#im an empath so this picture brings me to tears

[mxvladdy]

heyy i just read your fic Case of the Munchies on ao3 and im Loving it!!!! its amazing!! i was wonder if youre accepting requests and if you haven’t done it could you write the same for the rest: mammon, levi, satan, belphi, dia, barbatos and smth for simeon and luke (ofc platonic) like how angles have a true form and that means they can never relax around mc and how solomon has so much power at his fingertips he can just snap and end them or smth like that? pretty please and thank you!!!!

A/N: Of Course! Of Course! I already did Mammon and Levi HERE so I’ll do the other four in this request! You sent me a lot of good ideas and I’ll sprinkle them out into other requests soon!

Hope you like it!!

Case of the Munchies prt 3!

Word Count: 4.2k

Characters: Satan, Belphie, Diavolo, Barbatos

TW: Mentions of eating and cook humans, very mild gore

Satan

As the only full-blooded demon of the seven, he has thought about it...just hypothetically of course. When you were new to the Devildom he did find your scent more appetizing than the others. It’s a good thing he has the most restraint and control of all his kin, especially when it comes to his more base urges.

He doesn’t hide this knowledge from you. It’s readily available in the library and his own room in the history books. He just won’t bring it up. So if you don’t say anything, he won’t either. What would he say anyway? “Yes, I’ve thought about it, up until it was outlawed it was a staple of our diet after all…” Ye, probably not the best thing to say.

When you finally brought it up he was exasperated. Did you have to bring it up during the few hours he had alone with himself? He wasn’t going to lie but the thought of hurting your feelings would just about do him in.

He will alleviate your worries if you have any. If Satan was anything, he was genuine.

Mini Fic

His wine curdles in his stomach, turning sour along with the take-out he had nabbed for the two of you to enjoy tonight. Drinks and dinner were becoming a staple in your T.V. night tradition. If one of you had had a rough day you would drop by your favorite shop of the hour and pick up a meal to share while you vent.

Today in particular had been a shit day for him. Failed experiment after failed experiment, and one bottle that didn’t explode on impact with the potion he dropped. Sigh. At least your comforting words soothed his wounded pride a little. You chuckle at his escapades glad to see he is not hurt at least. It was nice to have someone to see the humor in something that normally would have dampened his mood.

“You’re a pest.” He laughs at you while snapping his takeout chopsticks in half to use. “I need sympathy-hours of work wasted.” You snort into your own bowl of udon.

“You need words of praise like Beel needs another stomach.” Satan gasps in mock insult pointing a sauce stained chopstick at you.

“How dare you insult your host! After I toiled over this meal of-” What did he get exactly? Honestly, when he placed the order he was near boiling with rage at his careless fumble. It was to be a surprise for you, something to give you a bit of magic while supervised by himself. He knew how frustrated you were with your lack of magical ability in class so he wanted to gift you something grand. Now he has to wait months to try again.

Ah, well...nothing ventured nothing gained as they say.

You watch him sulk over his soup dumplings, his mile away from the comfort of your company and his room. “Come on blondie.” You poke him with your foot before burying them under his pajama-clad thighs on the couch. “Eat your ‘hard earned’ meal before I do.” You snatch up his D.D.D forgetting your own food for a moment to set up your favorite streaming service to cast to his small T.V. “Want to watch a bunch of humans fail miserably at baking?”

"I thought you would never ask."

Satan feels you stiffen in his arms two hours into your bake-off marathon. Your takeout boxes are cold and forgotten on his coffee table, a bottle of wine gone between the two of you. He glances down at you curious.

You were transfixed on the screen. The novice baker on screen was struggling to keep his monstrosity of a cake upright. It was the annual Halloween episode and this fool went for a Silence of the Lambs inspired cake. A good concept really, but very poorly executed. The fake body parts and sugar blood weighted the pastry down dangerously. If he were, to be frank, the cake was also tacky as hell. Heh, he'd have to try to make this for Lucifer.

"Does his abuse of the piping gun offend you that much?" He jokes wrapping an arm around you.

Your laugh is breathy and lacks its usual warmth. "It is excessive isn't it?" You look up at him. "Hey, Satan-have you ever eaten people before?"

"Uhh…" Great, how eloquent. This came out of nowhere, did Lucifer set you up to this? No-no you wouldn’t. Would you hate him if you knew? “I have.” He admits through clenched teeth waiting for your reaction.

“Didn’t Diavolo ban it?” He can tell you are doing the mental math in your head.

He chuckles dryly. “Well, you never asked if I did it legally.” You move away from his touch and pause the show. “I mean...I did it legally! ” His mouth runs freely, his brain screaming at him to shut up.

“Satan.” You cross your arms unimpressed.

“It was a new law and I never meant to eat it for the most part. It was at a time where I was still struggling to control myself.” Young and stupid as Lucifer had said defending him every step of the way when he would slip up. Was it sold on the black market now? Yes. Did he know how to get it? Sure, but he would never nor would he tell you about it either.

You nod thinking about his words. “I can empathize.” Oh, thank the Devil. “Have you thought of eating me?”Ahhh. “Oh my God, you have.” You chuck a pillow at him with a laugh.

He catches the pillow and clutches it to his fiery hot face. “Everyone did at first!” If he was going down then he was going to take every one of his brothers down with him. “I wasn’t going to act on it! It was a spur of the moment-why are you laughing!”

“Sorry, sorry.” You wipe at the tears in your eyes wishing you had your phone to take a picture of his blushing face. “I kind of figured you did.”

Satan looks at you incredulously. “Shouldn’t you be a bit more torn up over this?”

You shrug. “After everything we’ve been through? I admit it was a shock to think at first but I mean, you would have done it by now right?”

“Well, thank you?” He flops back on the couch, still clutching the pillow to act as a barrier between you two. He’ll take it as a compliment.

You scoot close, nudging his knee with yours. “You ok?” He nods. “Can I touch you?” He nods again eagerly. You wrap your arms around his shoulders and squeeze. “Sorry, I made you uncomfortable.”

Satan chuckled, dropping the pillow to hug you back. “It’s ok.” He peaks your forehead. “Now, with that out of the way. Shall we finish this?” He swipes up his phone to hit play. You nod, flinging your legs over him to snuggle closer. “Good, I’m dying to know how he tries to save that thing. I’m putting money on icing.”

“You know.” You break the silence once more, unable to stop yourself. “I wouldn’t be opposed to being eaten...in some ways.”

Belphegor

After your first *ahem* encounter, he doesn’t bring up the whole food thing. He is afraid that if you learned about it, it would be the last strike for you and his relationship. Perhaps it’s paranoia on his part but better safe than sorry.

In all honesty, he didn’t eat it that much anyway. Killing humans was something he did often in his youth as a demon. A stupid attempt at revenge on his part. It filled the holes in his hearts to hurt those he believed killed his sister.

But to eat their flesh? Disgusting. He tried it a few times and it turned his stomach with every mouthful. He just hated them too much to even stomach them. He’s mellowed out with time but still never got a taste for it.

When you asked it was a shock but welcomed in a way. Like he could finally get this weight off his shoulders every time he looked at you.

Mini Fic

“It’s gross.” Belphie yawns, jumping up to sit on the high garden wall. He bends down to help you up placing you gently next to himself. The wind catches you by surprise threatening to topple you back from the wall before he rights you. He tosses his sweater over you with a nod of satisfaction.

You snuggle into the fleece lining burying your nose into the fabric. It smelled of elderberries and honeysuckles. Belphie watches you curl up into his side with a fond smile. “Seriously, you all are nasty.”

“Ouch!” You push his shoulder with a grin. “I feel like I should be offended on behalf of all humans.”

Belphie snorts, looking up into the bright colors of the night sky. “Good. Be offended. You, humans, are slimy.” You squawk indignantly. “It’s true, never in all my years would I willingly ingest it.” He shudders theatrically.

“Rude.”

“Shouldn’t you be happy? Lest I eat you?” He growls playfully, taking a swipe at you. He pulls you close to kiss the pout off your face. He stops only when your face is hot and your smile threatens to pull a muscle. “I’ll keep you safe, always.” He vows resting his chin on your head.

“Do you think other demons would try to eat me?”

“Have you met my twin?” He teases. He takes your jab to his ribs with a smile. “But if one of those lesser demons even tries to breathe in your direction I’ll kill them.”

“Ok, Mister sleeps till dinner.” You joke. His vow warms your heart a little, chasing away the small bit of fear that had rested itself in your chest. You saw how some demons looked at you at R.A.D, the longing and hungry looks got to be a bit much sometimes. A few older demons would discuss it loudly when they knew you were close by. Apparently, it was a long standing tradition of demons eating humans both body and soul when a pact was concluded.

