap, and he gently picks her up

“my child! how I missed you” he fake pouts and pets her softly

“she’s not yours, idiot” you roll your eyes

“well she only likes me and you, so technically we’re her parents”

you blush at his words, and then take back your cat, “what’re you doing here?”

“I want to see your book, the one about crystals and stuff” he says like it’s the most obvious thing ever

but it is because you had promised to show him yesterday

“oh! yeah, let me get it” you hand raven back to connor before getting up from your bed, walking over to your bookshelf and grabbing your book, then making your way back to your bed where you find connor sitting

you take a seat beside him and open up the book, “alright let’s start at the beginning”

you begin looking through the book, showing the boy different crystals and stones, but he stops you when he sees a certain stone

“I like this one” he says pointing to it

“you like sapphire stones?” you inquire

“blue is my favorite color” he nods

you make a mental note of this and then go back to your book, and that’s what you did for the rest of the afternoon

🔮

after sunset connor leaves your cabin, and your mission is on: you’re going to find him a sapphire stone

you don’t know how, or even where to get one, but you’re going to try

you may wonder: shouldn’t the hecate cabin have them? that’s a great question, you’re unsure why but it’s one of the only stones your cabin doesn’t have

the first thing you do is ask around your cabin, but none of them had any with them. now you need to find a new plan, and that requires burnt offerings.

you didn’t usually pray to the gods, but tonight you needed it, so you sneak out of your cabin after curfew to ask a favor of your mother

once you burn your offerings- peanut m&m’s- you begin to speak: “I don’t even know if you’re going to hear this but I’d really like your help. I need a sapphire stone, preferably tonight if that’s possible. I don’t ask for much, I don’t ask for anything actually, but I really need this stone, it’s important to me”

you sigh and look up at the stars above, then looking back down when you see your fire has been put out

perhaps your mother is here! no- she wouldn’t be here.

you get up from the grass and make your way back to your cabin when you’re stopped by a tall figure

“I heard I was urgently needed?” they say- a female voice

“mother?” you ask

“that would be me, my child” she comes out from the darkness

you try to say something but all that comes out it stuttered words, nothing real

“a sapphire stone is what you need, yes?” she conquers a blue stone into her hand, then taking your hand and placing it in your palm

“yes! yeah, for my- uhm… friend” you manage to say

“a friend? you run around all night- forfeiting your sleep for someone who is just a friend?” she gives you a confused look

“yep…” you let out a deep breath you didn’t know you were holding in “well if you don’t mind, I’d really like to get some sleep in”

“yes, of course my daughter, I hope you sort out your friend situation” she smirks and with a snap of her fingers she’s gone

after a moment of shock you go back to your cabin and fall into a deep slumber until morning

🔮

in the morning you wake early even though you got maybe at least two hours of sleep.

you get up quietly, trying not to wake your siblings, you finish your morning routine and make your way to hermes cabin, but not without grabbing the stone first. once you arrive you peek in the window to see if connor is still there, but before your eyes can adjust to the darkness of the cabin you hear a voice speak

“do you always do this?”

you scramble away from the window only to be met with said boy

“holy gods of olympus, you scared me! don’t do that!” you give him a light smack on the head

“you’re the one who’s being a pervert” he points out

“no, I wasn’t. I was seeing if you were in there before I knocked on the window!” you roll your eyes

“why are you here so early?” he asks

“I’ve got something for you” you say, and he goes to say something but you stop him, “but I’m not sure if you’re worthy of it”

“yes! I’m very worthy, can I see?” he nods his head rapidly

you sigh and stuff the stone in your pocket so he doesn’t see, “nope”

“that’s not fair. what do I have to do to be worthy?” he asks putting air quotes around the last word

“apologize” you cross your arms

“for what? I didn’t do anything!” he says in disbelief

“for calling me a pervert, you weirdo!” you smack him again

he sighs and thinks for a moment before taking a step closer, cupping your face in his hands and capturing your lips with his

when he pulls away he speaks, “is that a good enough apology?”

“I suppose so” you mumble, blushing

you reach into your pocket and take out the stone, taking his hand and placing it in his palm

“a sapphire stone?” he beams

“yep. I had to talk to my mom to get it-”

“your mom?!” his eyes widen

“yeah, I asked my siblings but they didn’t have any, so I asked my mom and she came to me, I was up almost all night but I think it was worth it” you explain

he doesn’t say anything, but instead he pulls you in for a bone-crushing hug

“have I ever told you that I really really like you?” he mutters into your shoulder

you fake think for a moment before responding, “no, I don’t think you have”

“then I’ll have to show you” he picks his head up from your shoulder and captured your lips once again

and if it was relevant- you’d say it was better than the first

[southeastasianists]

When my helper of 27 years left to go back home to Jakarta, we often spoke over the phone about seeing each other again. I had no idea it would end this way—me standing over her grave, looking down at the ground of what remained of her, my face streaming with tears. 

