#like???? start a chamber in the middle of a circle of babies

[gold-rhine]

very easy abyss this time, cleared first try even on my f2p without having to adjust teams. they are so evil for making us fight actual babies tho.

[hopefulidiocy]

Your Aemond

Prince!Aemond x Fem!Reader

Warnings: fingering, rubbing, choking, praise kink, gagging, p in v.

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT‼️ 18+ ONLY‼️

Context; you’re stressed and Aemond is SOFT for you, he loves you more than anything so he helps you relax.

~

You came into your chambers, slumping down on your king sized bed, your face hiding in the silk sheets as you tried to suppress your screaming. Everything had annoyed you today from something as simple as a spelling mistake to a full blown argument with Otto Hightower. You had enough, you couldn’t handle it for any longer with boiling over and exploding. Tears streamed down your face, painting your sheets as you basically wailed into the fabric, beating the soft mattress with your small fist. A low whistle came from behind you, causing you to snap around with blurry eyes. Your betrothed, Prince Aemond stood behind you, taking off his leather gloves and throwing them on the night stand. His face a mixture of stoicism and curiosity.

“Bad day?” The comedic timing was something else and it instantly had you smiling, your tears still running but at least you had some positivity in the day. He was smirking at your smile, his reached forward, gripping your chin in between his thumb and index finger. “What’s wrong, baby?”

“Otto.” You embarrassingly started crying again, his grip tightened, telling you telepathically to keep going. “He’s giving me all these jobs that I can’t handle by myself, since Dayna left, they are yet to find another maid for the children and now it’s down to me to help them. I know I’m just a mere girl and I have no authority here besides being your betrothed but it’s way too much, I don’t know what to do or say to anyone anymore.” His thumb stroked the tears away, his eye full of comfort. You sighed into his hand as he stopped wiping the tears and cupped your left cheek.

“Thank you for telling me.” He whispered, planting a soft kiss on your forehead. “I’ll talk with him tomorrow but for now, I want to help you out.” His left arm slid under your legs and his right around your middle, you were suspended in the air and you wrapped your arms around his neck, resting your head on his shoulder. He settled you down between his legs on the bed, his back up against the headboard, your back resting in his chest and your head comfortable on his shoulder. “Relax for me, princess.” Slowly, he hitched your skirts around your waist, his hand roaming around your inner thighs and traced small circles on your soft skin. You sighed just from the relaxation, your eyes closed as his hard fingers slowly made their way towards your heat. Just the mere touch of your betrothed made you weak at the knees, the way his hands moved like he was playing an instrument every time he touched you; sexual or not. He treated you like a prized possession and you were the only person who could make him so soft. His hands switched out your underclothes to reveal your glistening pussy, the one that made him treat you like a toy one night and his goddess the next. His long fingers teased around your folds, his breathing deep as he pressed his lips towards your temple; he got just as much pleasure from seeing you moan and squirm under his touch than from you bobbing your head up and down between his thighs.

“Baby, relax for me.” He whispered so softly it was hardly audible. You relaxed, your shoulders softening as you melted your body into his; once you relaxed, his middle finger played with your precious clit. You let out a breathy moan, your eyes heavy as his hand perfectly treated your pussy.

“Aemond.” You whispered, breathy and a slight whine. He kissed your temple.

“You should be proud of yourself for what you’ve been doing, my love. You are so good. So precious.” His hand sped up. “Let me treat you, let me show how well you’re doing.” Your juices wet the tips of his fingers as he works you, your back arched upwards and moaned as your eyes rolled to the back of your head. You contracted as he slid in two fingers, curling them and rubbing them against your g spot, your legs tensed slightly as he stroked your g spot; not letting you have a moment to breathe as his other hand came around your waist and pressed down on your abdomen making you moan loudly at the increased intense feeling.

“God, Aemond… it feels so fucking good.” You whined, turning your head and attaching your lips to his neck. Using your teeth, you managed a small hickey and he grunted with the slight pain you gave him but it definitely got him harder.

“You’re doing so well, baby.” He felt your squeeze around his fingers as your legs kicked out with quick, intense energy that rippled from your core and ignited your body with thousands of little lights. Your eyes glazed over, a small tear leaking out the side of your eye as you shake in his arms. He smiled against your head.

“Let it go baby girl. Let it go. Show me. Show me how good I can work that beautiful pussy.” He purred, pressing harder on your abdomen whilst his fingers work faster. Your entire body trembled as your orgasm washed over you, making you a dazed mess in his strong arms. He pulled his fingers from you, beckoning your mouth open as he stuck them down your throat. Your head thrown back, his eye looking rougher, as he forces his fingers to tickle your gag reflex. “You taste good, don’t you?” He asked, but your mouth was too full so you didn’t reply, just looked at him with welled up eyes. He slapped you harshly. “Answer me.”

“Yes.” You sounded muffled and a bit like you had a lost voice as his fingers were still in your throat. He pulled them out when he was satisfied. Harshly, he grabbed your throat and pushing you face down on the bed, once you had your ass in the air, he removed his breeches and smacked your ass as hard as can be, you yelled out. You heard his cock spring out of his breeches, slapping his belly button as he pulled it down and pumped it whilst looking at your perfect ass waiting for him. He loved the sight of you, trembling with your legs wide open for him. He knew you had to accommodate for his length and thickness, so he slowly stretched out your pussy with his cock. You groaned as your pussy ached, filling up with his perfect cock, the only one for you and the only one that could make you feel so lewd. He stilled, feeling your walls make room for him.