Imagine what those brothers would do to them…

You shake your head hugging Belphie closer. You had nothing but his word that he would keep you safe, yet that was enough for you. Besides, he wasn’t one to follow the rules even at the best of times.

“I’m serious. You're off limits for everyone.”

You nod into his shirt, closing your eyes to enjoy the peace of the moment. “I’ll hold you to it.”

Diavolo

It is so far from his mind that when you say something it is like a rug was taken out from under him. He could be diplomatic about it, but you deserve better than a half-truth.

He was a wild child in his youth. Sometimes he would overindulge in his father’s heritage and gorge himself on his newfound powers and privilege. He would dine with the elders and eat with abandon under their proud eyes.

He regrets it now, in your company it brings up a slurry of emotions. Sometimes when he looks at you he sees flashes of his past behavior.

The urge is stronger in him than the brothers, a constant nagging tug in his guts, but he is strong. Stronger both in willpower and sheer physical prowess than them so the pull is more of an annoyance than a burning need. He can temper the hunger in other ways if need be *wink*

He fears what you might think of him if you ever found out the truth, but however you take it he will handle it in stride. He loves you too much not to.

Mini Fic

Dinners, when Diavolo could eat alone, were a rare and special treat. The solace of just being allowed to exist without constantly checking his posture or presentation was a blessing, just him, his thoughts, and a good meal. It was nice to have no paperwork to worry about staining this time or a tedious meeting where he couldn’t savor his meal. No, no this was good. He looks down at his heavily laden plate and smiles. Well, almost… Pulling out his phone he snaps a quick picture and sends it to you with a simple question. Join me?

Private meals were wonderful, but with you, they were perfect.

You arrive faster than he expected, flushed face and clutching a stitch in your side from rushing over. He almost felt bad before he saw the eager look in your eyes. Barbatos helps you with your school bags and coat before placing another plate of food across from the young lord. He winks at the prince before disappearing back through the door.

“Thank you for the invite!” You beam taking your seat across from him. “I hope you don’t mind that I'm not dressed for the occasion. I was just wrapping up a study session with the boys.” You look down at your rumpled lounge clothes.

Diavolo waved his hand disregarding your concerns. “I would emulate you if I had the time.” He looks at his own pressed school uniform. He had another meeting this evening, much to his distaste. “You look rather comfortable.” You smile in delight before tucking into your own plate.

You eat in a comfortable silence reading the room well enough to tell that he wished for some company but not needless chitter-chatter. Barbatos arrived moments after you put your fork down and left with the plate leaving behind a delicious smelling hot drink. You couldn’t put your finger on the flavor but it tastes spicy like cinnamon and coats your throat like warm honey.

Whatever was in the drink seemed to work some magic on the prince. His shoulder droop, his back sinking into the chair as his legs stretch out till they are close to brushing against yours. He starts talking over the drink, eyes slowly lighting up with delight. You drink, nodding along with him as he builds up steam. It was nice to see him so unguarded and light. You listen to him talk about simple innocent topics. You knew how he tried to have these conversations with the others to no avail. The brother’s always tried to stay clear of him, and Lucifer simply dismissed these things most days. Barbatos and the angels were a bit better but still listened mostly to placate him.

“Ah!” Diavolo stops mid-sentence as his door opens once more Barbatos holding a small platter in his gloved hand. Dia claps his hands in delight. “I’ve been wanting to have you try this with me for forever. The human palate is so different, but I hope this is tasty.”

“What is it?” You eye the covered plate curiously.

Dia says a word in infernal. It is harsh and guttural in his throat but his delight was evident in his tone. “It is like...a roasted nut? Sorry, it is difficult to explain but it has been a favorite treat of mine since I was a boy. I hope you like it too.” He opens the lid with little ceremony and tilts the bowl to you. Inside were several golfball sized pods piled on top of each other. Even from across the table you could feel the molten heat radiating from the porous black shell. It looked...ugly. Like a hunk of dried lava. You eye it suspiciously as Diavolo picks one up with his bare hands and bits it. The shell cracks under his sharp teeth, a fang catching in a weak spot with a noise that makes you shiver. Underneath the thick casing, you could see a dark red and fleshy core. He hums in delight pulling put the meat of the seed and discard the shell pieces onto an empty plate. He makes quick work of the innards already reaching for another by the time you casually pick up a seed.

The seed itself was dense and warm to the touch. You squeeze it, noting that the porous coating felt like a mass of steel in your hand. “Dia-how do I open it?” No way you could bite it, not without breaking your jaw in the process.

“Allow me.” He takes it from you and effortlessly cracks it. “It is a tradition to break them with teeth, instead of hands or utensils. Something about a show of strength. I just find it fun.” He shrugs, handing you the broken seed.

“Fun!” You marvel at his pearly fangs. “Those are some big chompers.”

“All the better to eat you with my dear.” He chuckles.

You blink in shock, eyes widening. “Would you? Eat me?”

Diavolo’s smile drops. “No.” He lies on reflex, his political nature kicking in. “No-no wait.” He shakes his head. “I...at a time would have without hesitation.” He feels you recoil. “It was common practice back in the day. To the common demon it was a great meal and for the ruling class a show. He looks down at the broken fragments of shell on his plate. Breaking the shell was far too reminiscent of other things. He squashes the unwanted wave of memories coming up. Instead, he looks up at you.

You sit quietly mulling over his words. You haven’t run yet. “Why did you stop?”

He leans back with a loud exhale. Why did he stop? There were many reasons, none he wished to divulge into at the moment, but he had to say something. “I grew up, and began to resent and regret it.” He used to read human stories of demons and his kind. They hurt their characterizations of him and his people. Yet, they had all been scarily accurate. He wanted to prove that they weren’t stagnating beasts, slaves to their desires. Even if it wasn't a popular opinion.

“I see.” You pick up the seed again. “Thank you for telling me. You didn’t have to.”

“But I wanted to, and to apologize… such admissions must have ruined your appetite. If you wish to retire-”

“Is it weird if it didn’t?” You cut him off. You felt-not apathetic to the knowledge but close to it. It confirmed a lot of things for you and put certain things in perspective. You still felt safe with him even with this new bit of knowledge. Without a second thought, you pop the treat into your mouth. You gasp in delight. The flavor and texture were not what you were expecting, but was delicious all the same. “Can you open another for me?” You push your plate over to him.

“Of course!”

The food was as wonderful as his company.

Barbatos

You knew he cooked it. He probably knows a million different ways to prepare a human. He is also very blunt about his dabblings in the market.

He doesn’t eat it, hasn’t ever. He sees no reason to, especially since he doesn’t need to eat anyway there is no temptation. He did find the meals he created beautiful though.

Once he lived for the praises of the courts and his young lord. He was a master at all mediums he cared to work with. Time, decorum, or of the flesh.

He is 100% unashamed of his past with the dark side of the Devildom’s history. In fact, he is damn near proud of it. He is a demon and it was a part of his life, if that frightens you, well there is nothing he can do about it.

He’ll entertain your questions and will try to put any lingering worries at ease. Just don’t expect to be coddled when he does.

Mini Fic

Barbatos had very few personal pleasures in his life. His schedule simply didn’t have the space for such things. So why even bother looking for a pastime. It wasn’t until Diavolo gifted him with an old worn cookbook did he find it.

Cooking was a necessity for his prince, but with that little book, it became something he looked forward to doing. Slowly, he began to seek them out, filling his growing quarters with cookbooks and loose-leaf slips of paper. He enjoys reading them. Each book was a little time capsule into the cook's life and memories. Could a mix of spices really remind someone of the arid heat of their motherland? Or does following a certain way of aging meat really honor the writer's late grandfather’s memory? He tries them all, each recipe a little invasion to a happier time.

He wrote his fair share of cookbooks too in his day. Simple modifications to things the young lord liked to the odd machinations of his own imagination. He got good at experimenting with flavors and textures over the years, mastering certain cooking techniques and flavors just for fun. He didn’t share many of them, a lot of his recipes were just too complicated for most. Luke was allowed to look at his pastry books only. The little cherub was enamored with his techniques and wanted to learn as much as he could in the short amount of time he was in the Devildom. Admirable, but he made sure to keep some of his...less savory books away from the boy. He shudders to think what Simeon would do if he scarred the young angel.

You are the only one who has full access to his collections. Whether you liked to cook was inconsequential to him. He simply enjoyed sharing this interest with you. Some nights you would take it upon yourself to be his “sous-chef”. Which meant you sat in the corner of the kitchen and read out the ingredients and steps for a recipe he knew by heart. Sometimes you would add in extra steps in an attempt to stump it. Cute...but ultimately failed each time. So, most nights when you tagged along to the kitchens you just flip through his collection, reading his immaculate scribblings crammed into the corners of the pages or where he scratched out certain ingredients for more demon-appropriate foods and more sustainable options.

