#he brought so much joy into my life
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clownsuu · 2 years ago
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Small detour of what I usually post, but I absolutely wish (other) clown the best of luck during these confusing and almost hopeless times- nobody knows how to deal with such amount of attention in such short amount of time- a blessing and a curse to behold
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may-we-rest-well · 1 month ago
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Sometimes, when I'm struggling to keep my thoughts from spiraling, I just imagine for a brief moment that Toshinori (in his true form) is giving me a hug and telling me I'm safe. It helps make everything less loud.
I know he's not real, I know he'll never be real, but I'd happily tell him thank you if I could. He helped me get through last year just a little less broken than when it started.
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aroaceleovaldez · 2 years ago
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Every description about Nico (especially the canon ones) describing him as “cold” can personally fight me. Nico is jaded, yes, and often closed-off and sometimes stand-offish and defensive but he is not "cold”. He cares SO SO SO MUCH about EVERYONE. He loves and cares with his entire heart constantly and that is a core part of his character. He doesn’t often make public shows of his affection but he takes care to be kind when it matters and doesn’t hide that he does care (usually, the only exception really being him being in the closet, but even then he only hid his crush specifically and not the fact that Percy is important to him). He fine with hugging his friends in front of a crowd and will sit with strangers at a campfire just so they’re not alone. I mean, heck, he’s an extrovert! We know this! He actively seeks out people and gets lonely very quickly and easily! If he can’t talk to living people he will chat with the dead! That’s how much he thrives on being social!
The only time Nico has ever been actively “cold” was the couple of months between TTC and BoTL when he was actively mourning Bianca. Nico is not “cold.” He loves so much and he does show it, just in his own way.
#pjo#riordanverse#nico di angelo#analysis#brought to you by: I saw a blurb for TSATS that said something like ''Will melted through Nico's icy heart/cold exterior''#and it made me want to tear something apart with my teeth because of how Blatantly Incorrect that is#like that is a disservice to both their characters.#a.) Will did not ''fix'' Nico or ''change'' him or anything. He is just a source of joy in Nico's life#TOA even explicitly acknowledges that them dating did not ''fix'' Nico and that Nico is actively getting outside help for his trauma/etc#and b.) Nico is not cold!!! He has never been a cold person!!! there's a reason ''emo'' is short for ''emotional!''#Nico's character is ENTIRELY DRIVEN BY LOVE AND CARE FOR OTHER PEOPLE#yes he's jaded but he's only jaded in a way of being afraid of letting people into his life because he's afraid to lose them#not that it stops him because it sure does keep happening anyways because SURPRISE. HE LOVES TOO MUCH.#HE LITERALLY CANNOT HELP HIMSELF HE LOVES PEOPLE SO STRONGLY AND SO DEEPLY HE CANNOT STAY JADED ABOUT IT#he just keeps going ''Okay *THIS* time I won't let this person into my life to risk heartbreak- AW FUCK I'VE DONE IT AGAIN''#SO MUCH of his character is entirely driven by ''I care about people. I dont want them to suffer what i have suffered or suffer at all''#like really the only times we ever see Nico being actively angry/snappy at people#is like a.) He is either actively being majorly hurt or has just recently been majorly hurt (Bianca's death. Being outed. etc)#b.) Someone is hurting others is going to bring harm to others (Calling out his dad in TLO. Killing Bryce)#or c.) Someone is doubting or calling into question his lived experiences (Basically any scene where people say he's pushing people away)#other than that Nico actually tends to give people way more lenience than necessary. he will put up with a LOT#and he won't even call people out on it or hold a grudge about it (i see you alleged Nico's fatal flaw. you're wrong)#unless it's like. something A Lot Of People Do Often (ex: push him away/exclude him/etc)#at which point he might be like. mildly upset about it but not much more then that. which is just a normal measured response.#anyways Nico's not cold he's just autistic
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phantom-thieves-official · 6 months ago
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p3 posting again but at the end of the game when you can talk to all the social links you maxed out. and for Akinari it's his mom you talk to instead of him. that scene makes me teary eyed every fucking time man. i honestly think akinari has one of (if not the) best social link in the game in terms of themes but man that conversation with his mom just really gets to me
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reflectionsofgalaxies · 7 months ago
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posting selfies because it’s been a hot minute since i showed my face on here and i have short(er) hair now! 🍄
this was at a folk music festival on the weekend that i’ve been going to with my family since before i was a year old. i got to take a new friend this year and it was so wonderful. a beautiful day with beautiful music, art, and people.
this festival is a much smaller one and has struggled in recent years to stay afloat, it runs at a deficit essentially, and is kept going by the community and dedicated volunteers for whom it is a labour of love. i love to see the effort put in to make it a safe, welcoming, accepting atmosphere to celebrate talented (mostly local) artists. 🎶
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sweetdreamspootypie · 8 months ago
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Overnight a patient deteriorated and he came to me in high dependency at 3am
At 5am the doctor called his wife and told her we don't think he's going to make it
she asked to talk to him, and we put the phone on the pillow and I pulled the curtain as she told him she loved him and I cried
I passed the phone back to the doctor who was also in tears
And a few moments later she was fully collected, calm and professional, ready to make the same phone call to his daughter, and clearly answering all the questions they had
At 7am the wife and daughter arrived, not sure if he was alive or not.
They talked to him for a while, reminding him of memories and holidays they went on
Then they talked together, the daughter asking questions about the life of the parents and their journey together. The beloved dog and the travels and the big decisions and how their loves came together from their separate upbringing.
Stories 60 to 80 years old, their childhoods all the way through, and the ships they sailed on.
The daughter learning her parents life anew with joy and love
Bringing calm and safety
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zannia · 9 months ago
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Miss Bunnii circa 2017? (when orange was the color scheme) Also that guy to the right is literally some random who became my bestie!!
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fragmentedblade · 11 months ago
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Not to be a jingfu on main, but it's so cute that Jing Yuan thought of Fu Xuan with those jelly beans
#me: the Xianzhou characters are all just coworkers#also me whenever anyone is shown to be fond and have intimate knowledge of some other character: awwww#Like Fu Xuan and Jing Yuan playing starchess and teasing each other or making a reference to things they like#or Jing Yuan talking about young Yukong#Quingque apparently disliking Fu Xuan but obviously that not being the case‚ knowing what she likes and how she thinks#Fu Xuan hiding that she has a sweet tooth but Jing Yuan and Quingque knowing it and teasing her for it#I don't know. There are a lot of instances of these small intimate details in the middle of what looks like a coworker relationship#Good coworkers‚ but coworkers nonetheless#And ironically it moves me so much? Even more so than Belobog. I've been told several times that Belobog seemed more tight. And I agree#In Belobog people were friends or family or companions but linked by something closer than mere coworkers with Wildfire#Even Sampo in the Underworld was strangely 'theirs'. He had the magenta colour of Wildfire and he was trusted to some extent#The Luofu characters don't have that. And yet the fragments of intimacy scattered through their interactions move me a lot#These are people who have known each other for centuries. Jing Yuan knows of Yukong's youth‚ its joy and grief#He knows Fu Xuan has a sweet tooth and teases her about her height. Quingque does too#Fu Xuan chastises both of them for being lazy but she knows they're smart and good at their job. She plays starchess with Jing Yuan#Quingque mocks Fu Xuan for being a workaholic but is very aware of the weight she carries both in her position and ideas about destiny#I won't mention Yanqing and Bailu because there is obviously more than a coworker bound when it comes to them#But yes I love the moments of intimate knowledge scattered through the Xianzhou‚ so telling of the fact that these people have known#each other for longer than several human lifetimes‚ and that perhaps they don't necessarily regard each other as more than their coworker#But perhaps that's enough in order for them to care. Perhaps in a lifetime over one thousand years the intimacy gained with a coworker#through several centuries is something beyond what we could understand in our decades lifespan#But also‚ perhaps‚ I don't know. Also‚ perhaps‚ the do care beyond coworkers in that strange line between work and friendship#Perhaps it's strange for Xianzhou natives to tell apart that kind of relationship after so much intimacy and knowledge through the years#And perhaps‚ once again‚ as it often happens for them‚ they think they'll always have enough time to tell; until they run out of it#They play chess together. Quingque can lose time because Fu Xuan can't stay mad if she brings her sweets. Are they just coworkers?#We play chess. I know what tea and sweets you like best. I brought them today since you would indulge me and play starchess with me#Thanks for playing with me‚ I'm running out of book puzzles. You keep divining my moves but I'll invent a fake story to distract you#Are we coworkers or something more like friends? Where is the line after so many years?#I talk too much but I love this charged nothingness haha I find it ironically so true to how many relationships in real life develop#And I find it so moving‚ that representation of this endearing smallness of everyday life. Of these small things is life made
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arolesbianism · 26 days ago
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Some more team captain ids! This time with the middle layer gang 👍
#keese draws#oc art#oc#lobotomy corporation#lob corp oc#featuring one of my og favorite children mason <3333#which evidently shows in her being the least of a wip among these three#I ofc did do some parker brainstorming a while back but I’ve been second guessing many of the concepts I latched onto#mostly the bloodfiend thing it just feels too like. basic I guess?#like in terms of making nuggets that aren’t fully human I just find that to be too easy and kind of boring#in terms of what I personally have fun writing to be clear#and especially as I’ve made more nuggets who have some fuckery going on with their age and/or human status the bloodfiend idea just doesn’t#grip me the same way and as such it’s made parker as they stand a less appealing character to keep working on to me#so I’ll probably play around with some other options#the main thing I wanna maintain is their general philosophy in life and basic personality#so I have plenty of options I just need to start making shit up#as for eva she’s just kind of suffered from being in too close proximity to mason since I got her#as in I hired them both literally at the same time and was instantly smitten with mason#she and her sister got massively overshadowed by mason to the point that I let said sister die while trying to complete my first dusk ordea#now tbf I Did like her and hannah (said sister) but I had already had my last near victory go to shit due to little red so I was willing to#make the sacrifice despite my general attitude of keeping my guys alive no matter what#now tbf. I Could have brought her back with a memory repository. but this was also back when I stubbornly refused to use them so.#but yeah because I adored mason and eva went from having one noteworthy dynamic to zero she didn’t get to float in my mind much#and yes I know I know her sister died and that’s a big thing for her but my joy in suffering energy was going towards mason at the time#since he was my newly appointed censored guy#but now that I’ve gotten over the mason craze and have been working on developing my guys more eva has been growing on me#particularly because of the captains she’s probably the least shitty (no one tell mason) while also being one of few ppl here who’s faced#such a devistating loss so unnecessarily#she’s genuinely trying to be a good boss and a good person all while falling apart at the seams and I think she should have some#ego corrosion going on because I think she should be psychologically tormented even more <3
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dark-and-kawaii · 2 months ago
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♡ Imagine Nanami cradling his newborn daughter tenderly. His blonde locks that were once neatly slicked back now messily frame his face- serving as playthings for tiny, curious hands. The infant giggles, gripping and curling her fingers, attempting to grab at her father’s hair with pure delight. Nanami’s heart swelled, a genuine smile appearing across his face.