“Fuck yourself on my cock. You’ve earned it.” He said, his voice dripping with seduction. You loved it when he let you fuck yourself because you could go at any pace but usually he just grabs your hips and fucks you at an inhumane pace. Slowly, you picked up your upper body on your elbows, your hair falling over your face as you rocked back, letting his tip massage your g spot; no matter how fucked you were, you would always welcome this feeling. You rocked forward, your legs doing most of the work as you groaned out in bliss; his cock treating you so well. You started bouncing on his length harder and faster, working yourself towards your end. He watched as your tight pussy clung to his cock and the way it looked got him even harder as the noises of sex filled the room. He loved this image, the one of you fucking yourself with his hard cock. He relished in the feeling of your heat, the way you squeezed around him and suddenly he felt he couldn’t hold on any longer so he grabbed your hips; stopping you in your tracks, a little mess beneath him. You groaned from the lack of power over this as his fingers bruised your hips, you were being rocked hard against him, your ass hitting his abdomen as he fucked you with little to no mercy. He grunted each time your bodies slapped together, you whined with satisfaction as you saw stars come into your vision, your head full of nothing but sex and stars as you ready yourself for a big orgasm. You started trembling again, the biggest sign that you were going to have an overwhelming climax, and you gripped the sheets you were hitting your fist with earlier as you released your juices onto him, gushing everything as he slowed down his pace. You moaned loudly as he released himself inside of you, painting a masterpiece in his favourite place. He pulled out, you ached at the cold and the lack of his cock. He swiftly picked you up, your legs hanging over his arms and your arms wrapped around his neck as he kissed your head, taking you to the bathroom.

“Well done, baby.” He stroked your hair as he filled the tub with warm water, he caressed your cheek as he cupped the water over your bruised thighs. You sank in the heat, letting yourself relax; ignoring the aching between your legs. Grateful for the stress relief and for him. Your Aemond.

[fountainpenguin]

"And you'd hate me too if I was ever honest- I got used to the secrecy! It's safer in the In-Between…" (x)

---

New Dog's Life chapter today! ~ 3rd Life series fan-season

Chapter 34 - “Ashes (Ren, Sniff)”

❤️ Read on AO3

💛 Start from Chapter 1

💚 More Pixels Imperfect fics

"Oh, I'm so selfish; punish myself with the soul-crushing knowledge I willingly lost it... Know I'll regret it and die just a little- it's what I do best sitting right in the middle..."

---

Ren washes Debbie the Slime Dragon in exchange for a ride to Phantom Dragon territory (to rescue Martyn). PiglinMyNose bottle-feeds baby foxes. Also, SnifferMyFeet says good-bye to Etho and heads out on his own.

AKA, the one where Sniff sets boundaries and everything will be okay.

(First 1,000 words under the cut)

---

Mild content warning for baby slimes suckling from mama dragon

---

Renthedog - Wolf (Tamed)

Status: Flattery turned up to 11

Engineer, neurobiology teacher, and conservationist

💙  🧡  💚

It's with a grand flourish that Ren strolls through the hollow beneath the massive, twisting roots of the Slime Dragon's custom tree. Funny place. There's straw all over the dirt and slime dripping from the tree branches. Slimes don't take up space… That's one thing you can say about them. They ooze, collect, dissolve, and pull themselves together again. With all that surface area, it's a wonder they don't lag the place out. Ren thrusts his arms in the air, tail beating back and forth as he struts straight into the center chamber.

"And how are the two most gorgeous ladies in New Star tonight? … Wait a moment. Where's Charlotte?"

Then he has to duck as Debbie's tail nearly clips him on the head. She's resting on her side, glaze-eyed, with her paws flopped in front of her. Ren scampers forward in the straw, moving out of easy swatting range, and gets a full look at her belly. She's not a long dragon, but one of the bigger, rounder ones. Chunky would probably be the correct word - the way that slimes are thick and chunky - but perhaps not the most polite. Black scales cover her nose, legs, and sides (running all the way to the tip of her tail), but the ruff that circles her neck and runs down her spine gleams with blue and green goop.

The last section of her tail is purple-pink, as are a few massive talons. Belly's goopy too. Ren's hung around Debbie often enough that he no longer jumps when dark splots (vague eyeballs) drift through her slimy bits and study him from the safety of their mother's membrane. A few slimes rest around the area - mobs and hybrids alike; one of the mobs hops forward and nuzzles his foot - but Ren does his best not to stare. Even when he can feel eyes burning on the back of his neck. Hybrids watch him from the branches. Not everyone plays the turf war games.

Debbie whuffs through her nostrils, but doesn't offer a straight answer for the Charlotte question. Her tail swings up like before. Again, Ren sidesteps and leans his head far enough to the side that it grazes harmlessly above. It swings its way back around, this time lower, but he hop-steps without looking. Debbie's got patterns. All dragons do. Ren moves past her hind paws, which lie half-curled in the dirt. They flex.

Ah, there's her belly. Hungry newborn mouths push against her, and Ren lifts his brows. Spawnlings still too young to lose their lens caps push each other with their hands, blindly crawling and whining with their gaping, muted mouths for places to suck. Debbie's a special case- she doesn't really, like… have teats? Just that slimy stuff, so they can put their mouths anywhere.

But here's the weird part. Slimes aren't the only babies under the tree tonight, and Ren's eyes go narrow as he takes in the invasive species. Foxes - little brown newborns with pink mouths - whine and wiggle in front of a hybrid sitting near Debbie's armpit. Do dragons have armpits? She kind of does, speckled with more clumps of goo.

"Right- one at a time, you- you precious gifts, you angels- OW! One at a time," the hybrid is saying. Ren recognizes him instantly, though he's not had a lot of conversations with the man. Several large buckets of milk sit beside him; he's filling a goat horn cup that drips out its narrow bottom end. Did he just have that nanny outfit on hand?

"PiglinMyNose! I shouldn't be surprised to find you serving your dear mother in her time of need." Ren glances again at the resting dragon. Debbie never did give him verbal acknowledgement. She must be a little hazy right now, maybe drained from the nursing effort. He walks closer, every step careful. He likes to think he befriended Debbie long ago, but you should never let your guard down around dragons. They could bite at any time.

She is letting him get close, though. Ren bends to pick up a spawnling that's facing the wrong direction, bracing itself on one hand and sucking on its other fist. New arrivals are bigger on a server, fed by actual player energy, but in this dimension, they're all too young for skins. Or walking. Gotta put some girth on, y'know?

He doesn't dare lift the spawnling to his shoulder, but Lizzie taught him how to move them without upsetting dragons. He keeps the spawnling near the ground, taking slow steps, and sets it down by the lower part of Debbie's belly, near the hind legs. D'you think Debbie works like mammal dragons, where the teats closer to the rear provide the most milk? Hm.

Pig yips again as another fox bites him. They all want their turn licking drips from the goat horn cup. Some kits have milk-dotted mouths. Others are still bare. Ren kneels beside him, less careful lifting fox mobs from his lap than he was with the skinless slime hybrid. "Yeah, yeah," Pig mutters. "I got chased out of the turf war, so I'm babysitting now."