You had gone through many beautiful books before you found it. The cookbook was small and inconspicuous compared to most. Just a simple black cover with a well-worn spine. What made you take notice of it was just how dusty it was. That wasn’t like him to do. Barbatos would never let something get so dirty. You wished you never had opened it. You weren’t stupid by any means, but after reading a few pretty graphic recipes it had unsettled you. So you withdrew from Barbatos trying to forget about the book tucked away deep in the bowels of your school bag.

“You’ve been distant.” You choke, hand flying up to your chest as you swear your heart skipped a beat. Damn demon. Should put a bell on him. “What’s wrong?” His eyes are piercing, cutting away at your feeble defenses.

“Nothing…” You fiddle with your bag’s strap. Your eyes drop to the floor taking in the differences between his polished shoes and your scuffed boots.

“Of course not…” You could hear the skepticism in his voice. “I trust that if there was something wrong you would feel safe enough to confide in me.” His words hit like a ton of bricks on your shoulders. He sighs seeing that his words got no reaction. “Please?”

Wordlessly you rummage in your bag and thrust the book into his chest. “Sorry. It shook me up more than I thought it would.”

Ah. He knew this book all too well. For a time it had been his favorite, one to pull out with Diavolo had guests or a deal that needed to be sealed. He accepts the book, noting how much your hands shook. “I understand.” He slips the book into his breast pocket making a mental note to hide it in one of his lesser used rooms. “Would you like to discuss this? In my room perhaps?” You follow with a timid nod.

“Where shall we begin?” Barbatos asks the moment he closes the door to his room.

“You don’t seem perturbed.” You frown. Barbatos shrugs, pulling the book out and opening it. He had a lot of good memories stored here. Some of these were still considered signature dishes, oftentimes a visiting dignitary would lament to him about the good old days when he could show off his craft when flesh was plentiful. He takes pride in that still to this day even. For as much as he loved you, he would not be ashamed of this.

“I didn’t mean it like that.” You shake your head when he says as much. “It just confused me. Do-do you see me as food?”

“I never saw humans as food, no more than I see demons or angels as it.” He picks at an imaginary bit of lent from his pant leg. “As for seeing you as food no. No matter how sweet your lips are, or how honeyed your words can be.” He smiles, taking impish delight in your squirming. “I merely did my job as a butler for my lord.”

“Oh- sorry for not coming to you sooner.” You felt foolish now. Barbatos waves it off, pleased to have this issue put aside so quickly and cleanly. “Wait-" You gasp as his words finally sink in. “Have you prepared angels before?”

He flashes you a mischievous smile putting a single finger up to his lips. “Perhaps~ do you wish to read that too?”

[haven-raven012591]

An Extraordinary Christmas

Paring: Fergal Devitt X OC Raven

Warning: None, just pure Fluff

Word Count: 4,956 (it took on a life of it's own)

Art work by @wrestling-edits-af

Raven sat looking at the people walk by and sighed heavily. "Lass?" Fergal asked as he touched her hand. She jumped and looked at him her eyes misty. He moved to her side and she licked her lips. 'Please don't ask me.' Raven thought as he thumbed away the first tear. Fergal looked at his phone and saw the date. "My beautiful Raven don't cry." Fergal whispered as he stroked her hair. The ball of emotion that was stuck in her throat got bigger. She tried to swallow it and the sadness she had but she couldn't.

He pulled her close and held her tightly just letting her cry silently. She moved and he kissed her forehead softly. "I'm sorry, Fergal." Raven whispered timidly. "Ya don't have ta apologize lass, I understand how much it hurts ta lose a pet suddenly." Fergal said softly. His voice was soothing and soft, like a gentle rain or the wind blowing softly through your hair. "It was a few years ago, but I miss her so much sometimes." Raven said softly. He noticed how timid she'd become all of a sudden. "What's wrong, Raven you can talk ta me ya know tat." Fergal asked.

He knew it was more than sadness she seemed off to him. She was normally so happy and talkative. "It's nothing Fergal." Raven said and gave him her best fake smile. "Uh huh, try again lass, I know tere's someting wrong I can feel it." Fergal said. She hated that he was an Empath sometimes. "I don't know why you wanted to talk tonight, it feels like...like I'm gonna lose you too." Raven said. "What, oh Raven no love!" Fergal said as he brushed away new tears. He cupped her face in his hands and laid his forehead to hers.

"I have an early Christmas present for you, I have ta give it to ya now because... ya'll see." Fergal said. He kissed her softly and hugged her close rubbing her back. "Just keep it til Christmas it's only twenty days away." Raven sighed as she closed her eyes. She nuzzled his chest sighing softly as she listened to his heart beat. He kissed the top of her head. "Normally I would but ya need ta know about it now lass." Fergal said. She looked up and he couldn't resist any longer, he leaned in and kissed her deeply.

She ran her hands up his back and gripped his shoulders. His hands moved into her hair. When they pulled back she touched his cheek and smiled. "I know it's only been a year, that we've been through some tough times but I have to tell you something." Raven said. Her voice was stronger now and her eyes didn't look as sad. He caressed her cheek and she teared up again. "I need air please move." Raven whispered. He brushed back her hair. "I love you Raven, but more tan tat I'm fallin in love wit you." Fergal said.

She stopped breathing and looked away. He gently tilted her chin up with his thumb and index finger. "My little bird tere is more tan fear of losin me in yer eyes." Fergal said softly. "I love you with all of my heart Fergal Devitt, I'm so in love with you it scares me." Raven said. He kissed her softly. "Ten why were ya so scared you'd lose me?" Fergal asked. He brushed away her tears. "I'm not the kinda girl guys like you fall for." Raven whispered. "Lass, yer special I didn't need eyes ta see tat all I need was my heart." Fergal said.

She put her hand on his heart and licked her lips. "Fergal you're so special my love." Raven said. "A ghrá." Fergal said. She leaned up and kissed him softly. "I have ta go soon, a ghrá." Fergal whispered. "Don't go Fergal stay with me please, all I want is you to hold me." Raven babbled. He caressed her cheek and leaned in close brushing his lips across hers. "If ya come ta the show." Fergal whispered to her lips. "I can't I don't have a ticket." Raven whispered. He smirked and she blushed. "I can fix tat, and a back stage pass for ya, a ghrá just say yes." Fergal said.

He stroked her cheek and she nodded. "Use yer words." Fergal teased. "Yes." Raven whispered. He captured her lips in a searing kiss as her arms went around his neck. Her back hit the glass and she gripped his hair as his tongue thrust inside her mouth licking hers coaxing it out. Hers followed his as his retreated into his mouth and she pulled his hair. The short silky strands felt good between her fingers. When he pulled back her lips were swollen from his kiss. "Open yer present." Fergal whispered and put the box on the table.

She caressed his cheek looking into his Ocean blue eyes. "I'm gonna love watching you tonight." Raven said. He giggled and looked away blushing. She turned and opened the box. "Oh my God!" Raven said. She looked at the plane ticket to Ireland then looked at him. "I want ya wit me Raven, it's time my family met the woman tat stole my heart." Fergal said. "You're sure Fergal?" Raven asked. "Yes, Raven say yes lass, come home wit me ta Ireland." Fergal said. "I feel so honoured." Raven said.

"What do ya mean?" Fergal asked. "To meet your family, you're very protective of them and it's beautiful." Raven said. He looked away and she kissed his forehead. "No one's ever said tat ta me." Fergal said. "Im an odd duck." Raven said. "Don't ya dare call yerself tat in my presents!" Fergal snapped. She giggled and smiled. "Look at you being all protective of me." Raven said. Her eyes sparkled and her heart melted at the fire in his gaze. "Yer my Raven, my a ghrá yer not strange!" Fergal almost growling at her.

"I'm a strange bird with pretty feathers, Fergal and I'm proud of it." Raven said. He looked into her beautiful hazel eyes and knew she was telling the truth. "Yer so special Raven, so unique it's part of what makes ya so beautiful." Fergal said. She blushed and he smiled a little. "Come on lass, let's get ta the arena so ya can get ta yer seat." Fergal said. She put the lid on the box and put it in her purse. He stood up and then gave her his hand. She took his hand and they went to the arena.

They walked in together and Karl smiled at them. "We'll look at what the cat dragged in!" Karl laughed. She hugged him and looked up at him. "Nice to see you too." Raven said. Luke picked her up and she laughed. "Looks like we have ourselves a good sister now." Luke said. "You goof put me down I'm not use to being this tall!" Raven laughed. "That's because you're with someone so short!" Baron said. "Yeah and it takes a big man to make me feel tall!" Raven snapped. "Oh look it's a rabid bird!" Baron said. "I can shit on you if you'd like dipshit!" Raven growled.