“Ya know… Fatherhood really suits you, you know that?” You murmured, resting your head against his arm.
Nanami looked down at you, his eyes- always so tired from the cruelties of the world and working far too much, were now soft with affection, “I never thought I would have a life like this… I always felt it was far out of my reach…”
“Kento…”
He brought his daughter up to his face, his lips pressing a kiss to her forehead. His voice was a low whisper, yet you still managed to hear his words, “I love you. Both of you. More than anything in the world.”
You could see it, not only in his smile, but his eyes as well… they held some fear. Afraid of the life he led, afraid of it coming to take the family he had so lovingly built away from him. Nanami had seen much in his time as a sorcerer. The loss of people dear to him- their deaths never failing to haunt him… He was scared… Scared of leaving you both behind, scared of the what-ifs…
“Kento, you worry far too much. I promise we'll be here, right by your side. Always and forever, okay? You’re always going to awaken to me in your strong arms.” You give his bicep a soft squeeze, “no way anyone could get past these bad boys.”
A low chuckle rumbled in his throat, holding his baby girl in one arm, he used the one you squeezed to bring you into a loving embrace, drawing you even closer to his body. Drawing you closer into his world, a world he once thought would be forever in solitude. This was all a simple moment, but Nanami felt the full weight of this newfound joy- the joy of being a father and a loving husband to you. Nothing could've prepared him for this profound privilege.
You were his home. And for the first time, he allowed himself to relax and trust in your words… that everything would be alright...
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wishing-on-dragons · 1 year ago
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Rest In Peace Akira Toriyama <3
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chuluoyi · 6 months ago
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𝐃𝐀𝐖𝐍'𝐒 𝐅𝐈𝐑𝐒𝐓 𝐋𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓
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- zayne x reader
as dawn breaks, a new chapter begins. now husband and wife in the truest sense, both of you embark on the path of happiness together. yet, bittersweet loose ends remain still. will they eventually stay in the past for good, or cast a permanent shadow over your lives?
genre/warnings: 18+ suggestive content—minors do not interact!—fluff, angst, hurt/comfort, pregnancy & sex, mentions of complications related to pregnancy, brief description of childbirth (c-section), hunter!reader (not l&ds mc -> l&ds mc is zayne's late ex-girlfriend here)
note: part 2 to nocturne of twilight. my god, i honestly didn't expect it'd turn out into another 8k fic but here we go :')
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Lately, Zayne has come to realize just how much joy you bring to home when you’re happy.
Your smile and giggles simply light up the place.
And moreover, you get happy at the simplest of things—head pats, his snowmen... Even when he responds with jabs just to get a rise out of you, there's always a part of his heart that softens.
Today began just like one of those joyful days. He dropped you off at the Hunter Association base before heading to the hospital, and later, he planned to pick you up and perhaps stop for macarons on the way home—
Or so he thought, until...
"Hello, Dr. Zayne! Sorry for startling you. Can you come to my office? Your wife just collapsed and she is brought here."
. . .
Zayne raced to Dr. Munson's office on the third floor, panic gradually overtook his every step. His mind whirled with all the possible reasons you might end up at—
Ob-gyn office. Wait, what?
The realization struck him just as he flung open the door to his colleague’s office.
"Ah, the man of the hour has arrived!" Dr. Munson greeted him with an ear-to-ear grin.
Zayne gave a quick nod but bypassed him to head straight to the bed where you were.
You looked pale and sluggish, your eyes squeezed shut. He immediately took your hand in his, interlacing your fingers, and you opened your eyes in surprise to see him there.
"Zayne..." you murmured, giving his hand a gentle squeeze and offering a faint smile.
"How are you feeling?" he asked, his voice filled with concern as he gently touched your cool cheek.
"A bit dizzy..."
Seeing you so meek made something inside him lurch. Just this morning, you had been full of life, pouting and playfully teasing him, and now you looked so exhausted.
"Well, maybe you already know this, Dr. Zayne, but still, congratulations!" Dr. Munson clapped his hands merrily. "Your wife is pregnant!"
Pregnant. Zayne stood frozen for a moment. In truth, while the very thought flitted in his mind from the moment he walked in, it didn't make it less surprising all the same. "I see..."
Then he turned to look at you, and to his surprise, you looked away, a shy smile played at your lips, as if you were trying to make yourself as small as possible.
A child. You were with child. His child.
"How far along?"
"Almost ten weeks, give or take. Well, aren't you the one who knows the most?"
"Is she alright? Anything I need to watch out for?"
"Ooh! How sweet!" Dr. Munson laughed crisply. "The cool-headed Dr. Zayne is worrying about his wife! The nurses are going to have a field day when they know this~"
Zayne shot him a look, but didn’t miss a beat as he retorted, "Of course I am."
You looked up at him silently, your heart fluttering at his earnest response. Zayne had always been resilient, but now he seemed more dashing than usual as he fired questions after questions at Dr. Munson about you and the baby.
Baby... both of you were going to become parents. It still felt surreal, but with Zayne’s warm grip on your hand, it began to feel real. You were almost giddy.
But then, it struck you— the baby was around ten weeks.
Then it meant the day of the conception was that night.
. . .
“Here, hold onto me.”
Zayne opened the door to his car and supported you as you carefully stepped out. You were still unsteady on your feet, so he returned you back home to rest rather than heading back to the Hunter Association’s base.
“Have you been feeling unwell these past few days?” he wrapped an arm around your shoulder as you made your way inside. “Usually, the symptoms have been noticeable for a while.”
“Hmmm,” you pursed your lips, feigning coyness. “I... don’t think so?”
Zayne quirked an eyebrow, sending you a withering stare as he realized your ruse. “So you have.”
“Hehe...” you flashed him a sheepish grin, causing him to shake his head in exasperation and pinch your cheek. “Ow!” you squeaked, quickly bringing your hand to your face.
Zayne stifled a smile, then gently guided you to the sofa. He crouched down in front of you, meeting your gaze as he took both of your hands in his.
"You need to tell me these things from now on, alright?" he said, and his steadfast gaze made butterflies flutter in your stomach.
"We..." you started, steeling yourself, "are going to have a baby," you gulped, feeling heat spreading to your cheeks.
He was unfazed. "Mm, we are."
You shifted uneasily, avoiding his gaze. "Are you... happy?"
Your voice wavered at the end, and your hand felt clammy. Suddenly, your stomach too twisted with nausea. Who would've thought that you would conceive a baby from a night that he called a mistake?
However, Zayne tilted his head, seemingly taken aback. "I am."
"Huh?"
"I am happy," he repeated, blinking back at you. "Are you?"
You gaped, caught off guard by his candid response—but then again, when had your husband ever been anything but straightforward?
"But you don’t seem happy!" you accused, pursing your lips. "You’ve been frowning the whole way home."
He shot you a flat look, his expression unchanged. "This is just my face."
You continued to pout, and Zayne sighed. His frown softened as he gently cupped your face, making you look up at him.
"You silly girl, what husband won't be thrilled when they hear that his wife is expecting?" he caressed your face, before poking it. "I'm just worried about you, you still look pale."
"You..." your eyes found his uneasily, at a loss of words. "But this baby is…" Your gaze dropped, anxiety swelling. "From… the night of—"
Your response stunned him, and you didn't dare to look him in the eye. It was still something that gnawed at you inside, because what if—
What if he thought this baby is a mistake?
In that moment, understanding dawned on him. His ashen eyes widened in surprise. You braced yourself for his reaction, but then—
His hand rested on your head, patting you gently. "You carrying our baby..." he faltered, gazed fixed on your averted eyes and then lips. His voice came almost in a whisper:
"This... is the best thing that has happened to me."
Thump! Your heart soared, warmth flooding through you in that very instant as you met his gaze. On the contrary, Zayne felt a crushing weight seeing the tears shining in your eyes. How deeply had he hurt you before that you’d doubt his feelings?
"I promised you that I’ll treasure you better," he said, pulling strands of your hair behind your ears. "This time, let me prove it to you."
Somehow you felt like crying at the sheer sincerity in his words. "You... like the baby?"
A gentle smile touched his lips as he took your hand and pressed a kiss to it. "I do. Truly."
"I... am so happy too," you finally choked up, the first tear slipping down your cheek. You quickly brushed it away, feeling a bit silly for tearing up. "I... have always wanted us to be a family..."
Zayne pulled you into his arms, letting out an exasperated but fond sigh. "A certain someone really does like to cry... And now with a baby on the way, am I going to lose my mind worrying about both of you?"
"Hmph," you wrinkled your nose. "A certain dad-to-be better work on his skills to express himself better, then."
"I'm going to focus my energy on more important things, such as thinking of all ways I should do to keep you from getting into trouble."
"...? I don't get into trouble!"
"You stumble even on empty air, I've seen it myself."
Two years ago, you had envisioned your happily ever after with him, and then you weren't sure if you would get it at all. And now, as you walked towards a new beginning together, you were wholly certain.
At least, that was what you thought.
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The days following the reveal of your pregnancy were filled with bliss.
Only that, sometimes... you ask for tall order—
"Zayne... I want that plushie..."
"We have tried it three times already. That machine is rigged."
"B-but! Look, that couple won some!"
Some weeks later, the two of you were at an arcade, and your eyes were literally shining as soon as you saw the Happy Snowman plushie in the claw machine.
And ever since, you had been tugging at his sleeve and dragging him to catch it for you... only to no avail so far.
Zayne pinched the bridge of his nose. "With the way you’re acting, no one would believe you’re about to become a mom."
"Isn't that the whole point?" you fired back, puckering your lips, before mustering your best puppy eyes and bringing your hands together. "Please? Baby wants it so much."
He knew you were using the baby card just to get your way, but you looked so adorable doing it that it often worked—evident from how he lined up once more for the long queue at the claw machine.
"This is the last time," he decided, giving you a flat stare when you two reached your turn. "If we lose, we're buying the one in the souvenir shop."
"Teehee~" you giggled in delight. You'd get your plushie either way. Zayne was always listening to you even with his grumbles, and it made you inwardly kick your feet in joy.
Despite being cross, Zayne was better at this than you. He almost snagged some plushies several times, and this time, he skillfully maneuvered the claw, pressing the button with precision—
“Oh!” Your eyes sparkled as the claw secured your prized Happy Snowman. “Zayne! Just a little more!”
"Yeah, yeah..."
Just like that, the claw released the snowman into the hole. As soon Zayne handed it to you, you practically squealed. "Ahh! Finally I got you!"
You were so full of childlike excitement, even though you were just months away from bringing a child into the world yourself. Zayne watched you silently, and despite himself, a soft smile tugged at his lips.
"Do you want more?" he asked. "We still have three chances left."
"Yes!" You beamed at him. "I want the penguin and crow!"
Apparently, he was weak to your wishes. He then took the machine again, and maybe luck blessed him this time because soon enough, he got you two of them right after the chances ran out.
“Hehe! We’re bringing them home!” You patted each plushie with delight, your giggles drawing the attention of nearby kids.