"Where's Charlotte?"

"Think she went to bother Scott?" Gesturing at the milk, he adds, "Like- I think she said something about not producing enough milk because of the raid? Is that how it works?"

"Oh, she can't den down." Yes, that would be a problem. He asked Etho about this once- a research project for his Education back in the early days. Something like… "I think when foxes breed in the wild, they stay in the den with the kit until it's an adult. That probably means they gather berries before they den down? Maybe Charlotte couldn't find enough food."

"Well, they like milk," Pig remarks, lifting a squirmy kit in his hand. He rotates it like a fruit he's about to eat, then brings the goat horn cup to its mouth. The kit laps at the tip, catching all the milk it can, while the other two dozen or so kits keep nipping or swatting at each other, or else crawling over him. Two are chewing on his apron. Three dozen? Maybe more. "Ow! Yeah, yeah… You'll all get your turn. But you're not endearing yourselves to me. I don't care how cute you are- you make me sick."

[Full chapter on AO3 - Link at top]

[scarletwinterxx]

the way i love you - jeno imagine

a very very quick cute scenario😊 i’m so busy w work right now so i can’t post that often, but a few stories are already on my drafts i just need to finish them 😅😅😅

For my other works you can check them out here, and for my other story series’ you can check them out here.

All works are copyrighted ©scarletwinterxx 2021 . Do not repost, re-write without the permission of author.

“Hey Jen”

“Yes, babe?”

“I need you to break up with me” 

Before, your boyfriend’s focus was on his game but upon hearing your words he halted his movements and slowly turned to look at you sitting on his bed, blinking back at him like what you said was totally normal

“Come again? Did you just say I need to break up with you?” you nodded at his question, a thousand scenarios running in his head as to why you would say this. 

“Did I- Was there something I did? Are we fighting? Are you mad at me?” bursting out in giggles because of his confused expression, you pushed yourself off of his bed and stride to where he was sitting. Plopping yourself on his lap, Jeno’s strong arms immediately circling around your waist

“No”

“Was it because I took the last piece of chicken last night?”

“What? No” you chuckle, ruffling his hair with your fingers

“Do you really want to break up with me?”

“Oh my god, baby no. I was kidding! I just saw this tiktok vid where a girl asked her boyfriend to break up with her so she could feel relate more to Taylor, she’s re-released her album”

Jeno just shot you an unimpressed look before tickling you on the side, “You had me worried for a second there”

“I was kidding! I would never break up with you” you say in between laughs, trashing around on his lap while he continues on with his attacks

“Like I would ever give you a reason to, I love you way too much” you smile at his words, feeling all the butterflies in your stomach flutter away. You did hit the jackpot with this guy,

“Not as much as I love you” 

“Don’t make this a competition, because I will win” that you do know, if there’s one thing Jeno knows best that is how to love you. It’s like he’s made it his life mission to always make you feel loved, every second of every day as long as you’re with him. And he’s rightfully done so ever since you started dating. 

“I have long accepted the fact that I’ll always be second to Jaemin” you joked, whenever Jeno says you’re his whole heart you always retort back saying you’re the right chamber while Jaemin is the left one.  

“You sure? I think Jisung is catching up now. I’m probably only third on your list now” you tease him some more, the latter shaking his head at you. Hiding his face on your neck, cuddling you closer to him

“It’s okay, you’re still number one on my long list of lovers”

“What list? there’s a list?!” again, you laughed at his reaction. This time you’re the one to hug him tighter, “Just kidding, you big baby”

“You and your Taylor Swift references”

“Since we’re already on that topic, just know there’s no one I’d dance in the refrigerator light with but you” kissing both of his cheeks, earning that adorable eye smile from your favorite boy. 

“I mean I did get you a necklace with my initials on it” he smiles while running his fingers on the metal letters resting on the middle of your chest, a birthday gift from him to you. “Not because you own me” “But because I know you, yea yea I’ve heard it” you smile proudly at him for getting the reference this time

“That’s my boy, now let’s cuddle and listen to Taylor”

[greymoonfeelings]

Fireside Lovin’

12 Days of Christmas: Day 2

pairing: Rick Flag x Fem! Reader

word count: 1.3k

summary: Nothing says hot like a roaring fire and your teasing boyfriend.

warnings: fingering, kinda dom/sub dynamics

note: thanks to @a-reader-and-a-writer for beta reading, I personally didn’t read over it very much lol so hopefully it’s not too bad. The text from the book is in bold. I'm terrible with punctuation, but I’m trying my best so deal with it.