"Watch what you say girl I can have you escorted from the building." Baron snarled. "I have a pass, and I'm not doing anything wrong." Raven said. "Piss off Corbin!" Fergal said. "I am your Universal Champion, I demand respect!" Baron snapped. "Remember who has a title match come TLC, Baron." Raven said. She had a sing song quality to her voice, like she was enjoying the visions in her head. Luke put her down and she kissed Fergal going to her seat. Fergal looked at Baron and smirked. "She's right, watch yer back!" Fergal said.

They walked off and Baron smirked. She was clapping and smiling as she watched Gallows and Anderson win the tag team belts. They stayed until Fergal came out. She stood up and he winked at her. It was the best thing to see him on a Monday night! "Ferg!" Karl said as he moved toward her. She looked up and looked at Baron! "Don't be this way." Raven whispered. "Turn around and do nothing!" Baron said. She did what he said and looked at Fergal smiling. He went to get out of the room and she shook her head.

He nodded and she touched her necklace and he froze. In that instant he knew what he was going to give her for Christmas. Baron stayed behind her the entire match and she hated it. His energy was making her feel sad and was also making her feel sick. "Stay here until it's done." Baron warned. She saw people rush out and looked at him. "Stop this!" Raven growled. "This is because of your words, little bird." Baron spat. He used Fergals Nick name for her in loo of calling her a bitch. She teared up. "You're no man!" Raven said.

He smirked and laughed as he walked off. She turned and saw Karl and Luke run out and smiled. After they cleared the ring and the cameras where off, she ran to the back finding him. "Fergal." Raven said. "Raven are ya ok, lass?" Fergal asked and ran to her. She kissed him softly and he held her head in his hands. "It was all because of me, Fergal I am so sorry." Raven said. "All tat was supposed ta happen." Fergal said and kissed her slowly. "It was storyline." Raven said. "Yes lass don't let tat asshole get in ta yer head." Fergal said.

They went to the hotel after they ate. He came out and she was looking at pictures of Ireland on her laptop. "Can't wait ta get tere lass?" Fergal asked. She turned and smiled at him. "I can't baby I'm so excited!" Raven said. He laid on the bed and she got up and laid with him. "Raven today was amazing." Fergal whispered. She snuggled close to him. "It was, I love you so much Fergal." Raven said softly. "My Raven." Fergal breathed. "Only yours." Raven sighed as she laid her head on his chest. He stroked her hair and she drifted off.

"Yer safe my Raven." Fergal whispered. She nuzzled his chest as she sighed in her sleep. He drifted off as he stroked her hair. "Fergal." Raven coughed. He woke up and looked down at her. "Shh what's wrong?" Fergal asked. "You left." Raven whispered. He stroked her cheek and she sighed. "Never." Fergal said. He kissed her forehead then her lips softly as he held her head in his hands. She loved his hands the rough yet smooth skin of them. How big they were and how strong they were.

His fingers snaked their way into her hair gripping softly. "Raven, I had a nightmare too I tougt I was goin ta lose ya and I can't lose my Raven!" Fergal said. "Your Raven huh?" Raven teased. "Yes!" Fergal said. He cupped her cheeks and kissed her long and slow bringing her down to lay on him. She moved and straddled one of his thighs and laid on his chest. His hands kneaded her ass slowly and she moaned into his lips. Her heart rate spiked and he pulled back. "Are ya ok?" Fergal asked. "Yes, it felt really good though baby." Raven giggled.

He kissed her long and slow. "I love ya so much Raven!" Fergal said.TLC was that night and she was so insanely scared for him. She ran to him after the camera left and kissed him long and slow. "I did it." Fergal panted and put the belt on the road case. "You were amazing Fergal, I am so proud of you!" Raven said. He picked her up and hugged her tightly. She giggled and kissed him again. He rubbed her back and she giggled looking at the paint coming off him. "Let me help with this, My King." Raven teased.

"Ya have no idea how much I love ya, My Queen!" Fergal said. "I've got a little bit of an idea." Raven said.They went to his dressing room and she helped him get the paint off. "Fergal, are you ok baby?" Raven asked. "Yes lass I'm just tired." Fergal said. He leaned on her shoulder. She rubbed his back. "You have to do interviews and go out with your boys." Raven said. "Lass all I want is you!" Fergal said. "I'll be at the hotel when you get there baby." Raven said. "I want ya wit us." Fergal said. "If you want baby." Raven said. "I do." Fergal said.

She kissed his forehead and smiled. "Then I'm all yours." Raven said. She finished helping him get most of the paint off and he got dressed. He did interviews and he looked so good with the title on his shoulder again. "Raven." Becky said. "Humm?" Raven asked as she turned to Becky. "Ya look out of it." Becky said. "I'm just so damn proud of him does that sound weird?" Raven asked. "No love ya sound like a great girlfriend, and honestly he's happier now tan I've seen him in a long time." Becky said. Raven teared up. "Really?" Raven asked.

Becky hugged her tightly. "Really." Becky said. They talked and then went out with the boys. After the guys left and it was just Raven and Fergal in their room, he kissed her passionately. She let him pick her up and kiss her neck. "Fergal that feels so good but stop baby." Raven whispered. He laid her down and looked at her. "Ya don't want me?" Fergal pouted. "I want you to rest silly." Raven said. He held her hips in his hands. "After." Fergal said. "No baby, you have a long day tomorrow." Raven said. "Yer right but I want my Raven!" Fergal said.

She blushed and ran her hands over his chest. "Shh my love." Raven said. She stripped him and gave him a massage much to his protests. He sighed as she laid next to him and he pulled her closer. He drifted off and she did too. When she woke up he was gone. She knew he had to so he wouldn't be here when she had to leave. He was so sweet and so amazing but he hated goodbyes. She got dressed and went to the airport. "Raven!" Fergal yelled. She turned and he ran to her kissing her deeply.

"Be safe my beautiful Raven, I love you." Fergal said. "Fergal, I love you too." Raven said. She kissed him softly and waved goodbye to him as she walked off. When she got home she crashed and when she woke up it was time for Raw. She watched it and then started the washing she had to do. He texted her and she giggled as she sent him a tired and smilie face back. She woke up early and went to work. When she got home she took a long hot shower and started dinner for them. He walked in and smiled as she yelled at him from the kitchen. He'd hit the jackpot with her.

"So are ya all packed?" Fergal asked. "Nope I'll be ready to go about dinner time tomorrow though." Raven said. He kissed her neck and smiled. "Good!" Fergal said. They ate and she finished his clothes and hers. "I shipped your presents over last week." Raven said as she laid down. "I've got ta get yours." Fergal said. She giggled and they watched Christmas movies until they fell asleep. When they got on the plane she was nervous as all hell. "Relax my mum and dad love ya already." Fergal said. "But your brothers and sister haven't met me." Raven said.

"Tey will love ya, lass just like I do." Fergal said. She kissed him long and slow. "If ya say so." Raven teased. "I do!" Fergal said. "One day I hope." Raven whispered. Fergal looked at her and she quickly lowered her gaze. "Raven, look at me lass." Fergal said. She looked up as one bastard tear ran down her cheek. "We've been tageter for a year ya can't know tat I'm yer one yet." Fergal said. "I know I will not ever love another man like I love you Fergal Devitt." Raven said softly. He blinked and she sighed. "I'm gonna see if I can sleep." Raven said.

She got her neck pillow and put in her head phones. He watched her sleep and sighed softly. "Maybe ya could slow down." Fergal whispered. Raven heard him because she was only pretending to sleep. Fergal touched her hand and she looked at him as tears started. "I'm sorry ya heard me." Fergal said. "I'm not." Raven said. He brushed the tears away as she took her head phones off. "I love you like mad Raven, ya have ta believe tat." Fergal said. "I do, but when I say the same I have to slow down?" Raven asked confused.

"Yes, because I'm older I've been in love before." Fergal said. "I have to remember, you broke him in half for hurting me!" Raven said. "Yes lass I do, but I'm still not sure yer over him yet!" Fergal said. "I was alone for two years, I picked up the pieces of my shattered heart and sewed them together with your help." Raven said. He looked at her and she looked down. "We're fighting." Raven breathed. "No lass, we're discussing." Fergal said. "I shouldn't be here." Raven whispered. She gathered her stuff and the flight attendant helped her move.

He sat back and shook his head. "Fergal Devitt yer a damned fool!" Becky said and turned in her seat. "Yeah I know but how do I fix it?" Fergal asked. Becky walked back and sat next to her. "How long are ya gonna make him suffer?" Becky asked. "Until he comes back here and tells me why I have to slow down." Raven said. "Tougt tat would be obvious love." Becky said. "Either I'm stupid or it's not as obvious as you think." Raven snapped. "Hey, easy love yer far from stupid, and it's obvious for tose tat know him." Becky said.