"Mom, look! That uncle gets many plushies!"
Zayne felt his eyes twitch. Uncle...?
You tried and utterly failed to hold back your laugh.
And you heard another couple bickering nearby as they threw glances at you and your husband—
"I want that crow plushie..." the woman lamented, despondently eyeing the claw machine and the three plushies Zayne had managed to win for you.
Her boyfriend, a scary-looking tall man with red eyes and rider garbs, turned to her with a snort. "Why would you even need that ugly crow for? We have crow at home."
"...Mephisto doesn't count! You're just saying that because your luck and skill are trash!"
"Tch. I can open a whole arcade just so you can tear those plushies into shreds, sweetie... just so you know, there’s a price when dealing with a devil, hmm?"
Opening an arcade only to satisfy his girlfriend's wants? You thought in a passing. Crazy.
. . .
And then your emotions are practically a whirlwind of roller coaster...
“You’re mean!” you sniffled, pointing a righteous finger at your husband and the kitty cards on the table. “You always reduce my kitties whenever you get the chance!”
Zayne exhaled, trying to explain himself. “I just make do with the cards I’m dealt with.”
“But you’re trying to take out my cats all the time!”
“That’s the gameplay. If I let you win, you’d say I’m underestimating you.”
“So, are you saying I’m bad at this?” You looked at the cards with heartbreak etched on your face, your lips quivering. “Am I?”
Uh-oh, he knew what it was. You were a stone throw away from bursting into tears and one wrong word could set you off altogether.
“No, you’re not bad...” he began, carefully choosing his words. “The kitties... they’re just not cooperating with you, that’s all.”
“So, they’re cooperating with you,” you pouted, cross. “Is that what you’re trying to say?!”
Sigh... this is going to take a while...
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But ultimately... you’re also incredibly precious.
“I’m going to make an amigurumi for our baby,” you announced, smiling brightly as you settled between his legs with a crochet kit and a snowman pattern in hand. “I just know they’ll like it.”
“You know how to crochet?” Zayne asked, resting his chin on your shoulder and slipping an arm around your waist, gently touching your growing bump.
“Hmph!” You tilted your chin up with a smirk, turning to face him. “Of course, I can!”
“Oh…?”
“It’s a little side hobby,” you explained with a giggle. “I can’t resist having and making cute things~”
Zayne thought he’d laugh, but instead, it was a wave of bittersweetness that washed over him. Because apparently, even after being married to you for two years, there were some things about you he didn’t know.
He was fond of you. He knew you liked a fair amount of sweets, what your favorite food and color were, and that you couldn't sleep without turning off the lights. But then he realized...
"Does it have to be a snowman?" he asked, his eyes fixed on how skillfully you handled the hooks.
"Mm-hmm! It does."
"Why do you like it so much anyway?"
"Ah..." Your movements paused slightly, and you suddenly looked down, a hint of sheepishness in your expression. "Well..."
This way, you looked adorable somehow. Zayne squeezed you gently. "Hmm?"
"You might not remember it... but the first time we met..." you felt heat creeping up to your face but pressed on nonetheless. "I asked you to demonstrate your Evol and you showed me by creating a snowman out of thin air."
Right at that moment, Zayne could've sworn that his heart skipped a beat. That meeting... how many years ago was it? Five? Six?
He could barely remember it until you mentioned it, and yet you held that memory dear.
"Maybe it sounds stupid to you," you puffed out your cheeks. "But I think you’re similar to a snowman. You look cold on the outside, but you bring happiness to so many people. You save lives…"
The way you described him so highly made him flutter inside. Suddenly he felt soft. Soft for you. You were utterly precious, genuine and all this time, he hadn't even truly realized it.
"And to me, you..." you gulped, suddenly self-conscious. "You are... warm, just like the sun..."
The sincerity in your words touched him so deeply that it left him speechless. You had loved him and it was evident in all your actions.
Now the question is, has he done the same for you?
You brightened his life just by being yourself. Most of the time cheery, sometimes snarky, and often times decidedly spoiled... all those sides of you—
He adores them all. And he knows he'll treasure you until the end of time. And now, he's going to show you that.
Before he realized it, he had planted a kiss on the nape of your neck, and you sucked in a breath as you dropped the crochet hooks. "Zayne...?"
And then his lips pressed harder, trailing kisses along your neck, while his hands slipped inside your pajama top, caressing your skin ever so gently. The unexpected touch made you unwittingly moan.
"Can you... finish crocheting another day?" he breathed in your ear, cupping your breasts tenderly, and you almost jolted. "I'll be gentle, I promise."
It felt as if your face had caught fire, your whole body flushing with sudden excitement. Your heart raced wildly at his husky voice, and the very thought that your husband desired you was deeply thrilling.
"But you..." your voice hitched, trying not focus on his fingers. "...are never gentle."
Zayne blinked at you in surprise. "Am... I? That's not true."
"Should I jog your memory?" You pursed your lips. "One time, you threw me on the bed—"
"Well—"
"And that time you had me on all fours—"
"That's—"
"And the night we conceived this baby too—"
"Right. Alright." Zayne’s cheeks flushed with warmth as he released his grip on your mounds. "You might have a point, but this time, I assure you…"
He turned you to face him, and before you could even react, he leaned in close, his breath tickling your collarbone as he whispered:
"I will take good care of you tonight."
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He made good on his promise.
This time, his hands moved with a gentleness that took your breath away. Zayne started with peppering your skin in soft, lingering kisses—starting at your jaw, then trailing down your neck, collarbone, and chest.
And when his lips finally reached the slightly visible but firm swell of your belly, he paused, pressing a kiss there that seemed to hold all the love he had for your baby.
The sight pulled at your heartstrings. The very fact that Zayne cherished this little life growing inside you filled you with a happiness so profound, it nearly overwhelmed you.
And soon...
"Ahh... aah!" you writhed, arching your back, your lower body laid bare as his tongue lapped eagerly at your folds. It was, by far, the most erotic thing your husband had done to you— he usually didn’t spend this much time for your pleasure.
But as always, he was not much of a talker during sex. Only dangerous gleam in his eyes as he glanced up from between your trembling thighs that let you know he had no plans of stopping anytime soon.
"Ngh!" You gasped when the tight ball of nerves inside you finally burst, mewling helplessly as you yanked on his hair, and he ate you out even more greedily in response. You had always known it, but moments like this made it undeniable—
Zayne turns completely into a different man while bedding you. Who would have guessed that the stoic, straight-laced head of cardiac surgery could be reduced to a man consumed by lust at the sight of his wife's body?
. . .
He had always liked having you on top. This time, Zayne made sure to prepare you exceptionally well before easing himself inside you, yet, just like every other time, you still felt impossibly tight around him.
“Ah, ah... I-I’m—!” you whimpered tearfully, your walls clenching around his girth, face overtaken by sheer pleasure. “’s full...”
It didn't take him long to bust, really. With a beautiful wife sitting on top of him, eliciting sounds like that... how could he resist?
But maybe he pushed you too hard. Lust won against all his senses as he relentlessly slammed his hips against yours, and he distinctly felt the moment you stifled a scream and came hard around him.
"Are you... alright?" Zayne asked in a groan as he reached his orgasm, his release flooding inside your womb in a rush as you clung into him tightly, shuddering and spasming.
You nodded and collapsed against him, savoring the feeling of how filled up you were. In return, he cradled you close as he slowly pulled out of you. "I-I... am..."
You curled into him, and he pressed a tender kiss on your head. In that moment, you truly felt that there were only two of you in this vast world.
Gently, he lifted you—one arm supporting your legs, the other around your back—and carried you to the bathroom to clean you up.
. . .
“Drink.” Zayne held the cool glass of water to your lips, and you obediently took a sip, your gaze lingering on the gap in his bathrobe where his chest peeked out.
He was so, so considerate. He carefully handled you as he washed your body and wrapped you in the bathrobe earlier, soothing you each time you let out a whine.
It was the most comforting aftercare you had experienced. After making sure you weren’t parched, he tucked you under the comforters, joining you soon after and pulling you close.
“Are you comfortable now?” he asked quietly, straightening your hair.
“Mm-hmm.” You snuggled closer with a smile, tracing a finger along his chest.
Somehow the way he cared for you now made you remember how your relationship was back then. He didn’t dote on you this much, he was good to you but you knew deep in your hearts that he wasn’t really there. But now…
He is yours. In every sense.
“You’re tickling me,” Zayne tutted gruffly, catching your hand and pressing it to his chest.
“So? What will you do?” you teased with a playful grin. “Will you eat me up again?”
“…” His narrowed eyes made you giggle, and you pressed yourself even closer, relishing the afterglow.
You had promised yourself not to bring it up again, but feeling vulnerable in this moment, you couldn’t help but whisper:
“You… have changed,” you muttered under your breath. “Thank you… for thinking of me.”
You couldn’t see his expression, but his arms tightened around you suddenly. Warmth spread through you, feeling as though he were shielding you from the world itself.
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Weeks passed by, and soon enough, you reached the middle of your second trimester.
“We’re going to find out the gender today!” you excitedly noted in the passenger’s seat. Zayne glanced at you with a smile, silently looking forward to it too.
He was relieved that your first trimester had passed smoothly, with only a few bouts of sickness. Now, before he knew it, you were already halfway through the journey.
“If it’s a girl, I hope she won’t be a troublemaker like her mom,” he slyly retorted.
You shot him a glare. “And if it’s a boy, I’ll make sure he doesn’t spend all his time studying and turn into a robot like you.”
The journey to fatherhood still didn’t feel entirely real to him with your chirpy self, but as your belly swelled and rounded with each passing week, he began to realize that the day was quickly approaching.
It made him feel warm, and he wished he could show it to you better just how much happiness you brought to him now.
You rummaged through your bag and exclaimed, "Oh, I forgot the appointment card!"
Zayne sighed, turning the steering wheel with a small shake of his head. "See? The little mom can be so scatterbrained at times."
You slouched in your seat, crestfallen. "Sorry..."
"It’s alright," he gave your hand a gentle squeeze as he noticed your expression drop. "I’ll get it. Where did you leave it?"
"In the first drawer of my vanity desk, I think…"
After arriving back at home, Zayne headed straight to your shared bedroom and searched through your drawers. The first drawer only had your perfumes, so he moved on to the second drawer, which apparently only had more makeup supplies.
And so, he pulled the third drawer, and there were a stack of envelopes there. Curious, he pulled one out, thinking it was the card he was looking for—
—but then, suddenly, he was in a state of shock. Never would have he expected to find what he had on his hand then.
For a moment, everything around him seemed to blur, his entire world reduced to those three stark words on the page. His mind struggled to process what he was seeing, a heavy weight settling in his stomach as the realization hit him.
Petition of Divorce — and your signature... was there.
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Something seemed a bit off about Zayne, you noticed later that day.
You were really looking forward to finding out the baby's gender, and you thought he was too. He stood by your side all the while, holding your hand as the ultrasound probe pressed against your skin and you waited with bated breath for Dr. Munson to announce—
“Well, it’s a girl!” he declared with a wide grin. “Whoa, Dr. Zayne is going to be a girl dad, huh?”