tags: @reysorigins

~~~

It’s Sunday morning. You and Rick are cuddled up by the fireplace, spending some quality quiet time together. You’re laying in his arms, legs stretched out across the couch, reading out loud to him.

His hands have been mindlessly wandering your body for the past 5 minutes. He started by rubbing your arm, then moved to tracing random patterns on the side of your thigh. It didn’t bother you until his hand started to wander elsewhere. That was when you realized that his actions may not have been so mindless after all.

His large calloused hands caress both your thighs. The feeling of his warm hands pressed against your bare skin so close to your pussy sends a wave of arousal through you. It was as if Rick could tell how his innocent touch was making you feel because his fingers began to inch inwards towards your pussy.

“What are you doing, Rick?”

He doesn’t answer. Instead, his left hand moves the fabric of your sleep shorts aside, allowing his other hand to dive beneath the fabric.

He runs his fingertips over your clothed sex. You hear him let out a groan when he runs over the wet patch of your panties. As he moves his fingers down farther you can feel his boner rising between your thighs.

“Wuthering Heights is really turning you on this much?” You tease breathlessly.

“Could ask you the same thing, Darlin.” He smirks against the side of your neck, pressing a kiss to your pulse point as his hand pulls aside your panties.

One hand holds the fabric out of the way as the other finds your slick cunt. His ring finger circles your entrance, gathering your slick before he spreads it through your folds and up to your clit. He starts to slowly rub, pull and play with your sensitive bud, causing you to buck your hips back. His other fingers creep towards your entrance once again, stroking the space between your thighs.

You try to ignore his ministrations by continuing to read. “After playing lady’s maid to the newcomer, and putting my cakes in the oven and making the house and kitchen cheerful with great fires befitting Christmas Eve, I prepared to sit down—“

Rick breathes heavily against your neck as he pushes his middle finger into your heat causing you to yelp at his sudden intrusion. After the initial shock, you moan as Rick’s finger slowly pumps in and out of you.

You throw your head back against his shoulder letting the book fall into your lap as you try to enjoy his movements, but you don’t get the chance to revel in it for too long. As soon as Rick notices you’ve tossed the book aside, he pulls out his finger.

“Who said you could stop reading?” He growls in your ear.

“But…” Your words come out as a pathetic whine.

“But what? Do you want me to make you feel good?”

You nod in response.

“Words, baby.” Rick gives you a stern look.

“Yes.”

“Then you gotta keep readin’.” You let out a shaky breath before picking the book back up and attempting to refocus on the page.

Once you find your place you begin reading again. As soon as you say the first word you feel Rick’s finger re-enter you.

“I prepared to sit down and amuse myself by singing carols all along,” You gulp. “I mean alone. Singing carols all alone; regardless of Joseph's affirmations that he considered the merry tunes I chose as next door to smog. Fuck, I mean songs.”

Rick chuckles at the way you stumble over your words as he begins to fuck you with his middle finger. He sets a steady pace, watching as you squirm slightly in his arms.

“He had retired to private prayer in his chamber…”

As you begin the next paragraph, Rick adds his ring finger, using it to stretch open your tight pussy. He begins to fuck you with his fingers hard and fast, plunging them into your warm core. He notices that your voice is beginning to sound quieter over the sound of your squelching pussy.

Rick temporarily stops, “Speak up, I can’t hear the story.”

He smirks at the flustered look that crosses your face. Your eyebrows knit together in frustration at his teasing.

You swallow hard, attempting to clear your throat so you can read at a volume that would please him enough to continue fingering you.

“They had invited them to spend the morrow at Wuthering Heights, and the invitation had been accepted on one condition…”

Once Rick was satisfied he started fucking you at the same hard pace as before.

‘“Mrs. Linton begged that her darlings might be kept carefully apart from that, “naughty, swearing boy.”’

Rick crooks his fingers upwards as he pushes them in, causing you to moan loudly as your body arches against his.

You’re starting to sweat. You’re overwhelmed by the sudden change in temperature. You’re unsure if it’s because of the roaring fire or how close you are to coming undone, but whatever the cause, it was making your brain foggy. All you could think about was how badly you wanted to rip your clothes off and how badly you wanted to cum.

“Rick, please don’t stop,” You beg.

“‘Long as you keep reading, I won’t stop fucking this tight little pussy.”

“I can't,” You whine.

“You better,” Rick commands as he plunges his fingers deep inside you.

“Under these circum-“ Rick’s fingers crook up again causing your walls to clench around his fingers. “Circumstances!”

You shout as his fingertips repeatedly brush over the spot deep in you that causes the muscles in your stomach to tighten.

Rick can tell you’re close. As you continue to read he uses his other hand to begin playing with your clit. He starts by rubbing soft circles around it, but as he fucks his fingers into you harder, faster, deeper, he starts to rub your sensitive bud faster.

“Can feel you holding out on me, baby girl. You wanna cum don’t you?”

“Yes!”

“Need it, huh?”

“Need it so bad!” You begin to grind your hips, fucking yourself against Rick’s hands as he continues to play with your clit.

The mix of sensations is too much. You can feel his long fingers pushing deep inside of you, feel the rough pad of his finger rub against your clit, can feel your skin burning against his touch and his hard cock rubbing against your ass.

“Please let me come!”

“Finish the sentence, baby.”

You cry out frustrated, “Under these—Under these circumstances…” You huff, “I remained solitary.”

It all comes together perfectly. The final thrust of Rick’s fingers hitting your sweet spot along with a slight pinch to your sensitive bud causes your body to buck upwards as you come undone. You soak his fingers in your juices as he slowly pumps his fingers in and out, supporting you through your orgasm.

When your body falls against him, exhausted and overworked, Rick gently pulls his fingers out of your cunt and releases the fabric of your underwear. He pulls his hand out of your shorts and brings his fingers up to his mouth. He licks them clean, savoring your taste.

Rick pulls his fingers out with a pop, leaning his forehead against your shoulder. He kisses your exposed shoulder blade and brings a hand up to your forehead wiping away the sweat.

“I knew you could do it, Darlin. You’re my smart girl, huh? So good at listening to me because you know good girls get treats.”

You give him a sweet smile letting him know how much you love his praise. He kisses the side of your head before picking up the book. He picks up where you left off, reading the rest of the chapter as you relax in his arms.

[bellamyblake]

Tug

Part two of the Sway series

This time I was inspired to write for the prompt word ‘Tug’ so I did cute dad!Bellamy with some smutty Bellarke!

Hope you like it! I’ll put the link in reblog!

Bellamy woke up with a start when he felt someone tugging him by the back of his shirt.

He grunted a little when he realized his knee was still throbbing, opened his eyes lazily and the first thing he saw was Clarke curled up on herself, asleep just by his side, which of course made him smile.