That one hurt like hell, like she didn't know him?! "Obviously I don't know him, so tell me." Raven said her voice cracking. Becky closed her eyes and licked her lips. "Raven, I didn't mean ya don't know him, it's easy ta see." Becky said. That was it she'd had enough. "Leave me alone, both of you, and since you know him so fucking well you can have him." Raven growled. She turned her back to Becky and looked out the window wishing she really was a bird. Becky got up and sat in her seat. "What did ya do Becky?" Fergal asked. "I fucked up too." Becky said.

Raven cried herself to sleep. And when she woke up Fergal was next to her. "Told Becky I want to be alone." Raven snapped. "She didn't mean ta say tose tings." Fergal said. "I'm fine!" Raven lied. "I'm not." Fergal said. She looked at him and touched his cheek. "Your scared." Raven breathed. "Yes." Fergal said. "I'm not going anywhere." Raven said. He kissed her passionately and she returned his kiss. She pulled back. "I am spending Christmas with you and your family Fergal, this is big and you wanted this, if it's too soon I'll go home." Raven babbled.

"No, ya have ta stay wit me, wit us lass tis isn't too soon I want ya here." Fergal said. "I love you like mad and no other man will ever mean what you do to me, I have found my one Fergal!" Raven said. "I love ya like mad as well lass, and no oter woman can take yer place in my heart, I have found my one as well my Raven!" Fergal said. She threw her arms around him and he held her tightly. She moved to her original seat and her and Becky hugged it out. "I didn't mean it the way it came out Raven, yer perfect for him." Becky said.

"Glad ta know yer still lookin out for me Becky." Fergal said. "You're my best friend Becks." Raven said. They all laughed and talked. She looked out over the sleepy hills still tucked into the blanket of darkness. "When the sun rises you'll love it lass." Fergal said. "I love it now." Raven said. They landed and she took his hand. "I'm in Ireland with you, for Christmas!" Raven said. He brushed the tears away. She kissed him slowly. "Yes ya are lass, welcome ta my home." Fergal said. They left Becky there in Dublin.

They drove to Bray. He pulled into this little driveway to this small house with roses climbing the wall. She got out and he looked at her. She looked around and then at him. "My god, I'm home." Raven breathed. He went to her. "What was tat?" Fergal asked. "I'm home." Raven said. He held her close and smiled down at her. "Let's go in lass it's cold." Fergal said. They went in and she looked around seeing dark wood furniture that was warm and inviting. The fire in the fire place gave the cottage this homey vibe. He went and got their bags.

She was running her hands on the couch when he got back. "Do ya like it lass?" Fergal asked. "It's beautiful and so inviting." Raven gushed. He shut the door, locking it and put his coat on the hook. "I'm glad ya like it." Fergal said. She took her coat off hanging it next to his, then she put her shoes next to his and she paused. "Lass?" Fergal asked as he wrapped his arms around her waist. "This place is perfect for two people on a honeymoon." Raven said. "A nice quiet place ta tink and relax." Fergal said. "Yes." Raven sighed.

He kissed her neck as he moved her hair. "Fergal that feels so good!" Raven sighed as he took down her hair and, rolled her head to the side. He feasted on her neck. She was sure he was going to leave marks but she didn't care. "Come on lass we have ta see the bedroom." Fergal said. She turned and looked up at him her hazel eyes darkened with lust. "Yes baby." Raven said. He took her hand and they went to the bedroom. "Oh my God this is so beautiful." Raven said excitedly. She went to the bed and looked at it.

It was dark wood again with intracate carvings on the head board. It was knot work and as she followed the lines he got the bags. She turned to him and he was just in his t-shirt and boxers. "Let me." Raven said. She went to him and took his shirt in her hands. He cupped her cheek and she nuzzled his hand. She kissed his palm and took his shirt off. He smirked at her as she ran her hands over his chest and abs. "Still the most attractive part of you is your heart, My Fergal." Raven said. He kissed her passionately.

She wrapped her arms around his neck and returned his kiss. He picked her up and her legs wrapped around his waist as he laid her on the bed. "Yer shaking." Fergal whispered. "I'm a little cold." Raven said. He kissed her and got up. "I'll start a fire." Fergal said. She grabbed his hand and pulled him onto the bed. "Just keep kissing me and I'll warm up." Raven said. He laughed and she loved how easy he laughed with her. "I love how silly you can be lass." Fergal said. She cupped his cheek and kissed him softly. "Can we start over and forget what happened on the plane?" Raven asked.

"Yer wish is my command." Fergal said. She kissed him again and ran her hands over his back. He untied her skirt and she gasped as his hands ran under her shirt. "Baby your hands are like ice." Raven said. He chuckled and laid his forehead to hers. "Fire first ten I'll finish." Fergal said. She watched him make the fire and as soon as he was sure it would stay he turned to her. She was curled up in the pillows in only her underwear. He blinked and crawled to her.

"I tougt ya where cold." Fergal said. "Just a little." Raven said.

He kissed her softly and she looked at him. She shivered and he touched her arms. "Lass yer frozen why didn't ya get under the covers?" Fergal asked. "I wanted to wait for you and it wasn't that cold." Raven said. He kissed her long and slow bringing her close. "You'll catch a cold lass." Fergal said. She ran her hands over his back. "So warm me up." Raven said. He laughed and kissed her softly. "Get dressed lass I don't want ya sick for Christmas." Fergal said. "I wanna sleep like this I'm comfortable and tired." Raven said.

"Ok lass." Fergal said. They got under the covers and snuggled close. She laid her head on his chest and looked up at him. He smiled at her and held her closer. They went to sleep and when she woke up she was alone. For a few minutes she thought it was all a dream until she saw the flowers by the bed. "Good morning sleeping beauty." Fergal said. She looked at him and the most beautiful smile spread across her face. "Good morning handsome, where have you been?" Raven asked. "Shopping." Fergal said.

She took a shower and they went to his parents house. Everything was so beautiful and she loved meeting his brothers and sister along with their families. "Aww he's so precious may I?" Raven asked. "Of course." Mrs. Devitt said. She gave Raven baby Finn and Raven held him tightly. "Ya look so natural like tat!" Mr Devitt said. "I love babies." Raven said. "Kids in general, she's good wit tem, ya should see her with Chad's kids." Fergal said. Raven sat down and rocked baby Finn to sleep humming softly.

The guys all went to the pub and Raven stayed with him mom and sister. "Fergal loves you." Mrs. Devitt said. "I love him too." Raven said. "Enough ta marry him?" Mrs. Devitt asked. Raven looked at her and nodded. "I know that Fergal is my soulmate." Raven said. "Good." Mrs. Devitt said. They talked and laughed. Fergal came in and looked at his mom and sister confused. "Where's Raven?" Fergal asked. "She's upstairs, asleep." Mrs. Devitt said. "Why?" Fergal asked and ran up the stairs. She laid on his childhood bed with one of his nieces.

"She's fine son, just not use ta the time difference." Mrs. Devitt said softly. "I tougt someting was wrong." Fergal said. "Why don't you get some sleep." Mr. Devitt said. "Yeah ok." Fergal said. He took his coat and shoes off laying behind her. "Hey baby." Raven whispered. "Hey." Fergal whispered. They went to sleep. When he woke up he was alone. The next few days went by so quickly. Soon it was Christmas Eve and they were in the living room with everyone. She gave him one that he could open in front of others and then the others she kept for later.

"I've got one ya have ta open in front of everyone." Fergal said. She sat with him and he handed her a little box. "Fergal!" Raven breathed. She opened it and she sighed giggling. "Earrings." Raven said and showed them. "Love knots." Mr. Devitt said. She looked at the earrings and hugged Fergal. "They're beautiful Fergal, thank you." Raven said. He kissed her long and slow. She handed him the one he could open in front of others. He opened it and laughed. "Legos." Fergal said. "They help you relax." Raven said.

He kissed her again. "I love them Raven, thank you." Fergal said. They watched everyone open presents and played with his nieces and nephews. "Fergal help me." Mrs. Devitt called. He got up and left her playing peek-a-boo with baby Finn. "Tat woman loves you so much!" Mrs. Devitt said. "I love her too mum." Fergal said. "Tis time ya picked a good one." Mrs. Devitt said. They hugged and he went back into the living room. "What are you doing handsome?" Raven cooed at baby Finn. He grabbed her hair and she winced.

"I'm so sorry." His sister said. "Don't be it's ok." Raven giggled and kissed his little hand. Everyone had gone home for the night and his parents had gone to bed. Fergal sat with her on the couch and handed her a box. "What is this?" Raven asked. He kissed her long and slow. "Open it." Fergal said. She did and gasped. "Fergal!" Raven said. He picked up the necklace and she looked at the knot work on the pendent. "Is this a shield knot?" Raven asked. "Yes my Raven." Fergal said. She traced the pendent and he looked at her.