“Oh my…” Your eyes sparkled with joy at the news. You were fine with either, but you knew Zayne had secretly been hoping for a girl, and you turned to him with pure elation. However...
“That’s… good.” His response was brief, and although he was smiling, something felt off. You had been observing him for too long not to notice—you knew when your husband was distracted.
What is he thinking? Despite yourself, you began to worry.
“Zayne?” you asked later, holding his arm as you both exited Dr. Munson’s office. “Are you thinking about work?”
He turned to you almost immediately. “No.”
“Then why are you frowning?” you asked innocently, trying to lighten the mood by touching his face. He swiftly caught your hand.
“This is a public place,” he said in a strained voice, causing you to stiffen at his tone. “I’ll take you home first.”
Something was not right. Now you were convinced and it started to bother you.
“Actually… I need to go to the Hunter Association's base first to finish my deskwork,” you said.
His brows furrowed even deeper. “Can’t you just submit your leave?”
“Ah... I’m on half-day leave today. I need to wrap up as much as I can before I go on maternity leave later.”
“Next time,” he snapped, his gray eyes locked on you, “Whenever you have appointments, take a full-day leave. You’re in no condition to be working, especially as you get further along.”
"Zayne, are you... upset with me?" you fired the question then, because it seemed like he really did, and suddenly you felt a bit sick at the very thought.
He was certainly not expecting you to ask that, and for a moment, Zayne froze, before he exhaled and his frown softened a bit.
“…no,” he finally said, his tone gentler. “I just don’t want you to push yourself too hard.”
But ever since that day, you knew something had happened to him that he suddenly he became a little distant towards you.
. . .
Zayne hadn’t meant to snap at you. If anything, knowing you were carrying a baby girl filled him with unbridled happiness.
But still, there was still a part of him that wanted to demand answers from you—that part of him that was deeply hurt by what he discovered.
In hindsight, maybe he shouldn’t take it too hard. No matter how much he reflected on it, he knew he hadn’t been the husband you deserved. He knew his faults and understood how much he had hurt you. From the very beginning, you deserved someone who would see only you and no one else—and he hadn't been that person before.
Even with that understanding, he was left with an unresolved hollowness. You had doubted him enough that you were ready to file for a divorce once. It didn't mean that the same thing wouldn't happen in the future.
Does he have it in him to make you happy? He had promised you he would. While he wasn't the most affectionate, he tried his best, and he intended to keep trying.
But now, after learning this, he found that not only you, but even he too was able to doubt himself.
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"Zayne...?"
You peeked your head inside his study one night, several weeks later, a hand resting on your bump. You really didn't want to bother him when he just arrived, but you figured you had to tell him.
For the past week, you’d been throwing up, and it didn’t feel right. He had been at a symposium in another city since the start of the week, and you tried to wait it out. But today, you almost blacked out, and now you were genuinely afraid.
"Y/N?" he turned to you just as he laid his briefcase and the moment he saw you, he frowned at how pale you looked.
Zayne immediately stalked towards you and pulled you closer, feeling your neck to check your body temperature. His eyes widened in realization. "You have a fever."
"I-I... feel lightheaded today," you sputtered, clutching his arm. "And... I’ve been vomiting too..."
"I'll get you checked in at Akso," he decided, grabbing the car keys and led you out of the room by the shoulder. "Why didn't you tell me in your calls?"
Very lame excuse, but you tried to defend yourself nonetheless. "It wasn't this severe before—"
"You should have told me." His response was curt, but his fury was evident. You almost shrank at his tone, but Zayne didn't reprimand you further as he helped you into the passenger seat.
The drive was tense and uncomfortable, making you feel even worse. The silence only amplified your anxiety, and it didn't help that you had noticed how distant he was lately.
"I'm sorry—" you blurted but then suddenly, you sucked in a breath, wincing and fisting your dress when you felt the start of a cramp just below your ribs. "Ahh..."
Zayne’s panic surged at your pained gasp. He gripped your hand reassuringly, all trace of anger vanishing instantly. "We’ll arrive soon. I promise you’ll be alright."
At that moment, despite all fears you had—for your baby, of his sudden shift of behavior—you held back your sob and squeezed his hand in return.
. . .
You would be staying at the hospital until all the test results came in.
Zayne sat on the chair beside you, gaze fixed on you as you lay connected to an IV drip in the private room. Though he tried to mask it, he was still shaken. He knew better than anyone that fever and cramps at more than 20 weeks often signaled something was wrong with either the mother or the baby.
The thought of ailments beyond his control affecting either of you made his chest tighten. He loosened his tie and let out a sigh, trying to ease the constriction. "How do you feel now?"
You looked at him, managing a smile as you replied, "I’m fine now."
Seeing you bedridden like this was something he hadn’t realized he dreaded until that moment, and yet, there you were, smiling. You... smiled.
He couldn’t understand why the sight he usually adored suddenly stirred this swirling anger in him.
Your answer seemed to hit a nerve in him as his expression darkened, and anxiety struck you again, twisting something in your gut. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you before..."
His lack of response only deepened your unease. "Before today, I didn’t feel faint at all, so I think it’s just something I ate."
He still didn't deign you with any answer. Zayne’s apparent disregard for your words frustrated you, bringing you close to tears. "Say something..." you urged, feeling the tears burn behind your eyes. "I know you're upset, but now I'm scared too."
You really wanted him to comfort you. You knew the Zayne from several weeks ago would do just that, but now you had a feeling that the man before you now wasn't that same man any longer.
"We’ll see when the results are ready," he said then, facing you with a stoic, matter-of-fact tone, as if he were delivering a diagnosis to a patient rather than speaking to his wife. "Don’t fret too much. Have some rest."
Is that... all he has to say to you? A part of your heart withered at his detached response, the tears frozen in your eyes. What happened to him?
You were about to confront him for an answer when his phone suddenly vibrated in his pocket. He pulled it out and answered.
"Hello? Yes, it's Zayne. Who is this?" he questioned flatly, eyes narrowed into a dissatisfied frown, before suddenly his expression lit up with understanding when the person on the other line introduced themselves.
You could hear the faint sound of a man's voice from his phone. And when Zayne addressed him, a sudden chill spread throughout your body.
"Caleb? It's... been a while."
You felt cold. Caleb. You never really knew him but you had certainly seen him. Once at a funeral, and once at your wedding. He too is Zayne's childhood friend, and more than that, he is the brother of—
Why? Why did all emotional suffering you had to go through, somehow or another, always come down to a dead woman who was once your husband's lover?
When he ended this call, you didn't even pretend to be considerate anymore. "What does he want from you?"
Zayne looked taken aback by your sudden hostility but answered calmly, "He’s in Linkon now and asked if we could meet."
"Must you really see him?"
"What are you getting at?"
"I don’t like it," you spat, venom clear in your voice, turning to him. "I don’t like it at all when you have to be involved with people related to her!"
Finally, you said it. You had never made it clear before, but this time, you felt like you were entitled enough to. You were having his daughter, and if he was still entangled in an illusion of his past girlfriend with you, then—
Zayne responded to your outburst with a suppressed sigh, visibly keeping his frustration in check. "He is an old friend, Y/N. You're too emotional right now that you jump into conclusions and stress yourself out."
He was right, your emotions were spiraling, but right now you were too heartbroken to care for it.
"Do you know what I fear the most?" you asked, tears shining in your eyes. At last, you voiced the dark, unspoken curse that had haunted you since the very beginning of it all:
"I’m afraid that one day, you’ll wake up and realize that either me or our baby is a mistake."
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Zayne barely got any rest that night.
In the end, faced with your tears, he didn't respond because he didn't want to prolong the argument. More strain for you could put both you and the baby at risk.
Later, he told himself. No matter how much he berated himself for not noticing the signs of your illness sooner, or wanted show you that you and his unborn child meant everything to him now— later. He wouldn't risk you, and it would be better if you talk later with cooler heads.
Little did he know, that "later" would never come.
Numerous missed phone calls from the nurses station after he stepped out of the operating room sealed your fate. And when Greyson burst into his office, out of breath and panic-stricken, it was like being doused in scalding water.
"Dr. Zayne! Miss Y/N! Sh-she has just been rushed to ER for severe bleeding!"
Just like that, his world crashed and shattered beyond return.
. . .
"Dr. Zayne, I'm not sure how I should break this news to you... As a medical professional, you already know how serious this condition is..."
Everything was his greatest nightmare realized. Dr. Munson’s diagnosis struck him with a searing force, paralyzing him on the spot.
"Your wife has preeclampsia."
The nurses said you had been screaming and bleeding heavily. He too had seen it himself—the blood splattered across the pristine floor when he arrived, just moments after you were rushed to the emergency room—and the sight made a chill run through his spine in horror.
"She just experienced a partial placental abruption because of it. This causes bleeding in the mother, and also increases the risk of premature labor."
Dr. Munson’s explanation was crystal clear, yet it sent Zayne into a daze. It felt as if his chest had been ripped open, leaving him hollow as he stared numbly at your figure, peacefully asleep after the emergency treatment you had been put through.
Zayne clasped your hand in his, feeling the invincible knife lodged in his heart twist painfully.
You aren't supposed to be this cold. He gently griped your hand, his face contorted with agony. How terrified must you have been? How much did it hurt? Despite trying to push the memories away, seeing you like this brought back the nightmare from three years ago.
Only that this time, it was you. And not just you, but his unborn child as well. Both of you... there was a chance that both of you wouldn't survive.
The sheer thought made him stagger, because no, if it was the devil’s way to punish him, then it was beyond cruel. He had failed you once already, and he knew what happiness was by being with you, and to lose all of that in one blow—
"Zayne! Can you make me one more snowman?" you pleaded, your eyes sparkling as you pointed to the little gap between snowmen already perched on the window. "Just one more! It’ll make the line perfect!"
"I’m afraid that one day, you’ll wake up and realize that either me or our baby is a mistake."
It was so, so painful. His chest constricted at the contrasting memories and it took everything he had not to give in to his spiraling fears.
With everything I have, I love you. None of it mattered anymore. The divorce papers, whether he could make you happy— what was important was that It was unthinkable to lose you now. He would trade his life if it meant sparing you, because the pain of losing you would destroy him.
You had always loved that little thing he made on a whim. He opened your palm and shaped the ice through his manipulation, placing the palm-sized snowman in your grasp, hoping it would protect you throughout the night.
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You remembered the excruciating pain, the primal dread of losing your baby, and the horrifying sight of crimson streaming endlessly between your legs, also how you screamed for anyone for help.
When you regained consciousness, the scent of fresh linen and alcohol was the first thing that greeted you. Dawn had already arrived, but the sky outside remained dark.
Your right palm felt cold, and that’s when you realized you were holding something. At the same time, you noticed the weight in your other hand—
Zayne. Your husband slept on the edge of your bed in such an uncomfortable position while holding your hand, his brows taut into a frown, only with a coat to cover himself.
He is here. You quietly watched him, and despite everything, you realized once again how much you loved him—even more that he was here for you.