The dark circles under her eyes from her lack of sleep lately because their four-month-old daughter Cassie kept waking them up in the middle of the night, made him furrow his eyebrows, though.

He had almost forgotten about the reason why he woke up when he felt the tug again.

“Dada-” Gus’ tiny scared whisper made him roll over and find his four year old son staring up at him with his big beautiful brown eyes and the most worried expression on his face.

He looked adorable, dressed in his little space PJs that he and Miller had dug out from a bunker a few months back and his hair was a frizzled curly mess, similar to his. From the moment he was born, Clarke always said he was a spitting image of his dad but Bellamy often argued that Gus may look like him but he was all Clarke-soft, nurturing and sometimes very, very stubborn.

He was also cute as hell and he was using this to his advantage.

“What’s up, little wolf?” Bellamy asked using his nickname for Gus but keeping his voice low, so they wouldn’t wake Clarke.

“I had a nightmare. Can I sweep here with you, mama and Cassie?” Bellamy sighed and rubbed his forehead tiredly.

This has been happening a lot lately and it was in a big way, Bellamy’s fault, partly because he hadn’t constructed the cabin the right way when he built it, not really leaving enough room for both a nursery and a toddler’s place (mostly because he wasn’t sure when they’d get there or how many kids they’d decide to have) and then again because when Gus came crawling to them like this in the middle of the night, begging to sleep between the two of them, Clarke always said no while Bellamy relented and picked him up, pleading her with big eyes as he lay the boy between them.

Of course, she had been right. Clarke was always right.

They’ve been trying to make Gus get used to sleeping on his own from the moment they found out Clarke was pregnant again.

In fact, they had tried to start training him even before that but he ultimately patted to their tiny bedroom and snuck up on his own sometimes, not even waiting for Bellamy to pick him up.

They’ve tried to talk to him lately and explain why he had to sleep in his own room, have his own space and be in his own bed but with Cassie’s arrival, things got even more complicated, again because they didn’t have enough space and had to keep the baby in the room with them, so they could easily pick her up and take care of her when needed.

That made Gus feel left out which broke Bellamy’s heart but he knew that the kid had to learn how to do certain things. It was tough for him because they were busy with Cassie too and he loved his little sister, but Bellamy was sure he must’ve also felt left behind.

It wasn’t easy and they were trying their best but if he had to be honest it was Clarke who stayed at home more with the kids than he was.

They had decided to split their time off work and after Cassie was old enough not to wake up through the night, that Bellamy would be the one staying at home while Clarke went back to her duties as a councilwoman and medic.

It’s what they did with Gus too and what they planned on now but this year had proven to be a lot harder-Clarke’s presence in the chambers was required a lot more than before as a new treaty was being drafted between the clans and they were trying to get more help from some of the grounders that didn’t totally hate them so they could survive the winter and have more food this time around.

She had to leave for Polis once when Cassie was just a few weeks old and then again for TonDC last month.

It killed her and he knew that but she was putting on a brave face.

He was the one who worked all day long for now though, mostly because they were desperate to catch enough game and dry the meat for the winter before the first snow came.

The weather was progressively getting worse but he would go out almost every day with his hunting group that included Miller, Monty, Monroe and occasionally Jasper. They were good at it but it wasn’t the only thing he had to take care of.

Kane had put him on guard duty too and he was also in charge of the wood stocking for the coming months which meant he was physically exhausted from either standing on his feet all day, running in the woods or bending his back chopping woods.

On top of that the knee he broke last winter was making its pain known the moment they got even a scent of chilly breeze and he had started limping around the house and having trouble getting his leg to work early in the morning or late at night.

Something, which again, Clarke hated.

He wasn’t doing enough to help her with the kids and he hated it. Seeing her torn between home and work was taking its toll on her, on top of that Cassie was a particularly loud crier, nothing like Gus as a kid, so that made everything harder.

To take at least a little bit of the burden off her shoulders, he had started bringing Gus to work with him when the kid had days off daycare or after he was done with it. He wanted to give his boy more attention, remembering how he felt left out when Octavia was born and refusing to believe the same thing would happen to his son too.

He loved bonding with Gus and Clarke always got a little calmer when she saw Gus laughing and running after his dad (even if she didn’t approve of all of his shenanigans). He let him ride his horse Hermy (short for Hermes) and come on guard duty with him. They went fishing a few times and built a snowman in the backyard.

Gus adored his dad and saw him as his hero as much as Bellamy didn’t feel like it at all, so every moment he spent with him was the most precious for the boy.

Now he looked at his son and the way he was cllutching on his plush rabbit that Bellamy made him himself, his thumb pushed in his mouth, sucking on it like he always did when he was nervous, his eyes filled with unshed tears.

“Gus, we’ve talked about this, son-” he spoke when he thre the blanket off of him and pushed himself up in a sitting position.

His knee creaked like an old door when he bend it and Bellamy winced but shook his head and looked back on Clarke, making sure she was still asleep.

“Come ‘ere-” he stood up and picked Gus in his arms with the boy immideately snuggling into his dad and resting his cheek on his shoulder “How about we make you some warm milk with herbs, huh?” Gus nodded but remained quiet as his dad took him out of the bedroom and brought him to the small kitchen.

He shook his head and scolded himself mentally when he looked at the cabin again-he hadn’t planned that thoroughly at all and it’d only get tougher when they have more kids, which they’ve talked about but couldn’t settle on four or five. (with Clarke being the one who wanted more than him and him worrying over her own well-being.)

The one thing they both could agree on was how much fun trying for a kid was. They got their horny periods where they simply wouldn’t stop fucking each other. Before Cassie came to be, Clarke joked he always came so hard, she could get pregnant with triplets while he blushed and hid in the crook of her neck.

The one thing that always made Gus calm down after a nightmare was some warm milk with herbs and honey, the way his mama used to make it for him since he was a baby. While he was growing up, Bellamy understood that he was still a kid and needed those soft moments to help him calm down. The last thing he wanted was for Gus to grow up as fast as he had.

When he turned the light on and started taking out the cups and products, their dog Ares, who was asleep in his bed in the corner, woke up with a tiny whimper and got up on his feet.

“It’s just us, big boy.” Bellamy let him know and Gus moved his head,  peaking from behind his dad’s shoulder as he saw Ares trotting by.