The grave is uncared for. Trashed and forgotten. And this was after I had sent over money to her family to make it “good,” as Indonesians would say. But nothing here looks good. 

As I dug my hands into the ground, yanking out weeds and picking up plastic bottles and trash, I never felt lonelier in my grief.

To the world, she’s my maid. But to me, she’s a mother.

In many countries in Southeast Asia like Singapore, Indonesia or the Philippines, we often hire helpers—or a maid as some would deign to call them—to care for our children. 

The term ‘maid’ holds cultural connotations of colonialism. We hope that using the more palatable term ‘helper’ offers a clinical removal of such unsavoury overtones. We think changing the vocabulary may help us feel better about the exploitation of labour.

In truth, the word ‘helper’ wears a cloak of progressiveness without changing anything. They ‘help’ us. We pay them.

It’s all smoke and mirrors for a transaction that hasn’t changed in centuries.

I personally never thought of the word ‘maid’ as derogatory. To me, a maid is someone who worked alongside my mom to raise me.

Someone I loved, who, when I was a kid, fed me and took care of me when I fell off my rollerblades and told me it was all going to be okay when I had my first teenage heartbreak. She taught me how to be resilient and strong and did all the dirty work my parents were unwilling to do when caring for me.

I sat and sobbed over the barren ground where she was buried. All I could think of was how this force of a woman was now dust in this cracked, dry, orange land.

How could I have left her like that for two years? 

Loving the Help Wholeheartedly

It’s funny if you think about it—these women are essentially hired to be family members, participating in the act of raising other people’s children. Kids grow attached to them. At times, they see their helpers more often than they do their own parents.

Yet, at the same time, there is a transactionality to this relationship (surprising or not). They are paid to care for your kid. Your kid, being a kid, loves them blindly in return.

It’s a relationship fraught with both exploitation and intimacy. As a fully-grown woman raised by my helper, I still find this relationship difficult to digest and decipher. 

Thinking back, I remember giving her hugs and affection and saying, “Sorry Endang. Maaf ya. Tadi saya marah…” after losing my temper at her for ironing my clothes wrong or messing something trivial up.

I remember when she cooked a fantastic nasi tumpeng for my birthday party. As my friends dug in, she sat at the back of the kitchen, doing her duties instead of joining in.

I used to pray to God that she would never have to leave. My biggest fear back then was that she would have to go back to her real family.

Even in navigating this unbalanced mother-daughter/employer-helper relationship, there was inexplicable authentic, unconditional love for each other.

Still, for our parents, this transaction is viewed differently. I’ve seen how my friend’s parents reacted to my friend wanting to give her helper a heartfelt gift—a framed picture of the two of them—when she was retiring and going back to the Philippines.

“Why? We already gave her a lot (of money). We don’t need to give more,” they intoned, incredulous that their daughter felt she needed to give the helper anything else. For them, it was all a mere business transaction.

Helpers Seen and Lost

The revolving door of helpers and drivers coming and going from my family is ever-turning. I remember a company driver I spent time road-tripping with in Batam, only to find out he died a couple of years later in a car crash.

I’ve also seen my cousins grow up with the same helper for decades. The years have been unkind as we watch her wither away in age, to the point she could no longer work and was sent back. Their helper has since passed away as well.

I have always wondered what this relationship meant to the different parties involved. Is it just helper-employer? Is it a friendship?

For me, it was a familial love and bond. And it can go both ways. 

When my grandfather died, I remember having to shake hands with countless funeral attendees. Everyone who was family wore a pinned rose. So did I. Looking around, I saw the helpers who took care of him, rose-less, eyes red from grieving for the 99-year-old man they spent every waking day taking care of.

Standing surrounded by hundreds of flower bouquets, I watched as the helpers mourned my late grandfather. But at least there was a ritual and a space for me to express my grief.

But when my helper died, all I got was a picture sent over WhatsApp of her lifeless body wrapped in a kain kafan (the white shroud used in Muslim funeral rituals) and a phone call revealing that she had passed away.

I sat in my room alone in deafening silence, with no one to mourn with. No hands to shake, nothing.

I longed to be there for her funeral, but it was 2020—the height of the pandemic. Still, that didn’t stop me from clicking furiously on my phone, searching for flights despite knowing there were none.

So in the middle of this helpless night, with a giant void in my heart and a rock in my throat, I did the only thing I could do—the superficial act of arranging for flowers at 2 AM.

If I couldn’t be there, a stand of flowers would have to be my stand-in.

The next day, I was sent a picture of the flowers at the funeral site. The image was strange. One floral arrangement on a barren field, plastic chairs in the background, no other bouquets around in sight. Mine was the only arrangement she received. 

I loved the woman like my mother, and all I had for her was some flowers in an empty field. To me, she deserved the world—she deserved thousands of flowers and an ocean of love surrounding her. She deserved to know how much I valued her.