Snowman… you stared at the little toy in your other hand, and overwhelming warmth washed over you at the thought of him creating it for you just before he slept.
The baby… what did you go through? Is she fine? You really couldn’t shake the feeling that something grave had happened to you.
You had to know. You pulled your left hand out of his grasp and caressed his face. He has to shave soon, you noted, feeling the stubble that had started to grow there. Still, you couldn't help but marvel at how handsome he was.
Your gentle touch soon caused his eyes to flutter open, and Zayne jerked awake, instinctively catching your hand. "You're awake..." he rasped, his voice rough with exhaustion.
He looked at you as if he was in disbelief, and immediately rose and squeezed your hand. You looked up to him, feebly asking, "What... happened to me?"
His face fell right that moment but you pressed on, "Tell me. I have to know..."
Zayne's reluctance was obvious, but the plea in your voice made him waver. Finally, he sighed and sat down on the edge of your bed.
"The test results have come back," he began, his voice adopting the clinical tone you recognized from when he spoke to his patients. "Your blood pressure is abnormally high, and there was protein found in your urine sample... These are signs of a condition called preeclampsia."
Shock marred your features in that moment, because you had heard what it was and what it meant for your baby.
"The only cure for preeclampsia is delivery. And at the same time the placenta has detached from the wall of your womb. This way, our baby—"
You had watched Zayne deliver devastating diagnoses to his patients before, and he was always steadfast. But this time, even his voice wavered.
His gray eyes seemed to glisten under the light as they held your gaze. "She's being deprived of oxygen and nutrients because the placenta can no longer supply them. You may also experience heavier bleeding, more cramps, and fetal distress. The best course of action now is to deliver the baby as soon as possible."
It felt like receiving death sentence. No matter how you looked at it, the conclusion was the same. "B-but..." you stammered, your whole body trembling, shaken by the enormity of it all. "S-she's just... barely twenty-six weeks..."
The way devastation bled in your voice pierced him. Without a word, Zayne pulled you into his arms, letting out a long, drawn-out breath as he held you close.
"I'm here," he assured, trying to console you. "You don't have to be scared. We'll monitor you closely until it's possible for you to give birth to the baby in around thirty weeks. I'll make sure of that."
The first of your sobs began. "...i-is it me?" you clutched at his coat mournfully. "Did I… p-put the baby into distress somehow— that it causes the placenta to fall away?"
"No," he firmly shushed you. "It's a condition that can flare up anytime. Don't blame yourself for it."
Still, how could you not? More than yourself, you feared for your unborn child. You sobbed harder, and Zayne held you even as his coat had started to dampen from your tears.
Your predicament broke his heart too, but at the same time, he found the perfect moment to finally show you the entirety of his heart.
"You told me you were afraid I'd come to see both of you as a mistake," he murmured, gently running his hand through your hair in an attempt to soothe you. "But how can our daughter be a mistake when—" his voice caught, choking on the words, "—when I've loved her so much already?"
The strain in his voice made you look up, and you were taken aback by the intensity of his gray eyes that bored into you.
“Both of you... are so precious to me.” Zayne locked his eyes with yours, sincerely meaning everything he said as he cradled the side of your face. “The thought that anything might happen to either of you... is unbearable.”
He pressed his forehead against yours, his voice hoarse, “What if… you continue to bleed and it leads to seizures? What if— you and the baby won’t make it? These are so unbearable for me.”
His words went straight into you, and for a moment, your tears receded as they sank in.
"I can’t give you my past." His voice tinged with melancholy, the expression on his face was torn. "But I promise you, at least in this lifetime..."
He gazed at you with the unwavering look you had fallen in love with, the same gaze you once admired from afar, long ago.
And then, his next declaration took your breath away and made your heart soar like never before. A wave of love surged within you, almost overwhelming you—
"Right this moment and my future—it's for you. For both of you, always."
From that moment on, you knew you would trust him completely. From that moment on, you finally let go of your doubts, knowing that you had nothing to fear with him by your side.
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Zayne was by your side whenever he was able to.
You were on bedrest at the hospital ever since, but he always stayed the night here to accompany you, barely going back to home for a change of clothes.
"You’re really making a snowman..." he remarked, observing your fingers and the crochet hooks he’d brought from home so you could keep yourself entertained. "I think you need to add a bit more fluff there..."
Your face brightened with a grin as you cut the yarn. "Don’t worry, I’ll make it extra round."
The weeks in the hospital dragged on, but they also gave you more time to work on your amigurumi. When you finished putting the final touches on it, you proudly presented it to Zayne—the snowman with a blue shawl and black hat, two little round eyes, and a beaming line of smile. "Ta-da! Look, it’s even cuter than the ones you made!"
A happy you was always the sight he loved to see above all. "Yeah..."
"Do you think she'll love it?" you suddenly asked, poking the snowman doll you just made, feeling warm at the thought that your cherished baby will soon play with it too.
You looked so endearing that Zayne felt an overwhelming urge to pull you closer. “She will,” he chuckled, giving you a reassuring pat on the head. “Didn’t you say before she will?”
And soon, you reached the thirtieth-week mark. The time had come to finally deliver your baby.
. . .
"I can't feel anything..." Your voice came out as a soft whine while you lay on the operating table, your lower body numb and obscured by the surgical curtain shielding you from view.
Zayne, standing beside you in a mask and headcap, grasped your hand, his fingers intertwined with yours. "If you could feel it, you’d be screaming."
The C-section was the only way to ensure both you and your daughter would survive. It felt surreal to know they were basically cutting you open, yet you were unable to feel anything.
"Will... she come out healthy?" you asked your husband hesitantly, worried about your soon-to-be born baby. "I'm worried..."
Zayne glanced at you and gave your hand a light squeeze. "Don’t worry too much. You should be more concerned about yourself. Think of all the food you want to have when you get home, and I’ll get it for you."
You shot him a glare. "You make me sound like a foodie."
"You are a foodie."
Despite the ongoing surgery, Zayne’s lighthearted jabs were his way of easing your anxiety. Even though they irked you, you appreciated his attempts to lift your spirits.
And soon—
You heard a feeble cry, though quickly drowned out by the cheers of the surgical team beyond the curtain. You gasped and turned to Zayne, who was fixated on the tiny baby in Dr. Munson's hands.
He didn't even blink. It was almost as if he was spellbound by the sight. Nothing mattered because his daughter was here. Really here.
"Zayne…" your voice then broke the spell. He turned to you, who weakly smiled at him with tears in your eyes.
For the first time in your life, you saw tears of happiness glistening in his eyes as he stared at you— the woman who had just given him a daughter to love and dote on.
He immediately leaned in to press a kiss on your forehead. Your heart felt so full, even though he wasn’t able to fully express it in words. In that moment, you could feel his profound love for you and the new life you would embark on together.
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"She is so small..."
You pressed yourself as close as you could to the see-through glass of the neonatal unit, straining to get a glimpse of your baby daughter. Though you weren't well enough to walk three days after the surgery, you insisted on Zayne wheeling you over in a wheelchair just so you could have a peek.
"She’ll grow big soon," Zayne said, placing a comforting hand on your shoulder when he noticed your sadness. "She’ll stay there for a few more weeks, and then we can bring her home."
However, your expression twisted into a worried frown as you watched the gentle rise and fall of your baby’s tiny chest inside the incubator. Even when he had reassured you that it was by all means just an unfortunate condition, you couldn't help feeling that it was your fault somehow that she ended up there.
She had his tufts of black hair, but you weren’t able to get close enough to remember her face clearly. The fact that you hadn’t held her in your arms yet made your heart ache.
"Mommy is sorry that she can't carry you to full-term..." you croaked out, lips wobbling, a hand tracing the glass separating you from your new baby, and Zayne inhaled sharply at the sight.
It hadn’t been easy, but you had made it through. Both of you had. And to him, that was more than enough. So, you needed to hear it too.
He crouched down in front of you, catching your attention instantly. You tilted your head as his hands rested gently on your shoulders.
“Thank you for delivering our daughter safely,” he said with the softest of smiles, ever so genuine just as you were in all times of the two of you together.
Your eyes widened a bit at his sudden gratitude, and when he took both of your hands together in his, gazed at you with such earnestness in his clear ash-grey eyes, and traced his thumbs over your knuckles, your heart skipped a beat.
“And most of all, thank you... for being safe too.”
Those words brought immense warmth to you, and the prettiest of smile lit up your face then at the way he looked at you as if you were his most prized treasure. Just like that, once again, he cast all your fears and doubts aside.
And deep down, you knew that with him by your side, everything was going to be alright.
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thedevotionaltour · 1 year ago
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this is literally the year of the matt toy.
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cascadianights · 1 year ago
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As someone who has never known if I would/could have a child, it is so incredibly significant to me how much love the puppies I've raised will spread in the world
I grew up with dogs, one a year older than me and one a decade younger - more since. I always had a dozen animals around me, but I am also chronically ill and disabled. So I waited over a decade into my adult life to get a dog.
I knew I needed a service dog, and that I'd have to put my years of work with animals into it because I'd never afford one (or the crystal clear diagnoses to get granted one). I didn't even begin to consider it until after I'd spent months taking care of a roommate's wolf-dog, and even then...
I wasn't considering puppies. He was, to replace the dog he'd lost, but I hadn't even batted an eye at any of the many he'd shown me. Then I saw Alice - one of over half a dozen mutts produced from a husky breeder mating with a family Pitt. Something clicked. Suddenly I was going, just to see, and was pulling money out of the bank on the way. When I got there, it was past dark and I sat in a dimly lit hut outside while a brindle puppy climbed into my lap and refused to leave.
There were others, with one blue and one brown eye each, with husky golden coats that could've passed for purebred. Who were friendlier, more enthusiastic. But she planted herself in my lap, and there she stayed the hours drive home.
She was so easy to work with. Quick to learn, eager to please and devastated to disappoint. She was always in tune with my body & mind, more than I'm able to be, and even heavily pregnant would tell me just when to turn around before the pain in my ankle began, or when I needed to sit before the world spun in front of me. Nevermind the panic attacks, the leading me out of stores while I'm dissociating out of my mind. The way she checks in as soon as the intrusive thoughts - "you can't see them, so something horrible must've happened" - take over. The way she sleeps touching me (or my partner) at nearly all times.
But for all the ways she helped me, helped us, it's been even more amazing to watch her move through the world. Greeting people at parties with a contained enthusiasm, trotting up to strangers without fear the second she hears the go-ahead. People see her and beam, they pet her and smile as she shoves her toy back into their hand in offering. Little children clap and point, the youngest babies reach out and laugh in delight as she gently licks their face or outstretched palm. My sister's toddler follows obediently after her with a hand at her waist, resting on Alice's back. Workers smile through weary masks and babies beam and adults giggle and croon.
She brings the best to everyone. She brings joy and smiles and laughter, calm and peace and safety. She's everything I hoped for in a dog and more, and she's one of my companions and partners through this terrifying world.