They had a special connection, Ares and Gus. The half-wolf dog was attatched to the boy and curled up by his cradle since Gus was born. Gus played with him a lot and Bellamy knew that as long as Ares was there, nothing bad could happen to his son.

Now he licked Gus’ bare feet and Gus giggled after which he buried his head in Bellamy’s leg, letting him know he’s here.

“Dada, Ares limps like you.”

“That’s true, little wolf.”

“Dada, why do you always call me little wolf?”

“You know why, Gus.” Bellamy said softly as he stirred the milk while it was warming up and rocked the baby left and right, swaying him a bit just like he did with Clarke when she was pregnant for the first time, carrying that very same beautiful boy in her womb.

“Please tell Gus the story again.” Gus begged and looked at him with the same pleading eyes as before. Bellamy smilled and ruffled his hair before kissing it softly and focusing on the milk again.

“It was the day your mama and I made you. We were down by the river washing clothes and trying to get cool because it was so hot when on the way back we heard some rustling in the bushes and-”

“You got scared!” Gus finished, after having heard the story a hundreth times but never getting rid of it.

“We did.” Bellamy confirmed and kissed his nose again, making him nuzzle in his chest even more.

“Dada, how did you and mama make me?” that question was a first, though and it made Bellamy blush hard and stumble with his words. Meanwhile Ares, as if feeling up his master’s confusion looked at him tilting his head as if he too wanted to ask “Yeah, master, how did you make the little rascal?”

“Well...uh...we just...loved each other a lot...so we uhh...kissed.”

“You kissed?” Gus asked confused “And mama got me in her belly?”

“Something like that, yeah.” Gus grew pale for a moment and pushed away from his dad, staring at him with new-found worry on his face. “What is it, kiddo?”

“Dada....I kisssed Janie at day care the other day too. Does this mean she got a baby in her belly?” Bellamy couldn’t help but laugh quietly at that and rub Gus’ back softly.

“It doesn’t work like this, Gus. You have to be older and...you have to really love each other and...hug a lot.”

“Oh...okay.” Gus said scratching the back of his head still quite confused “So nothing bad will happen to Janie because we kissed?”

“Not at all. Plus trust me, neither your mom and I nor Janie’s family are ready to become grandparents.” Gus smiled a little and sighed relieved “You never told me you kissed her, though?” he felt like Gus was hiding more stuff from them lately because he didn’t want to bother them and that made Bellamy and Clarke worry a lot.

They found out just last week that Dax’s kid Rex was bullying him and tripping him over when they were playing outside. He never said anything and they only found out cause they saw a big bruise on his forearm and made him talk to them.

“It’s more like...she kissed me.” Gus explains, sighing heavily as if he had the most complicated of love lives. “I didn’t really expect it.”

“Was it good? Did you like it?” Bellamy asks curiously as he finishes up making the milk and pours it in a small cup that was all Gus’ with a cute dog drawn on the outside-yet another one of Miller and his bunker rummaging adventures.

“It was nice. She’s very kind and I like playing with her and dwaling with her.”

“Drawing?” Gus nodded and watched his dad mix the honey and the herbs and stir it with the spoon.

“Keep the story up dada.” he reminded by patting Bellamy’s chest “You heawd the rustling and you went to check it out, didn’t you?”

“Yes, I did. Your mom was a little annoyed with me for deviating from the road and possibly getting myself in danger-”

“Like you always do.” Gus said “Her words, not mine, dada.” Bellamy rolled his eyes but lifted him up in his arms and grabbed the cup, finally taking them to the table where he carefully sat on the chair and adjusting Gus in his lap before handing him the cup.

“But when I moved the leaves away I saw a little wolf with his left back leg, trapped in a snare-” Ares, upon realizing this story was about him, came closer and curled up by Bellamy’s feet, still rather sleepy. “He was crying and seemed hurt. There was blood on his back and thigh. When I tried to help him, he almost bit me-”

“But why dada?”

“Because he was scared. He didn’t want to hurt me, he just wanted to protect himself.”

“He didn’t know you yet?”

“That’s right. So I took out my knife and cut the snare. He cried out and wanted to run away but couldn’t walk, so I carefully stroked his head and let him sniffle me until he let me pick him up. Your mom came to check him out later and we wrapped him up and took care of him. Then we brought him home and he stayed with us forever.” Bellamy leans over and runs his fingers through Ares’ head as he remembered that day-he had been so tiny but now he was all grown up, at the peak of his youthful life and strength. He had recovered from his wounds but sometimes when he got too tired from running or was feeling sleepy, he limped the same way Bellamy did. It was yet another mutual trait they got.

“By the time you came out of your mama’s belly, Ares had grown up, so he became the big wolf and you, the-”

“Little wolf!” Gus finished excited and almost spilled his milk from enthusiasm.

“That’s right, my boy.” Bellamy touched his nose and kissed his head again. “My brave little wolf.”

“I’m not brave, dada...” Gus said at that and sipped on his milk “I can’t sweep alone and I should...cause I’m a big boy.”

“No-” Bellamy shook his head “That’s not the reason why your mama and I want you to be in your own bed. You can grow but you’ll always be our little boy-” he tickled under his cheek and pulled him up to his face “We just want you to have your own space, your peace. You know your sister’s still too young, she cries a lot and wakes you up when you’re with us. You need your rest and good sleep so you can grow and be healthy, okay?” Gus nodded and pressed his cheek against his dad’s chest “I know it’s hard and a lot has happened in the past few months with Cassie coming in our lives.” Gus shrugged “It probably makes you feel left out.”

“Not left out...just...different.” Gus says “It’s hard to expwain.”

“Try.” Bellamy begged by taking his little foot in his hand and rubbing it softly. The kid was getting sleepy again, he could tell by the way his eyelids were drooping, but he wasn’t there yet.

“I...don’t want you to get angwy, dada.” he said and peaked up at him briefly.

That made Bellamy wince a little, hating himself for making his kid think that he could ever get mad at him for something like this.

“Gus...listen to me, son. I never would get angry about the way you feel, okay?” Gus nodded but he wasn’t too sure so Bellamy kept rubbing his back softly “Talk to me, little wolf. Please.” Gus sighed but picked up his dad’s hand that was thrown over his middle and played with his fingers like he did when he was a baby.

“I just miss when mama you and I would go on walks on Sunday...I miss pwaying with the leaves in the backyard...and swinging. I love being with you, dada but I want us all together...mama, you, Cassie and I.”

Bellamy swallowed hard at that-it’s been through that lately they haven’t had time for their typical family Sunday days when they’d wake up early, make pancakes with Gus, play in the backyard or go on a walk in a field near camp. It’s just been too hard and on his days off, Clarke had gone to work while he stayed with the kids, so she could catch up on her stuff too.

“I know, son. I miss them too.”

“Reawwy?” Bellamy nodded.

“Your mom and I will make sure we have more Sundays like this again, okay? It’s just been a little more stressful lately with the winter coming and all the clans mama and I have to go see.”