All this love I had for her had no place to go.

The Career of Care

It made me wonder how different my life would have been without her—how she forms an integral part of who I am today. Like my helper, many domestic workers stay with their families for years in regions like Singapore, India, Malaysia, Hong Kong, and Indonesia.

I grew up observing maids enter the lives of affluent families and observed this relationship until their employment ended. The person they cared for either didn’t need them anymore or died. Either that or the helpers themselves fell ill or grew too old to work.

In the case of my helper, it was age that led her to spend her golden years back in Jakarta with her family.

In Singapore, helpers’ contracts are typically renewable for two-year terms. Worker retention is encouraged to prevent excessive turnover. Workers must be 23 to 50 years old during the age of application; they can renew their contracts and stay for an unlimited amount of years until they reach the age of 60.

However, I know things are different from personal experience after helping my mom send in appeals to the Ministry of Manpower (MOM) to enable our helper to stay longer. You can retain a helper beyond that age in Singapore. My helper stayed with us well into her 60s.

Hong Kong bears a resemblance to Singapore, with similar renewable two-year contract terms and an age range of 18 to 59, with one considerable difference. Hong Kong implements a long service payment for domestic workers who have been with their employees for more than five years and are retiring due to health issues or old age.

There, helpers who have had their contract terminated due to redundancy—such as a move or the fact that the children your worker is taking care of have grown up—still get a service payment.

In other regions like Indonesia, the household is considered almost always off-limits with regard to state intervention, meaning laws regulating helpers have been left largely unregulated. The role of domestic workers is seen as a maternal one, and they are often referred to simply as helpers (the soft term in Malay: pembantu) rather than perceived as actual workers.  

After two decades of pressure, Indonesia is still working on passing a domestic workers’ bill. Their exclusion from labour law gives them little to no control over the terms of their employment and little structure to implement a pension plan.

Similarly, in the Philippines, being a domestic worker (‘kasambahay’ or ‘yaya’) is considered neither a formal nor an informal occupation. Paid domestic work is an essential source of employment, with numbers increasing yearly. However, many people regard it as unskilled work that can be exploited.

The implementation of Kasambahay Law in 2013 offers more protection for Filipino domestic workers—but it has opened the door to unethical practices by unscrupulous employment agencies charging illegal fees and offering little stability. Many workers are afraid to voice any complaints and remain vulnerable to the hands they are dealt.

Helpers work well into and beyond their retirement years, dedicating their lives to other families as an occupation, partly because of the lack of security that their job offers them. Informal work arrangements mean little political protection and practically zero financial cushioning after retirement.

With many countries not offering any pension, there is little security for what comes after. And for those without children or families to take care of them, what sort of life are they returning to?

Then there is the emotional impact of living a large portion of their life embedded in someone else’s home.

One party watches the other grow up. The other watches the other age into their autumn years.

Grief With Nowhere to Go

Finding a place for the love I had for my helper after she passed on was like navigating in the dark in an empty room. Especially since she wasn’t technically my family or my friend. I had no one to share this grief with—and hardly any place to visit to bear witness to it. 

When I confided to my mother about my grief, she retorted with hurt. “It feels like you loved Endang more than me,” she remarked.

This is not the first occurrence of a parent feeling slighted by a child’s love for the helper. Nor will it be the last.

As people from an invisible faction of society, helpers are often kept in the background or sidelines of our lives. They are the ones in the corner pew of a grandfather’s funeral. They are the ones cooking in the back of the kitchen on our birthdays. They are the ones holding the camera and snapping our family pictures on holidays and occasions—rarely a part of the photo.

Most of the time, they are unseen and unacknowledged. And so I found my loss and love similarly unseen and unacknowledged by society.

A Fitting Goodbye

After leaving Jakarta, I offered money to ensure my helper got her final resting place. I only received a picture of the completed work while in the throes of writing this piece.

And yes, I know ceremonies and tombstones are more for the living than the dead. But it’s finally a worthy space where she can be honoured in the way I feel she deserves.

More selfishly, it’s a way to hold on to the little I have left of her.

The groundskeeper is also working on getting a tree planted next to the tombstone. During my visit, I noticed that the other side of the graveyard was sprawling with beautiful trees, and I knew I wanted the same for her. 

They offered frangipani, which I gladly agreed to. I didn’t even know that frangipani is both a fitting symbol of the immense love and lasting bond between two people—and also a symbol of connecting with spirits and ghosts.

That’s all I ever wanted. An expression of love for Endang and a way to connect to her again.

So often, helpers bear the burden of domestic labour and mothering. But they are ironically never really considered truly part of the domicile. They spend years mothering children but are never considered part of the family. They spend years in our personal space but are never really at home.

But Endang was my family. And I hope that now, she has finally found the home she truly deserves.