"It's beautiful Fergal I love it so much thank you so much!" Raven said. He put it on her and she teared up. "To protect you for when I can't." Fergal said. She kissed him long and slow. He laid his forehead to hers and held her tightly. "I love you so much Fergal." Raven said. "I love you too Raven." Fergal said. They sat on the couch and looked at the fire just enjoying being with each other in the quiet moment.

@thegloriousdisaster @kittysilver86 @scuzmunkie @team-elias @alexnine @lauri3strode @hardyfangirl3 @balorbj @balordominion @loveroflive78 @wrestlingxbalorxrollins @adriennegabriella @soulofaravenheartofawolf @ladylucksposts @livelifebeautifully81 @calwitch @briqueenofthenorth @2sweetqueen @meremaidqueen @queenofthearchitect @dolphinpink310 @mohawkmama @alternateafterthought

[youngjaelook]

Starless Sky — Jackson Wang

author’s note — sorry this took so long! im working on a few imagines atm so please be patient for those hehehe. not my best work just fyi lmao. also i feel like i write too much GOT7, like not that its a bad thing, but i feel like i need to write about more groups u know what i mean ahsjdkksd anyways hope u guys like this imagine, again a big shout out to @fentitrbl ilysm thanks for being patient and so supportive! #UNEDITED 

This is part of a drabble series: Come Spring Day found here! and Yes drabble found here!

summary — Under a starless sky, you and Jackson welcome your first child. 

warnings  — miscarriage, & slight angst.

word count  — 1.5K

Jackson sits in an empty room. And each of it's four walls are painted yellow — yellow is meant to symbolize happiness, clarity. Yet, Jackson feels neither of those. In fact, he feels nothing at all; he feels hollow and cold inside.

At that moment, with a bottle of whiskey in his hand and tears in his honey brown eyes, he thinks he is Atlas; condemned to hold the weight of the sky forever. But its only been hours, yet it feels like eternity.

"Jackson," he hears your voice in his ear. "come back to bed." Like a stubborn child, he refuses with his silence, still on the cold floor, drinking his worries away.

He knows its wrong, he knows its hurting you more than it hurts him, but Jackson doesn't know what to do, doesn't know what to say.

For the first time in a long time, Jackson feels hopeless, futile almost.

It's not until he hears you sniffle that he turns around to spare you a glance.

The moment your tears become to overwhelming, spilling from the brim of your eyes, Jackson has his arms around you, caging you with his body as he murmurs sweet nothings and incoherent apologies into your hair.

There's an unbearable feeling of guilt that settles into his bones, it bites and nips at the strings of his hearts when your sobs get louder, and your body shakes with sadness and fear. He feels the same way, though he will never get to experience your pain, the torture you're going through.

And as his lips press against yours tenderly, he wishes he could take all your suffering and hurt away.

"Please," your voice is soft, on the verge of breaking. "let's just go back to sleep."

Jackson follows you to bed with no sound. He has one arm around you, the pads of his fingertips brushing against the prominent bulge of your stomach, and it reminds him of the fate it brings.

As you both lay on top of cold, cotton sheets, Jackson speaks. "I don't want to lose you," he murmurs into the dim room. "nor do I want to lose a baby again."

You don't turn to face him, afraid that if you did, you'd worry him even more. You were more than aware that one of these days, your life would be at risk, along with your and Jackson's unborn child.

The faint memory of losing your child for the first time is clear as day in your head. It was April, and the flowers were starting to bloom and the birds outside flocked the trees, humming with delight in the spring morning. Jackson had been out of Seoul for the past few weeks, promoting some designer shoe brand in Italy.

You were four months pregnant, going on five in a matter of few weeks. You were already showing, and you, along with Youngjae, went out to buy a few maternity clothes because your clothes were starting to get a little too tight. And besides, buying new clothes isn't such a bad thing.

Youngjae was in the middle of suggesting to get this burgundy sweater just in case you ever got cold in the apartment, when you had felt it, the odd sensation of wetness dripping down the sides of your legs. "My water broke?"

Youngjae could only stare in horror.

Crimson dripped down your thighs like rain drops falling against a window. You don't remember much after that, you only knew Youngjae had called Jackson, who literally got on a plane the second he hung up the phone, and that you had lost a child.

The whole thing had been plastered on every tabloid, and Jackson's company had to do some major damage control. The headlines still haunt you to this day, you can only imagine what it's like for Jackson.

Nearly a year later, you and Jackson have been trying, and at first, when you had found out that you had fallen pregnant once again, the two of you were thrilled. Then after one specific trip to the doctors sent the two of you back five steps.

She had described in detail that this pregnancy would have complications and that you might have to have an emergency C-section if your child wouldn't dilate in time. She also reminded the both of you that, you wouldn't only lose the child, but that there was a high possibility that Jackson would lose you, too.

"You won't lose us, Jackson." Your sweet voice doesn't do much to calm the racing of his heart, instead it crushes him and sends a shot of hot electricity through his veins. And the sound of your voice is haunting him as you fall asleep beside him, and as the sun rises from behind the hills.

The days don't get easier as they pass.

Trips to the hospital are a constant, so are sharp pains in your belly. Jackson, instead of being supportive and staying right beside you, has grown distant and detached, only ever talking to you when you ask a question, or when you suggest names for the baby, other than that it's just silence and shrugs.

It's nearly half past eight and Jackson's side of the bed is empty and cold, and you don't even wonder where he is because you know he's in the nursery, sulking like always.

You want to empathize with him, but he's making it so hard for you to even feel one empathetic bone in your body. He doesn't acknowledge how difficult it is for you, only ever thinking about himself and how he feels.

Your blood boils, while tears blur your vision.

You throw the sheets off of you, and practically march to the nursery, ignoring the pain that shoots up to your stomach.

Jackson stands in the middle of the room, this time, no bottle of alcohol in hand. He just stands there, lustrous brown eyes admiring the yellow paint, the soft cashmere blankets draped over the rocking chair by the corner, the blank picture frames hung above the crib.

You're opening your mouth to speak, but there's a ringing in your ears, and you can't hear yourself.

"Jackson —"

It all happens so fast, blood spilling down your legs, Jackson screaming your name, your knees crippling.

Jackson is sure he's never moved so fast in his entire life. He grabs the bags by your bedroom door, his phone in hand while the other keeps you steady as he guides you to the passenger seat.

He's driving above the speed limit and he's thanking God that there's barely any cars on the road tonight.

"Just breathe, baby," he reaches over the console to hold your hand, half of him expects you to swat him away and curse him out for being practically the worst partner in the world, but you take his hand without hesitancy, with no traces of bitterness and resentment evident on your face. You take his hand and bring it to your lips.

He gets you to the hospital in ten minutes tops. He's rushing you to the emergency room, a trail of blood following you wherever you go.

There a group of doctors and nurses that rush to get you on a wheelchair, and Jackson can only watch as you yelp in pain. As they whisk you away, Jackson has flashbacks of the last time this had happened.

Everything was different back then, the two of you were nervous, sure, but you were ecstatic none the less. Jackson had the nursery all planned out, the baby's name, he even thought of who the baby would look like the most and of course, he said the baby would look like him. Then when the time finally came, and you pushed for the last time, no cry could be heard, just panicked mumbling and shouts to get the baby into another room.

You never got the chance to see your baby before it breathed it's last breath, you just watched helplessly as they rushed to resuscitate it.

Jackson's scared that history might repeat itself. So, as he waits for nearly eight hours with his head between his knees, praying to every and any god out there to bless him.

The sky is still dark outside and there are no stars to be found when they finally call him in to the room. There's a small smile on the nurse's face, but that does nothing to stop the rapid beating of Jackson's heart, or the profuse sweating of his hands. He's worried, overthinking things until his head spins and he can't breath properly.

Then as the doors open, and he spots you on a hospital bed, a bundle of white in your arms, he turns into a blubbering mess.

Jackson is careful while he gathers you in his arms, finally at peace with himself and the universe as he stares at his daughter. "My princess," he whispers.

He kisses you softly on your temple, and smiles against your skin. "I think she looks a lot like me, right?" He jokes, and you're surprised you find energy to even laugh a little.

"Jackson-ah," you whine.

Jackson kisses your forehead again, and chuckles. "I'm kidding, baby." he says. "She looks a lot like you."

You frown. "It hasn't even been an hour Jackson, she still looks like a potato."

[fancy--tuna]

College Update

So I’m phenomenally excited to be going back to the place where I can make my dreams come true. The ability to return to Miami this fall and see my favorite professor, by new, best friends, and such a breathtaking campus is incredibly thrilling to me. I’ll be going back home -- with a new and reinvigorated passion for what I want to do, and a desire to do it well. Every day I take another step toward the career I want, and towards expressing my love with the world.