“Is that why you work mow?” Bellamy swallowed hard again but nodded.

“Yes. There’s a lot to be done but mom and dad are trying hard, okay? And we appreciate how patient you’ve been with us.” he strokes his head again “We know it hasn’t been easy for you but you make us both very proud.”

“I do?”

“All the time, son.” Bellamy promised and kissed his forehead softly, watching as he got more drowsy “Now it’s time for bed, okay?” Gus whimpered a little and watched as his dad took away his now empty milk cup.

“But dada-”

“I’ll come with you and stay until you fall, okay?” Gus nodded and let his dad pick him up in his arms “You can do this, little wolf, I know you can. Come on, Ares will come with us too, right big wolf?” Ares immideately jumped on his feet, ready to be at service and followed the boys back to Gus’ room.

Gus trembled a little in his arms but calmed down when Bellamy put him down and moved up to his tiny bed that he had made himself last spring.

Ares curled up right under after licking Gus’ fingers, making sure the kid was fine.

“What was your nightmare about?” Bellamy asked when he tucked him in and swallowed down a groan from feeling his knee protest at the uncomfortable position he was in again.

“I was out at the market in Polis and couldn’t find you or mama.” Bellamy gripped his hand hard again and closed his eyes.

This had been a repeating dream of Gus’ ever since he truly did get lost last year once they visited Polis together.

It was a sunny warm day and Gus had been excited to go to the capital for the first time. Clarke was a little off because they had just found out she was pregnant with Cassie and was a little drowsy from the horseride there. She kept her hand on her little bump and her face was so pale that Bellamy had to put his hand on her waist and guide her through the place so she wouldn’t pass out.

Kane and her mom had been with them and when Gus asked to go see the fire players Kane had taken him only to come running back ten minutes later, saying he lost Gus.

Bellamy got so scared, he thought he’d have a heart attack. He yelled at Kane even though it wasn’t his fault and both he and Clarke rushed in to try and find Gus.

They alerted the Polis guards but at the end it was Indra who had found Gus perked up on a nearby tree by the horse stables. He was trembling and scared, couldn’t stop crying and refused to let go of them for days after.

When they asked him why he went there he said there were so many people that he knew he had to get somewhere high so he could find them and that he chose the stables cause Hermy was there and he’d keep him safe.

Bellamy spent countless of nights awake after this. He simply couldn’t fall asleep knowing how stupid they had been to leave the kid out of their sight in such a crowded place. Clarke had taken it better even if she was shaken up too but she kept coming to him, finding him on the back porch, smoking his pipe and staring into their back yard garden.

“You can’t keep blaming yourself.” she had said one night “You also have to accept that sometimes bad things will happen to our kids and there won’t be much you can do.” Bellamy sighed, knowing she was right but refusing to accept it. It was really hard for him to watch Gus get hurt or sick. He constantly worried about Clarke and him and took it as his personal mission to try and be there for them, protect them or take away their pain.

Something that he ultimately almost always failed at.

“We’re here, kiddo.” Bellamy promised “And we’re not going anywhere.”

“Promise?”

“I promise, Gus.” the kid nodded and his limbs got a little limp in his dad’s arms “Can you check...for monsters...in the closet, dada?” Bellamy smilled and kissed his head. “I think I heard some noise.”

“Of course I can.” he promised and got up to limp to his little wardrobe that had all his clothes, opening it up and pretending to be kicking something out of it, making Gus giggle from under the blankets. “Anywhere else, kiddo?”

“Undew the bed, dada.” Bellamy’s leg screamed when he kneeled down and creaked so hard again that even Ares heard it and looked at his master confused.

“It’s all clear, kiddo.” Bellamy promised and curled up with his son again until he dozed off “I love you, little wolf.”

“Love you too...da-da” he whispered back right before he fell asleep. Bellamy stayed there for a while, making sure that the boy was in deep sleep now before getting up and patting Ares’ head saying:

“You keep my boy safe, okay, Ares?” to which the dog replied with a good messy lick of his fingers.

Bellamy slowly trotted back to the bedroom and found Clarke still in the same position she was before-curled up on herself.

It made him smile how much she looked like Gus when she was like this and argued in his head with her notion that their son was a spitting image of him. He checked Cassie’s crib, finding the baby asleep as usually on her stomach and stroked her head a little before kneeling down to kiss her cheek.

Then he gently snuck in bed with her and placed his hand on Clarke's waist, gently pulling her closer again, hoping not to disturb her peaceful sleep.

Except it seemed he already had because she groaned in his arms and wrapped her own hand around his waist,

“Where were you?” he smilled.

She always knew when he left the bed.

“Gus needed me.”

“Couldn’t sleep again?” she opened her eyes and looked at him worriedly.

He cupped her cheek, thinking how much he loved her when she was so drowsy and sleepy, so adorably cute and beautiful.

“He’s okay now, though. We had a good talk.” he kissed her forehead as a way to calm her down, knowing how much she worried about Gus too.

“You did, huh?” Bellamy hummed and let her bury his head in the crook of her neck.

She threw her leg over his ass and pressed her full breasts to his rock hard chest. He moaned a little when he felt her there, holding her up fully wrapped around his body now and looked at her sheepishly.

“Clarke-” he let out desperately and she smilled when she moved up to kiss his lips.

They haven’t really had the time to be with each other much lately and whenever they fucked it wasn’t even in their bed-they would find ten minutes in her office or in the medbay storage or even on the backporch while Gus and Cassie were still asleep inside but they hadn’t really had any time to indulge in this.

He knew Clarke eyed him a lot when he came home from work and he took off his shirt to take a shower.

Her eyes lingered on his torso and fell to his crotch with desperate want. She had also noticed how he’d lick his lips and stare at her lovingly whenever she fed Cassie and her full breasts came out of their confinment which was one of his old plaid shirts.

The best they could do sometimes at night is for him to get his fingers in her on the living room couch and get her off while Gus was brushing his teeth or for him to stroke himself lazily in the middle of the night when she woke up to feed Cassie and rocked herself on the chair he made for her.

But it’s been a while since a proper middle-of-the-night bed fuck and it felt like this would be a good time for it.

Clarke snuck her hands under his shirt and let them roam over his back while pushing her crotch to his boxers.

His dick immideately reacted and he groaned when his fingers found the buttons of her shirt and started undoing them all the while he kissed her senseless and once he found her right breast and cupped it softly, she arched her back and moaned loudly in his mouth.

“Holy shit, princess.” he whispered when they pulled away breathless and his eyes fell down to her breasts “You look so stunning.”

“No, I don’t.” she huffed like he was saying the silliest thing in the world.

“Yes, you do.” he knew she had been insecure ever since giving birth to Gus.