And she had babies. She had puppies to nurse and raise and care for, and she did so every minute diligently and gently and lovingly. And now they're spread throughout the world, through friends and family and friends that are like family, to bring the world more of the joy and peace and calm that she brings. I see pictures and videos and hear stories from friends and friends of friends, and get to run into the very puppies born into my hand barely a few pounds on this earth now spreading so much love and joy and hope. Every puppy went to a loving home I trust, and every one of them is spreading that same love and hope and joy through the world and that is! Incredible!!!
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vividxpages · 5 months ago
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*✧・゚: *✧・゚ "in the dead of night"・゚✧*: ・゚✧*
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pairing: Jacaerys Velaryon x fem!Reader
words: 7000
summary: when Jace is attending a late council meeting, two hired assassins take their chance to sneak into your chambers and hold you captive. Taken to the dragon caves below and meant to be slain by your own betrothed’s dragon, you have to trust the bond between Vermax and you is strong enough to escape your captor’s murderous plans.
warnings: soft!reader, fluffy start but HEAVY angst (reader being held captive by two assassins similar to Blood and Cheese), physical violence (slapping, hair pulling), verbal abuse, threats of rape and violence, Vermax being Vermax and also protective of reader, hurt/comfort, shock and crying, Jacaerys being a caring betrothed, Rhaenyra being the best mother in law, aftermath of trauma, healing, hopeful ending
a/n: please mind the warnings for this story, it’s my angstiest so far! Big thanks to @princessvelaryon and @princesschimchim1325 for being awesome and inspiring me to write this!
˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚
You smiled to yourself as you held two small wooden figures in your hands, a princess and a prince, their hands linked together and small attires made of cotton and wool. When you were younger, you remembered playing with them for hours, creating little scenarios of the prince who might sweep you off your feet someday.
Now, many years later, you had found the love of your life in Prince Jacaerys.
Ever since your own parents had died too young, Jace’s family had welcomed you as if you were one of them by blood, making you a home at Dragonstone and accepting you with open arms as theirs. Perhaps, a huge part of it was because Rhaenyra’s oldest son had been in love with you ever since he had first laid eyes on you, but there was more to it. His mother adored you and you got alone with his siblings and cousins and brought a joy into their house that was much needed in those dark times of war.
This afternoon, you were sitting on the soft fur carpet in one of the big living rooms of the castle, Rhaenyra’s twins peacefully playing with their wooden toys all around you. Earlier, Baela and Rhaena had joined you for a chat and the newest gossip, but you didn’t mind being alone with the kids as well, your own inner child always coming down around their soft souls.
You let out a playful gasp as little Viserys assembled a row of knights on their horses along the imaginary street you had built together. “Are your noble knights going to a tournament, Vis?”
The boy nodded timidly at you, letting one of the horses gallop forward and making you laugh.
Your betrothed Jacaerys leaned against the doorframe and smiled softly as he watched you. Little Aegon had snuggled close to you and you helped Viserys move the toy carriage around the carpet.
You looked up as he pushed himself off the frame, walking towards you with pure adoration in his eyes. “Oh hello. I didn’t hear you enter.” You said, letting your hand be lifted by him so he could press a soft kiss against your knuckles.
Moving to stand and placing Aegon on the ground, he laid a hand on your shoulder, shaking his head. “I didn’t want to interrupt your play. What adventures is my princess going on today? Have my brothers been behaving?”
“They are the sweetest.” You told him in all honesty, your heart melting at the two little blond boys in front of you. Whenever you spent time with Jace’s smaller siblings, you could not help but notice how your heart expanded and spoke to a deep part in you that wished for children of your own someday. “We were playing a carriage ride to a tournament, I believe, but then a dragon escaped and now we have to look for him.”
Jace squatted down for a moment and handed Aegon a rattle shaped like the bell of a sept, which he immediately took with a toothless grin and tried out. You watched your betrothed with a soft heart and thought what a wonderful father he’d make…
“I dream of the day this will be our life someday.” He confessed to you, the corner of his plump lips lifting sadly. “When there is peace in the realm and we have time to take care of our future children together.”
“I wish for nothing else.” You replied softly, your heart blooming with love for him.
For a moment, Jacaerys looked as if he wanted to sit down and join you and his little brothers, but as you knew your hard-working betrothed all too well, he sighed and stood up again, careful not to step on the big skirts draped around you like a blooming flower.
“There will be a late council meeting this evening.” Jacaerys announced to you, his displeased expression betraying him. “Everyone of the council and the dragon keepers will sit together to discuss. I wouldn’t ask you to join us, it will be very boring and entirely unnecessary.”
You chuckled, knowing all too well how different Jace would do many things if his say in the matters of his mother would be of more weight. But at the same time, you were glad, Rhaenyra kept him sheltered and protected with you for now, at Dragonstone where it was the safest place for the future king and his queen.
“Will you come to bed later?” You asked shyly, although it was not uncommon for the prince and you to share a bed before your marriage had even been consummated.
A small and narrow passage connected your room to Jacaerys’ and you had often made use of it, whether you wanted someone to talk to before heading to bed or were in need of his warm embrace before you eventually drifted off into an innocent sleep together. When he was gone or bound to duties, you usually made yourself comfortable in his bed, but perhaps you’d return to your own tonight if the meeting was going to take a while before he’d be released.
Jacaerys smiled softly at you and nodded before he raised your hand towards his lips. “I will. Don’t stay up too late, I’ll be with you as soon as I can, I promise.”
You hummed pleased and let him kiss your knuckles. “I hope it won’t be too long. And don’t take their words to heart too much, Jace. You’re the prince and they’re lucky to have you.”
“It is me who is lucky to have you, my beloved.” He said and watched in delight as you blushed at his appreciation. “My safe haven, my light.”
Jacaerys leaned down, softly cupping your cheek before he gently kissed your lips, your back arching a little to reach him better. Your lips brushed tenderly against one another and you sighed in bliss at his open affections for you.
You smiled at him when you separated, squeezing his hand in yours. “I love you. I’ll see you later.”
“I love you.I’ll do my best to hurry.” He promised, hugging his little toddler brothers as well and softly stroking their hair before he departed. You sighed to yourself, eager to have the hours pass and let the two of you be reunited again as little Aegon presented you a wood dragon, silently asking you to rejoin their play..
“Alright, where were we, my princes?”
˚ ༘ ೀ⋆。˚
Being alone in your private chambers had become a rarity since you had been promised to Jacaerys.
You listened to the quietness of the room, the fire cackling in the pit as you sat on your bed and combed out your hair. You had taken a bath after bringing the princes to their nurseries and changed into something comfortable for the night.
The small evidence of Jace’s frequent visits to your room were visible all over the place. A cloak of his was thrown over one of your chairs by the fire and one of his books laid open by your desk. Even his smell still faintly clung to your pillows, a little gift from the last time he had fallen asleep here, not bothering to retreat back to his own chamber under your soft and lingering touches to his hair.
You could not even remember the last time the connecting door between your rooms had been closed.
You let out a small sigh as you sunk into bed, watching the dark outside of your window for a while. The council meeting must’ve been going on for a while now and you tried to read a few pages to keep you awake, not wanting to miss the moment Jace would come to you.
The time went by and your eyelids kept dropping.
But after a while, the door to your chamber opened and a wide smile split your face as you sat up in your bed, ready to welcome Jace back. Your hair fell over your shoulders, the blanket slipping down your body a little, but just a second later, everything in you froze to a stop.
Two men entered your room, their clothes dirty and faces dark as they took you in. These weren’t your guards and as one of them unsheathed a blade from his belt, you opened your mouth to scream.
They were on you in a heartbeat.
One of them drew the blankets off the bed while the other grabbed your hair, dragging you from the mattress and onto the floor, every sound in your throat seizing up and choked off by their sudden display of violence.
You were not a fighter, never had been. You stood no chance as they manhandled you in their middle, the taller one quickly looking over his shoulder as you struggled to no use against their tight grip.
“Look at that.” You heard close to your ear, the deep raspy voice sending shivers down your spine. “The bastard prince’s little bird, right between us. What would your man say now if he could see you like this, huh?”
You whimpered when your head was tugged back, the other gripping your wrists and making quick work of a tight rope around them, scratching over your soft skin and successfully binding you.
“Who are you?” You demanded to know, your voice barely louder than a whisper. You were shaking from head to toe, your body and mind gone into overdrive when they had first laid hands on you.
They shared a grin with each other. “Does it matter? All you have to know is we’re not your fucking maids. And that you will die tonight, princess. Now be a good girl and shut the fuck up.”
You tried to press your heels into the floor, to keep them from stirring you towards the door, but after a moment the tall one simply picked you up and carried you towards the door. Your nails scratched over the man’s back, but it was like he didn’t even feel it, his grip around your legs too tight for you to struggle and free yourself.
“Behave.”
You were set on your feet again, crowded by them against the door. You swallowed hard against the lump in your throat, your eyes flickering between the two of them. “Whoever paid you, their reward is not nearly enough for the misery my family will bring down on you when they find you. I am a princess of Dragonstone and you have no right to-“
They pushed you out of the door, not bothering to listen.
A horrified gasp escaped your lips as you stepped outside your chamber and nearly stumbled over the dead bodies of your two guards, bleeding out and cold on the floor. The sound echoed through the hall and before you knew what was happening, your head was pulled back by your hair and a hard hand slapped you across the face.
Pain exploded in your mind, blinding you for a moment before the sting ebbed away and was replaced with a dull throb in your cheek.
You held the palm of your trembling hand to your throbbing cheek, breathing hard as you recovered from the blow. “You will die for this.” You said oddly calm and collected. It had to be the shock, you could not think clearly, but you knew one thing for sure: “The prince will cut your hands off for laying hand on me.”
The tall one grinned as if it was an empty threat. “We will be long gone once your prince finds you, stupid cunt. And in what state that will be, I still have to decide.” His disgusting hungry gaze crept over your body, barely hidden underneath your thin sleeping gown. You wanted to throw up.
“You will lead us to the place where the dragons are.” The shorter one said. “We know the keepers are all at the meeting and you know ways where no guards keep patrol. And if you dare to scream or run to wake anyone, I’ll cut out your tongue and heart and throw it in front of the bastard prince’s feet.”
You swallowed down bitter tears, your head screaming at you to do something, anything. But your hands were painfully tied and you did not find your voice as you slowly began to walk with them through the castle.
In the past, you have had nightmares like this, terrible visions of you being powerless as hands held you down in the dark, doing horrible things to you. You sometimes had woken up screaming, but Jacaerys had been there for you every time, holding you until the worst of it was over and you slowly were able to calm down in his safe and warm embrace. Now, there was no one, all people living and working at Dragonstone either asleep or summoned by Rhaenyra and Jacaerys for the council meeting. By the time someone had discovered the corpses of your guards in front of your chambers, you’d likely be dead or taken to who knew where.