Unfortunately, I have one single thing that has been caging that voice -- not merely caging it, but smothering it, blocking it from ever seeing the sun until it dies from choking on the void it’s encompassed in. 

My room situation last year was about the same as everyone’s. I was in a double with a randomly-assigned roommate, Peyton, who I got along with alright, more or less. We were two different people -- she an extrovert and I an introvert -- so we didn’t do anything together -- not even a lunch. However, I never had a problem with her.

Yet, as time kept going on, I grew increasingly uncomfortable being in my own room. I felt bad being on my laptop -- like I was being judged -- and when I went to bed I felt gross, as if Peyton was disgusted with me and never said anything. However, because she never said anything, I figured it was my own paranoia and life went on.

Right as the first semester ended, Peyton told me her buddy down the hall had a vacancy (their horrible roommate moved out), and she was going to move in. I was excited for her to be with someone she liked and I was excited for myself, to be in my own space. Peyton and I would have gotten along quite well, if we’d made the effort -- she was a big fan of Baseball and animals, and her Snapchat story always looked fun and inviting. She was pretty and had a good smile. I regret not investing more into our friendship, but it was a lesson learned.

Winter break passed and I was in a room by myself (I was assigned a roommate over break, but she never showed up). I loved living alone -- I had a space that was mine, where I could listen to my music and laugh at my movies and talk to my friends. I hadn’t had a space like that on campus. I could go to sleep when I chose and I could cry if I needed to vent. I was even able to get into Mythic Raiding with a single, seeing as the Australian times were from 4-7AM, and there was no way I could do that with a roommate. All awkwardness I felt on this campus vanished, and I was really beginning to excel in my schoolwork and make friends on campus. Truly, I realized, Miami was the campus for me -- and my lifestyle, in a single, was perfect. Nothing could go wrong.

Then Jessica moved in.

I received the email the day of Jessica’s move-in, which I thought was unsettling and a little bit out of left-field. However, when I asked the Residence Advisor about it, it made sense: he was told that Jessica had to move on an ‘emergency situation’, and that there was no way she was going to be in a livable space in her own dorm. I empathized and felt bad for her -- I knew what it was like to be in a space where a person didn’t feel welcome. I was also told that the situation had something to do with drinking, which struck a chord with me. My mother was a severe alcoholic, so I knew what it was like to have to live with someone like that. I made it my life purpose to make sure Jessica’s move-in was peaceful and quiet, and she was at home here in 209.

She moved in that evening rather awkwardly, showing up with a friend, dropping a neon pink-and-green Vera Wang tote, and saying “This is my friend, we’re gonna go back to her place to watch Real Housewives of Miami” and left without really much introduction beyond that. I remember calling my dad after she left to tell him she’d moved in, and joking that we weren’t going to get along -- anyone with a Vera Wang bag tended to be a bit preppy, which isn’t me. However, I swore I was going to make it work, and I resolved to put my judgments aside and really get to know Jessica.

She returned that evening and we sat and talked for awhile, making progress. I learned that she had had a very difficult time at Miami. She told me about how her roommate was an alcoholic, and how she’d come home at 2AM and flick on the lights whether or not she was sleeping. She told me how her roommate would bring over drunk friends and cause a ruckus while shew as trying to work. I felt horrible -- and told her quite clearly, “This is a safe space.” I wanted her to feel welcome and she seemed glad to hear it. We went to bed and I felt like, this could work. This wasn’t going to be so bad after all.

As winter progressed into spring I learned more about Jessica’s time at Miami. From what I heard, it sounded like her time had been pretty rough. Her roommate situation was bad, and her RA didn’t seem to want to help her. They didn’t have quiet time or anything like that in the halls after hours, and the RAs wouldn’t listen. She wanted a single, but when she applied they wouldn’t give it to her because she didn’t have a medical condition. She went to see the therapists on-campus, and they said they wouldn’t help her the way she wanted to be helped. She had a rough schedule and it was tearing her up. She said that 70% of the people on campus were preppy and rude, and she was so glad I wasn’t that way. She was done trying at Miami -- and after this semester she wanted to go home, and go to school in her home state, Maryland.

I sympathized and I listened and I understood. I felt bad that her time on campus had been so horrible, and I was determined to make her final semester here more bearable. I told her if I could help in any way, she should let me know.

About four weeks into our living situation, Jessica asked me politely if I would be willing to end online calls at about 10:30, as that was when she went to sleep. It was a gentle and understandable request, and the calls ended promptly. A week later, she asked me to turn off my reading light at 10:30, because it kept her up. I did as she obliged.

Then a week later, she asked me to stop typing at 10:30, because the key-clicking kept her up. I was frustrated, as there was nothing I could do at 10:30 in my room without audio, a light, or a laptop, but I obliged, knowing how she needed her sleep.

Things began to go downhill. I had noticed a change in Jessica over the first few weeks -- she had stopped going out to see friends and go swimming. In fact, she’d stopped going out at all -- she went to class, came back to her room, and laid on her bed, flipped open her laptop, and turned on Real Housewives, pulling a bag of chips from her bed or a tub of ice cream from the minifridge. I had those days too, so I gave her the benefit of the doubt, but eventually it turned into a daily habit that I didn’t even question anymore. the 50/50 split of our rooms became obvious -- while I kept my side of the room as clean and neat as possible, hers was piled up with clothes and trash. I loved taking pictures of my plants in the windowsill, but her desk was unseeable due to the pile of laundry. I crawled into my clean blankets easily at night, and when i woke up she had left dirty underwear on her bed, making it embarrassing for me to bring anyone over that day.

However, I didn’t complain at all. I understood she was dealing with depression from the way Miami was treating her, and I let it go.

One day Jessica asked me if I could stop watching movies on my phone at night with earbuds -- “the light keeps me up”, she said -- and I had just about had it. She had taken away any privelage I had of being in my room after 10:30 at night. However, instead of telling her that, I did something very stupid:

“Yeah, no worries -- I’ll take it into the livingroom downstairs”.

From that moment on, she’d won. That room had inevitably been conquered by Jessica and I had no right to be in it. The instant I would wake up, I’d grab my clothes, my backpack, and I’d leave. I’d change and do my makeup in the bathroom, and because I didn’t want to bother her I’d carry around my pajamas and makeup in my backpack all day as I went to my classes. I only had, at maximum, three hours of class on any given day -- but when I was done, I wouldn’t go back to my room. Every time I did, Jessica would be in bed, watching Housewives, and the instant I walked in she’d pause her show and stare at me until I left. Oftentimes I felt so bad I had to excuse myself -- “just grabbing an umbrella, it’s raining” -- “I left my phone charger here” -- and she’d watch and wait until I left to go back to whatever she was doing. I was an outsider in my own room -- I was not allowed in.

I learned a lot about Miami from being cast out of my room. I learned where the food is cheap and what classes took place in what rooms when. I learned about the buildings, and how long a walk from my room to another room took, and I learned what buildings I could pass through to get home when it rained. I learned the way to get into buildings that were locked at night, so I could cry in an empty classroom instead of in my room.

I spent a lot of time in the gaming library, which is where I took two classes with my favorite professor, Phill, and a few new friends from the IMS major. Grace, a Junior in the major, was an absolute joy. She was around a lot, working on this project or that, or playing DnD with Phill. She loved Moana and Blizzard, and she was loud and tomboyish. Grace listened to my problems a lot, and she was supportive in that way that kind of scares you -- I recall one day I was telling her about how I never went into my dorm and she got on the table and started shouting at me about how I deserved better. The day Grace said I was her friend was one of the best days I had on campus. She began opening up her room to me when I needed it. I was so thankful I stayed over once, but I was so afraid of mooching I never stayed over again.

The year was beginning to draw to a close, and I had 11 projects on my plate. I began to wake up at 8, leave the room immediately, and I wouldn’t be back home until 2 or 3AM. Not because I was working the whole time -- because I wanted to make sure Jessica was asleep before I got in, so I didn’t disturb her. I got a lot of work done while I was out of the dorm -- I think that was one of the better things that came out of this. If it weren’t for being cast out of my own room, I wouldn’t have spent so much time working. I’d spend 8 hours a day sculpting or writing html before I walked into my hall and prepped myself for bed -- unzip everything I needed to unzip before walking in, take off my shoes first so they weren’t loud, leave anything wet outside so it didn’t make a sound, remove jackets and backpack so I didn’t have to make noise when I got in, make sure I pulled my charger for my phone and laptop out beforehand so I didn’t have to go into my backpack. When that was all done, I’d sit in the hall for three or four minutes to muster the courage to slip through the door, make sure it closed quietly, then drop my stuff off and hop into bed. If I forgot a step, I wouldn’t do that step. Then I’d wake up at 8 and do it all over again.