You walked through your home, shivering against the cool air with only the thin nightdress you wore on you, the dangerous presence of your captors behind your back. You knew Jacaerys would blame himself for leaving you alone and suddenly, a sorrow so consuming filled your chest, you choked on a quiet whimper. You had not even said goodbye…
“Shut the fuck up.” They hissed at you and one of them slung his arm around your waist, your fingers digging into his flesh in protest as cool metal suddenly rested against your ribcage. A dagger. “Be fucking quiet and keep walking.”
Soon, the air began to smell of salt and sea and you heard the distant crashing of the waves against the island. The entrance to the dragon caves came into sight and you turned around to face them.
“Now tell us, girl, where is your precious dragon?”
Your heart sank into the pit of your stomach, but before you could open your mouth for a reply, the other one of them shook his head. “No. Don’t be stupid. The beast will kill us right away if it sees their rider in our clutches. But…the bastard’s dragon. It’s a foul ill-tempered beast, isn’t it? Where is it?”
Vermax.
A protective wave washed through you and for a moment, you regained the little confidence you had before the man had laid his hand on you. “What do you want with the dragon? You are in no state to have a chance at killing him.”
They shared a look, both grinning viciously. One of them stepped up to you and touched your chin with his dirty hand, right where a fresh bruise from his violence bloomed. You tried to flinch away, but he held you close.
“We don’t mean to kill it, flower.” He told you, bloodthirst flickering over his features and making you sick. His knuckles brushed over the cut on your lip and you wanted to gag from disgust. “We’re going to watch as it kills you.”
Your mind was swimming as you led them through the darkness, watching their big shadows looming over your small own. The taller one still held his dagger against your waist and you knew he’d make use of it if he noticed you playing any games. There were wild beasts slumbering in the depths of these caves, but would they be faster at attacking your captors than the knife against your skin?
The hope in your chest thinned the further away you walked with them from where you knew your own dragon slept, but one last shimmer of it remained in you. You knew Vermax and he knew you just as Jacaerys did. You had to hold on to that.
“It’s here.” You announced quietly, your whisper echoing across the cave near the ocean. It was quiet here and you had to squint your eyes to make out the big nest at the end of the cave where a green-scaled dragon slept fitfully.
“Call it.” The smaller one muttered, his eyes fixed on the beast. You winced as the tip of the dagger pressed into your skin, a warning. “We will stand behind you and when it has come out, you will command it to kill you, you hear me? No tricks or I’ll gladly be the one to end your suffering, right after my friend here has had his fun with you, princess.”
You took a deep breath as they retreated into a safe distance.
„Naejot Māzīs, Vermax.“ You commanded shakingly and the sound of your familiar voice, the big pile of green and red in the corner of the cage moved, uncurling himself from his light slumber.
Jacaerys’ dragon blinked at you sleepily, a shudder going through his beautiful scales as he tilted his head to the side questioningly. When he spotted the two men in your company, he tensed, stepping forward and showing himself in his full height.
“Lykirī…“ You lifted your hands, trying to catch Vermax’ eyes again so he’d look at you instead of them.
With a low growl in his throat, he settled, stepping closer to you until his snout almost touched your outstretched hand.
“Say it, girl!” You heard the commanding voice behind you, in a safe distance of the beast that slowly blinked at you, considering. “We’re not going to wait much longer!”
You took a deep breath and looked Vermax in the snake-like eyes.
He met you with a calm stare, tilting his head to the side again, a deep rumble in his chest.
You had to trust in him now. You had to trust in the love Jacaerys and you were sharing and the bond between you and the dragons.
Out of the sudden, a heavy thrown stone hit you in the back and you gasped in pain, stumbling forward and almost slipping in a dirty puddle.
“DO IT!”
Trust in Vermax, just as you trust in your Jace.
“Dracarys.” You whispered finally and closed your eyes.
Vermax surged forward with a furious roar, one sharp claw in the ground, his wing shielding you from the scenery. Nearly pushing you out of the way, he advanced on the men who had threatened you with a snarl and warmth filled the large cave, fire burning low in his green-scaled stomach.
A horrible realization flickered over their faces as the green beast drew closer, their backs hitting the wall behind them as they looked at you one last time. “You fucking cunt-“
Vermax wiped out their miserable existence with one single breath of fire. Heat tore through the cave and you stumbled backwards as the dragon fire burned them and the scent of roasted human flesh reached your nose.
You squeezed your eyes shut and buried your face in your hands as you listened to their screams. Their agony bounced off the stone walls and heat crept down your spine, but Vermax kept you close, the leathery feel of his wing a small comfort against your skin.
Suddenly, silence rang in your ears.
You dared to peek up over the protective curl of Vermax’ wings.
Where your captors had stood, only ashes and bones remained.
Vermax let out a self-satisfied growl, clearly pleased with what he had unleashed on the terrors. He bent down, blinking at you with his sharp eyes as if to make sure you were alright. Tears, both from the shock and gratitude, filled your eyes and you leaned your forehead against his snout, trying to take deep breaths to steady yourself.
You shrunk back as you heard footsteps in the caves, hurried steps running over gravel and through the water puddles, a flame throwing a long shadow over the walls. You felt Vermax tense, his wing drawing itself tighter around you. Any other threat advancing, he’d burn to the ground.
In the next moment, Jacaerys stormed into the chamber, his sword drawn as his other hand held a lit torch. His chest was heaving, sweat gathering at his hairline as he quickly took in the state of the room. He looked like he had run the length of the castle and you knew it likely had been the case.
Vermax snarled without threat, greeting his rider and lifting his wing to present you to your love.
Your eyes met and you let out a shuddering breath.
The sight of you was a thousand daggers to his heart.
Your face was smeared with soot and the blood from your split lip coated your chin, your hair unruly and disheveled from the way they had grabbed and dragged you along. Your silk dress was dirty and you shivered against the cold of the cave as you slung your bruised arms around yourself.
Behind you, Vermax hovered like a protective shadow and waited, willing to serve with Jacaerys now here with you.
As he took a step towards you, his boot made contact with the skulls of the assassins. Two of them, he realized and the rage surging through his veins was all-consuming. He looked down at their bones and wished to go back in time to kill them himself, over and over again until not even these mortal remains stayed behind.
But his own bloodlust vanished as he raced towards you, your own legs unsteady and finally giving out under you just as he reached you.
He fell to the ground with you in his arms, holding you tightly as you clawed your hand in his clothes, his heart breaking for you right underneath your tight grip. It was like any last strength in you had left, leaving you a broken and sobbing mess in his embrace.
“You’re safe, you’re safe…” Jace murmured into your ear, softly swaying you back and forth as you wept, the adrenaline and shock from the situation finally crashing down on you with full force. “Nothing is going to happen to you, I’m here…”
The Queen and the dragon keepers found the prince and his princess just like this.
Jacaerys was kneeling on the ground, the princess dissolved in tears in his arms and the ill-tempered beast that had saved his love curled around them, chortling comfortingly as the prince stroked her hair and whispered sweet nothings in her ear.
˚ ༘ ೀ⋆。˚
You had been escorted back to the castle, but you couldn’t say you remembered much from the journey. Your mind had gone into an odd state of survival, the girl from before the attack having retreated into a far corner of your mind.
The guards, now dead because of you, had been carried away in front of your door and you had stopped in the middle of the hallway, not able to go another step as you stared at the spot where maids were now scrubbing the blood from the floor.
“Come on, my dear.” Rhaenyra had gently told you and you tore your eyes away from the scene as your Queen and Jacaerys led you into his chambers instead. The warmth and unique scent of Jace’s quarters – the smell of old parchment and books, mingled with the wax of the candles and the smell of his sheets – enveloped you and you drew the cloak Jace had draped over your shivering form tightly around you.
Now, a little later, you were seated at Jace’s work table and blankly stared at your scraped hands in your lap.
Jacaerys had instantly expressed his dislike for an interrogation at this hour of the night, but you had shaken your head, willing to recount the situation to Rhaenyra as if words could wash away the poison they had brought onto you. Your skin felt coated with it and you feared the stain might never go away again.
Yet, you had told her and Jace what happened, slowly and quietly, and when you were done, Rhaenyra was holding your hand and Jacaerys looked as if he wanted to break something.
“My brave girl.” Rhaenyra murmured and softly cupped your cheek as she looked at the bruises on your face and neck. “You’ve fought enough for tonight, darling. I’ll call the maids and healers and-“
“No.” You cut her off, shivering at the prospect of unfamiliar hands on you, seeing the evidence of what had happened on your naked skin. You swallowed hard, your eyes filling with unshed tears again. “No one else. It’s- it’s alright, I can do it myself, I really can-“
Rhaenyra smiled sadly at you. “You are hurt, my dear.”
“I’m not broken.” You insisted, although you felt like it. You were shattered pieces on the ground.
“And no one says so, dear.”
Jacaerys, sensing you were on the verge of breaking down, knelt down next to your chair and caught your gaze with his. “I can help, if you want.” He offered quietly.
You looked back at him, conflicted. If Jace stayed, there’d come the point where he’d see the damage you had taken and you did not know what troubled you more; him seeing you like this or seeing him as his heart shattered for you.
“Jace.” Rhaenyra looked at him. “Perhaps a woman’s presence at this time is better suited for her. I’ll fetch you later, I promise, but she needs a moment for herself now, alright?”
He was tense, your beloved prince, but after a moment he nodded with a set jaw before he stood and looked at you one more time. “I’ll wait outside.”
You didn’t want to meet his sad expression, so you kept your gaze down as mother and son went to the door, talking in quick and hushed voices before Jace stepped outside and Rhaenyra returned to you.
She leaned down and brushed a little bit of soot from your cheeks, careful not to touch your split lip. “Vermax surely knows how to rain down fire on our enemies, hm?”
A weak smile tugged at the corner of your lips. “He saved me. He knew exactly what was going on the moment I entered and he was intelligent enough to play along until the right moment had come.”
Rhaenyra hummed, offering you a hand to stand up. “And still, they only call my son’s dragon ill-tempered. How does a bath sound? I’m sure you’d like to step into more comfortable clothes, wouldn’t you?”
You nodded, longing for a simple cotton shirt, preferably one of Jace’s that smelled like home and warmth and safety.
Your future mother-in-law went to the big bath next to Jace’s bedroom with you, a steaming bath already having been drawn for you.
When you saw her drawing a stool close to the tub, your eyes widened and you were quick to interject: “I-I can do it myself, Your Grace, there is no need for you to-“
“Please let me help you just as I would help any other child of mine.” She interrupted you kindly and soon after, you gratefully sunk into the bath, your sore muscles relaxing in its warmth.
Rhaenyra helped you tilt your head back and you closed your eyes as warm water flowed over your hair and down your neck, tears of your own silently running down your damp cheeks. Your throat bobbed painfully as you let her work, the Queen’s gentle hands a mother’s comfort as they helped to get rid of the dirt from the caves and a root clinging to your skin.
“I have sent Jace to fetch an ointment for your bruises and cuts.” She told you quietly and you nodded silently, cupping some of your water to rinse off your face, careful not to touch your throbbing lip. “I want you to tell me if I should send him away for the night. You can be honest with me, dear.”