I contacted my RA multiple times to mention that I wasn’t comfortable in my living space. CC was a joy -- she was so sweet and concerned. She asked if any intervening needed to happen, and I always told her, no, it’s just eight more weeks. it’s just six more weeks. Four more weeks. Two. CC finally mentioned to me that Jessica and I hadn’t filled out our roommate agreement form -- a general form that every roommate fills out with guidelines about how to live with eachother, what the general guidelines were, and how each roommate lived. She suggested we fill ours out together, and try to set some guidelines to make my life easier in the room.

That evening I went home early to discuss this with Jessica. She seemed to understand the idea and agreed to us filling it out together. Yet, as I went through the questions, there was little to no compromise. I recall distinctly a situation in which I asked Jessica if we could push bedtime on weekends back -- it’d always been lights-out at 10:30PM, even on Fridays and Saturdays, and I suggested we push it back to 11 -- and she was firm in her bedtime. Exhausted, I just accepted what had always been -- no bedtime push, no music, no friends. I noted that she was a light sleeper and made suggestions to help her with that -- earplugs, sleep medication. All I got in return, however, were excuses: “Well, I get these really bad ear infections, and sleeping with earplugs...” “I mean, I’ve tried sleep medication, and it’s never...” I didn’t have the willpower to debate her on this and accepted it for what it was.

At this point living this way was the norm. However, it had drawbacks: I was suffering from a lack of sleep and an excess of work, and the anxiety of not having a place that was mine was getting to me. I was beginning to have breakdowns in empty classrooms, since I couldn’t cry anywhere else. Every weekend my parents had to bring me home because I was crying so much when I called them. I was losing drive and pushing too hard to maintain it -- whereas my roommate seemed to care less about her drive. One day it was raining and I decided to muster up the courage to return to my dorm for an umbrella after multiple friends encouraged me to do so.

I had my hand on the doorknob when I heard Jessica speaking -- she was on the phone with someone. Horrified of disturbing them, I instead sat in the hall and attempted to get the guts to open the door for about ten minutes. During those ten minutes, I happened to catch bits and pieces of their conversation -- Jessica was complaining that the process of applying to her new college was horrible and they weren’t helping. Her mother (who was on speaker) mentioned it was likely because of her grades -- I was shocked to discover Jessica was failing most of her classes. She excused it by saying the classes were hard and she was depressed, and it didn’t matter anyways since she was going somewhere else. Knowing how delicate a situation this was, I decided I was brave the weather without an umbrella and left, feeling conflicted. I felt bad for her, since I knew how difficult the application process was, and I couldn’t imagine what it must have been like to apply to a new school from another, better school. I also knew that depression could, indeed, affect one’s motivation to do schoolwork. I hoped internally that she could pick it up and get the grades she needed by the end of the semester.

Finals Week was a week early for me. In my major, most if not all of my finals were project-based, meaning we turned them in the week before final exams and did not take an exam on the given day. We were free to go the Friday before exams week. I was thrilled -- I had B’s and low A’s across the baord, and all of my final projects were looking phenomenal. I’d spent time after classes with all of my professors going over my work and getting help, and they assured me that these turn-ins would give me A’s in each of their respective classes (with a B+ in Web Programming -- I hated Javascript.) being out of my dorm so much had given me the push to get extra help where normally I’m too scared to do so, afraid I’m wasting a professor’s time. I was proud of my work and proud of my year.

The last Monday of classes I decided I was beat and I wanted to get a well-deserved nap. I debated between going and not-going, and finally I decided to head back to my room for a bit. It was my last week, after all -- if Jessica had a problem with it she could deal. As always, I returned to my room (though this time midday) and needed to muster up the courage to enter. I sat in the hallway and waited.

Again I heard Jessica on the phone, and knew better than to enter while she spoke. I waited politely for the call to end -- then began hearing some of the conversation. 

“...Just disgusting, I don’t want to deal with it! What am I supposed to do with her nasty-ass stuff?” “Honey, it was probably an accident, has she done this before?” “No, but she puts her horrible plant on my desk and it’s like, it’s not mine! I have half a mind to throw it out...”

I realized horribly that I’d left my plant that I was going to water today on her desk when I left the room. Her horrible words shook me to the core as I listened, mortified.

“No, mom, I’m not going to talk to her, she comes home at weird hours, and it’s not like she cares! She makes these horrible messes, T-shirts covered in nasty hair, it’s fucking disgusting.”

I don’t remember at what point I got up, but I ran into the staircase and just started bawling. I didn’t deserve this. She was lying. She was outright lying. I wasn’t in that room enough to cause any mess, and I was a clean person to begin with. I didn’t understand how this could have happened to me when all I did was for her, when I spent eight weeks practically homeless so she could sit in there and watch her TV show and eat and be unproductive? It was just a plant. I remember calling my mother and repeating that, as if something within me had snapped. “It was just a plant, it was just a plant.” Something within me had snapped; I had been lying in the mud so she wouldn’t have to walk in it, and she was still complaining that I was uncomfortable to walk on. My mother had had enough, and she was coming to get me for the week. By the time she arrived, I had three RA’s surrounding me trying to console me, and she had walked into my room unannounced, grabbed the plant Jessica was so concerned about, and plucked me up to take me home. I didn’t want to go to my mom’s house -- but it was better than Miami.

By the time I had sobered up, one thing had become clear to me: I had done nothing wrong. I had done everything that could’ve been asked of me. It wasn’t my fault. It occurred to me that the entirety of Jessica’s personality, that I had grasped, was complaining. She was mad at the world and she was going to blame everyone else for it. She didn’t get a single so she blamed the therapists, she didn’t get good grades so she blamed the classes, she didn’t have any friends so she blamed the people. She didn’t like herself -- so she blamed me. In fact, the more I thought about it, the more I was certain her old roommate was likely a fine roommate. The words I’d caught her using to describe me were so similar to the way she had described her other roommate that I was certain Jessica, in all likelihood, was the only one with the problem -- wherever she was, she couldn’t be happy, and she’d make everyone else bend to fix it. I had been the victim of this one horrible woman, and it had ruined my time at Miami and made me horrified of the future.

Despite knowing that Jessica was a bitch? Living like that still affects me to this day. All summer I had my best friend over to spend time, or the night; and no matter how much I tried and how long I tossed and turned, I couldn’t sleep; in my mind, being in the room with her was equivalent to being a bother. I’d sleep in another room, or wait until someone else got up to sleep in their room, or I’d even sleep on the decaying couch in the livingroom without pillow or blanket -- anything but sleeping where people I care about would be bothered by me. I requested any single I could get back in April, and I’ve doubled and tripled those requests since then. I now have 7 requests for any single I can get on campus -- but those requests won’t be granted without medical documentation.

I know I have anxiety -- that’s a given at this point. The problem is having medical documentation. I haven’t seen a doctor all summer -- in fact, I haven’t seen a doctor in years. The last time I can recall seeing I doctor, I was about 8 years old. Under my dad’s roof, as long as it’s not broken you don’t need to see a doctor. we got through Strep Throat without antibiotics, we’d get through colds and flus without help, and anything mental was absolutely not a medical condition. I’ve gotten into multiple, loud arguments with my father begging him to take me to a doctor -- all were in vain.

I’m well old enough to take myself to a doctor -- but I’m horrified of the prospect. I don’t know how to pay for it, when to do it, how I’ll get a hold of a car, what to do if I can’t find transportation. I don’t even know where a doctor is or how to find one or who to go to. I’ve asked my sister for her information and she hasn’t given it to me, I’ve pleaded with my mom to help and she hasn’t, I’ve begged my friends to help me with it and they’ve managed to skirt the situation, and I’ve argued with my father until I was in tears, asking him to please, please help me. Nothing.

But until I get this documentation, I can’t get a single. Until a doctor says I have anxiety, I’ll be in a situation which furthers my anxiety. I won’t be able to eat, sleep, or breathe in my own room because of a fear of bothering my roommate.

Today was a better day. I got up and decided I was going to call my roommate for next year -- I knew her, but not well -- and see if we could get together, have lunch, and talk about school. Calling anyone is a feat of mine -- and it was my biggest activity for the day. I left a voicemail with her and sent her a text.

I got information back today that Sarah had been moved out of my room -- I don’t know where, I didn’t ask. Now, I only know two things: she’s not there and I am. I’m currently in a double in the same residence hall as last year without a roommate. The likelihood is that I’m going to be paired with a random roommate, like I was twice last year -- and I’m so horrified that when I said goodbye to Sarah, I broke down. I can’t do it. I can’t be in that situation again. I’m so scared of being in a room with someone and upsetting them. I can’t do it.

I love Miami, but I’m horrified to return.