You sniffled, gladly accepting the towel she lent you after helping you out of the bathtub. After a moment, you rasped: “It is not him I am scared of. It’s just…I know it pains him to see me hurt.”
“He hurts because he hasn’t been there for you, my dear.” Rhaenyra explained softly and you sighed to yourself as you slipped into a silken robe, the fabric easy on the big bruise on your back and arms. Underneath, you already wore one of Jace’s long shirts, the fabric more of a dress on you. “If it is one thing I have learned, as someone who loves and is lucky enough to be loved, it’s that healing means accepting the help of others. No one will fault you if you want to be for yourself tonight, but I know Jace will do anything he can to help you recover from this, no matter what that might look like.”
You did not want to be alone.
You feared it, laying down in bed once again when the door could open at any moment and reveal the terrors, although Jacaerys had doubled the amount of guards outside his door, simply so you’d feel safe.
You wanted to feel sheltered and able to move past this with the one you loved more than anything else, the one who had first thought about when your life had been in grave danger.
You needed Jacaerys.
“Jace may come in again.” You said quietly, suppressing the urge to groan with every step. You had not seen it yet, but the pain the stone thrown to your back caused felt like a flare and you were sure the spot was already turning a deep shade of purple.
Rhaenyra led you towards Jace’s bed, seemingly pleased with your decision. “I’ll make my leave then. Sleep in tomorrow, the both of you. You need all the rest you can get.”
“Thank you, Your Grace.” You squeezed her hand in yours, bowing your head in gratitude. “And thank you for helping me.”
She smiled at you one last time, although there was a strain to it, her worry over a sneak attack like this consuming her mind. Tomorrow they’d speak about this in council, but tonight she’d let her son do the rest, his wide eyes meeting hers when she opened the door and let him in.
You turned around to look at him, your damp hair falling over your shoulder and his clothes, a princess despite the cuts and bruises on your skin. Jacaerys slowly walked to you and your heart stung when you noticed his blood-shot eyes and how pale he still was. He was tense all over, yet he softened as he came to a stop in front of you.
“Where does it hurt?” He asked quietly, looking for your honesty and not a false promise towards him.
You let out a shaky breath and leaned into him.
For a moment, you simply stood in front of each other, forehead against forehead and breathing each other in. Hot tears welled up in your shut eyes, his closeness rescuing and suffocating you at once. Jace’s nose touched yours and his soft curls tickled your cheeks and for a second, you thought that everything might be alright again when the morning came.
“My back. My cheek and wrists…” You whispered, your breath tickling his lips. “I know I’ve bathed and changed and I’m safe in your rooms, but…it feels like they’ve put me apart and I’ve been assembled back together wrongly.”
He shook his head, swallowing against his own lump in his throat. “You could never be wrong, my love.”
Your bottom lip wobbled dangerously, only doubling the pain in the cut grazing it. “I’ve been so scared, Jace. When they entered my room- Anything could’ve happened, they could’ve done anything to me-“
You gasped both in relief and sorrow as his arms pulled you against him, the hug both grounding and warm, something you thought you’d lost forever mere hours ago. You were too exhausted to cry once more, but the horror over what else could’ve been done to you shook you to your very core.
“I’m never going to let something like this happen again.” Jace promised you darkly as he tightened his arms around you, soothingly brushing his hand through your hair as you rested the unwounded side of your face against his heart. “You will never have to be afraid again, I promise. I should’ve been there, I should’ve stopped them-“
“You didn’t know they were here.” You reminded him, but you could feel the fury radiating off his body, an all-consuming rage deeply rooted in him. “No one did. No one is to blame except for the ones who sent them, Jace.”
“And they will pay.” You could practically feel the daggers he was glaring at the wall behind you. But just after a moment, you felt his anger deflate as he softly kissed the top of your head and gently lifted your chin so he could look at you. “You’ve been fighting all alone tonight, but I am here now and I want to be of use, beloved. Will you let me help?”
“I don’t want to upset you.” You almost bit your lip before you remembered the pain.
His gaze softened endlessly and he tucked a damp strand of your hair behind your ear. There were lots of tangled emotions inside of him still, but he saw you, this sweet delicate girl he had fallen for ever since the beginning and knew he had to take care of you now. “You could never upset me, my beautiful strong princess.”
The words were mending on your shaken soul and you closed your eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath before you let him to his work.
“The maester said the salve might be a little cool on the skin.” Jace murmured and you nodded in understanding. “And he gave me ice, scratched from the old side of the island’s cliffs, for your cheek.”
You took the dripping bundle from his hand, sighing as the cold cloth touched your cheek, the swelling subtle so far yet inevitable to strengthen throughout the night. But every bruise and cut on your body was better than not living to see the sun rise in the morning. “I could apply the salve on my own?”
Jace shook his head. “Let me do this for you.”
He walked with you to his bed, helping you sit down as he knelt before you, devotion shimmering in his eyes. You realized that he needed this just as much as you did, to prove himself he was able to take care of you now, even if he had not been there for you then.
He cupped your healthy cheek as you covered the other one with your ice. “Should we start with your back?”
Jace helped you lift the fabric, only so much so he could see where the stone had struck you, a dull bruise blossoming right next to your spine. It was nothing he had not yet seen so far, still you felt self-conscious under his attentive eyes.
You held very still as Jacaerys began to carefully apply the ointment to the bruise, his finger drawing soft and soothing circles over the blue spot. His other hand touched your waist, just barely underneath the fabric of his shirt on you and you closed your eyes as the cooling sensation drew a little pain from you and let it vanish.
“Good?”
“Feels good…” You murmured and tried to crawl into the feeling, the tiny relief washing away a little of the darkness from before. With a small kiss to your nape, he let the shirt fall and cover you again.
Next came your sore wrists. He lifted both of them, seeing the red marks where the tight rope had cut into your skin and swallowing hard. He wanted to unleash Vermax on the dusty bones of your captors again until their remains were annihilated from this earth. Jace softly kissed both of them before he dipped his fingers into the small jar again and repeated his careful motions.
You made a small sound in your throat and he stopped instantly.
“Too hard?”
You shook your head. “My lip…”
He sat down beside you, the mattress dipping underneath his weight and bringing you closer to him. The cut wasn’t pretty, but no cut was and you did not shy away from him as he took in the damage, one of his hands still rubbing circles into your wrist.
You held your breath as his coated thumb touched your bottom lip, his touch light as a feather as the cooling salve instantly mended the throbbing. Your hand reached up to hold his wrist, not ready yet to let him go when his touch felt infinitely good for your aching body. There was nothing sexual about the way you breathed against the pad of his thumb, relishing his care and simply letting it wash over you, and for a while you were simply content like this, Jacaerys remaining close to you as you breathed through the slowly ebbing pain.
“Do you want me to braid your hair for the night?” He asked quietly like he had so many times before.
Your wonderful beloved Jace. You nodded gratefully as he shuffled once more on the bed and sat behind you. Kissing the back of your head and brushing your hair over your shoulders for you, he got to work.
Your body was lulled into relaxation as his fingers combed through your hair, loosely braiding it so you wouldn’t have to wake up with tangles and knots in the morning. His warmth was a comfort against your back and if the vicious bruise hadn’t been there, you would’ve leaned back against him, ready to melt into his tenderness.
“Vermax saw right through them.” You spoke up after a while, your eyelids drooping from time to time from exhaustion as Jace finished up his braid for you. “He didn’t let them see at first, but there was a moment where I knew he was going to protect me, that he knew what was happening.”
“He loves you as if you were his own rider.” Jace mumbled, affection for you and his dragon in his voice. “I am glad he had been there for you when I wasn’t.”
“I want the finest sheep the shepherds can organize for tomorrow.” You looked over your shoulder with determination and Jacaerys frowned at you, a question in his eyes. You welcomed the small sting your lip caused you when its corner lifted up into a weak smile: “I want Vermax to be rewarded for defending his rider’s princess so honorably.”
“And I’d be honored to be the one to select it for you, my princess.” Jace’s face darkened, fury swirling in his brown orbs. “I still wish they would’ve suffered more. They deserved much more than a quick death of fire.”
His revengeful words were nothing against the soft touch with which he doted on you and when he was done and brushed his fingers once more over your hair, your body wanted to sink into his pillows and melt into them.
Jace laid down with you, carefully adjusting his position beside you so he wouldn’t accidently bump into your sore body. You exhaled deeply when your head touched his pillow, smelling so comfortingly of him. You could not bear to lie on your back, so you snuggled into Jace’s bed on your stomach, hugging his pillow and turning your head so you could look at your love.
He was resting on his side, his brown eyes searching for any discomfort you might have. Your eyes flickered over his shoulder, towards the door of his chambers.
“You are safe now, I promise.” Jace whispered and leaned forward, pressing a small kiss to your nose. “There are five guards outside and my sword leans against the bed. I’m here. Nothing bad will ever befall you again, my love, I swear it with my life.”
You gave him a tiny nod and tried to relax, although it was hard to keep the shadows lingering in the corners of the room at bay. You wiggled one of your hands out from under the pillow and found his, tugging him closer until his lean body warmed your side, one of his hands resting securely on your lower back.
“Tomorrow, I want to take a walk to the cliffs.” You whispered, longing for the fresh air and its cleansing effect.
Jacaerys smiled. “Then it will be arranged. Does my princess wish for any company?”
You nodded timidly, his playful undertone distracting you from the dull throb underneath the ointments. “And I want to have a picnic if the sun is out, with all my favorite things.”
“I’ll tell the kitchens then, first thing in the morning. They’ll be happy to please their future queen.”
“And when I’m healed, I want you to kiss me…” Your eyes drooped, the exhaustion from the night overpowering the little anxiety that remained in you.
“Your wish is my command...” Jacaerys mumbled back, his eyes on you as you slowly drifted off into a well-deserved sleep. He had not been entirely honest with you, there were many things he wanted to do.
He watched you sleep beside him, the most innocent sweet being he knew, covered with his warm clothes and bruises on your skin. Jace still held your hand and was not willing to let it go for the rest of the night.
At the soonest time, he’d convene a council meeting and strengthen the security around Dragonstone. He already had caught word of Daemon wreaking havoc on the guard unions patrolling around the castle for not being more attentive, for the princess was one of his favorite people in this family and Jace knew he’d have an ally for his cause.
He’d take his revenge for you.
But for now, he knew you needed him more than ever, and tomorrow he’d do his best to make you happy again. 
He could almost see it in the dark of the room, your eyes closed blissfully against the sunbeams, your hair dancing with the wind as you walked hand in hand as you had done so many times as children. You’d eat ripe peaches and cake and slowly, this incident would move past you until it was only what it was; a shadow in the corner, in the dead of night…
my taglist (open): @princesschimchim1325 @cecestea @jacesvelaryons @princessvelaryon @diannnnsss
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wp100 · 1 year ago
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it's so funny i dont watch pdp anymore for obvious reasons yet he's the reason i found parappa. if i had never watched him i would have gotten into the game way later or would have never even known of its existence. unless i was looking for ps1 games much later in my teenagehood
this goes with a lot of other things too. amnesia playthroughs were so fun to watch
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