She had gained some weight, then lost a lot really fast. It got so bad, she started passing out from not eating and hid it from him. One of those times it happened in the middle of the night when she got up  to grab some water. He woke up from her body hitting the floor and immideately rushed her to her mom. They had a talk about it and she shared all her thoughts with him.

He held her in his arms and told her she was beautiful, promising to wake her up with this every morning until she believed it.

He still did that, even now, four years later. Without a fail that was the first thing he said to her when they both woke up. If she was away, he'd radio it. If he had to be up earlier, he wrote it on a note and left it by her pillow, so it'd be the first thing she saw.

It got better over time but he noticed she still had moments of relapse, usually early in the winter or when spring came. He’d see she barely ate and casually filled her plate with food and followed her around with a bottle of water when she was working too hard.

When she felt it was getting worse, she went to her mom on her own and they worked it through together but she had been mostly well in the past year.

Being pregnant with Cassie helped her overcome some of that even when he thought it may bring back the old demons. It hadn’t.

Clarke had been proud of gaining a little weight the more her belly grew but he had still caught her staring at the mirror lately and rubbing her tummy that albeit mostly flat, still had the cute curves that her body always did.

Her thights were heavier, fuller and so was her ass but he absolutely loved it all.

He tried hard to remind her of it.

He rolled her on her back and looked down at her, stroking her head as he smiled down at her and spread her legs with his other free hand. She gasped and moved up on the pillow the moment she arched her back.

He smiled and unbuttoned the shirt all the way down, pushing it aside and revealing her beautiful chest. She moved up and helped him take it off while he simply marvelled at her.

“I love it when you look at me like this.” she whispered.

“Like what?”

“As if you see me naked for the first time ever.” he smiled and leaned down to kiss her.

“That’s because every time I do, there’s something new about you. It’s familiar and unknown at the same time and I want to kiss every spot I haven’t, touch every place I didn’t before...love you in the best way I can.” he explained as he sucked on the skin between her neck and shoulder and dragged his hand over her chest, stopped at her tummy and softly rubbed it there.

“I don’t think you realize how amazing you are. Carrying both our children in you...being the most badass mother there is while running this camp...”

“I don’t do it all alone.” she buried her fingers in his curls and lift her legs up, locking them on his back “I got you too.” he huffed and shook his head like it was nothing but felt his dick grow harder and she moved up and down again on him a little, desperate for friction.

He grabbed the hem of her panties and gently lifted her up as he slid them down her legs and watched her kick them out of the bed.

He giggled like Gus did sometimes and Clarke found her heart filling with love for her beautiful man.

She pulled at his boxers too and felt the excitement of having him in her so soon yet again as if it was the first time they were doing it.

He let her hands roam over his ass like he knew she liked to do and paid attention to her breasts in the meantime, sucking off her nipples and feeling some of her milk come out.

“Sorry...I didn’t mean to.”

“It’s okay, I’m quite full anyway.” she promised “Plus, it’s kind of sexy.” he blushed again and followed her eyes as they fell down to his hard dick that was now away from its confinments.

Her hands slipped to take his dick and he gasped the moment she wrapped her fingers around him, closing his eyes and grunting at his inability to prevent himself from pushing in her hand a little. She smiled too and stroked him a few times while he spread her legs wider and allowed her to guide him in.

Coming into her felt new every time. She was so good and warm, like coming home after a long day of work.

He stilled inside her for a bit and allowed them to have this minute in which they both gasped in each other’s faces and tried to catch their breaths.

“Fucking...awesome...every time.” he whispered and she laughed out while his hands moved to his shoulders and he adjusted her hips up on his back.

“I feel like you get bigger with the years.” she whispered and he blushed.

“I doubt that’s anatomically proven, princess.” he laughs as he pulls away and then comes back in with a rather sharp jolt. She gasps and he covers her mouth with his big hand “Shh, we don’t want to wake Cassie up.”

Clarke opens her eyes widely and  stares up at him. He expects her to mumble something but instead he feels her tongue against his fingers and that makes him hiss.

God, his princess was kinky.

When he tried to move his hand away she stopped him and put it right back there, showing him she loved this while urging him to keep fucking her by digging her heels in his butt.

He moved in and out really fast at first, almost pounding into her, pushing her back to the wooden bedboard and removing all pillows away, throwing them on the floor. She had a really hard time keeping her gasps quiet but his hand helped and then...he slowed down because he realized they weren’t really in a rush.

Clarke took his middle finger into her mouth and sucked on him while he softly pushed in and out of her. She came calling his name then for the first time and he beamed when he saw her so happy.

When he tried to pull away, though, she wouldn’t let him. Instead she rolled them over and rode him, coming for the second time just minutes after.

He was gasping at the sight of her and when he was on the verge of his own orgasm, she rolled off of him after being on top and surprisingly fell on her left side and pushed her back and beautiful round butt into him.

“Princess?”

“Fuck me sideways.” she said and he almost came at the words alone.

“Clarke...are you sure, you came already.”

“But you haven’t and I know why.” she scolded as she looked up over his shoulder “You don’t think you deserve to. You’re so silly.”

“Clarke-” she huffed as if annoyed with him and reached her hand out, taking his dick in her fingers and tugging it a little. He gasped so loudly they both heard Cassie move in her crib and Clarke gave him another serious look.

They remained quiet for a minute, just to make sure Cassie wasn’t waking up and Bellamy couldn’t stop staring at his dick in Clarke’s hand as awful as that must’ve sounded.

“If you wake up the baby before you’ve come, I’m going to kill you.” he chuckled and carefully moved over to her, spreading her legs again and using his fingers to touch her first.

It was incredible how wet she still was despite coming twice already. He kissed her shoulder as he gently pushed into her and felt her body relax into his embrace.

“You’re right, you know?” he whispered into her ear as he started moving in and out of her again “I don’t deserve you.”

She took his hand and moved it from her stomach to her breast, asking him to cup her there again. She didn’t say anything back which he thought was a good sign that she for once agreed with him and when he finally came inside of her, feeling his cum fill her whole and almost coming again at the image of it, he gasped out and then carefully slipped out of her.

She moaned loudly too and let go of his hand which she had moved to her mouth to use as a way to silence herself, before rolling over and pressing herself to his side.

She threw her leg over his thigh and he felt her wetness spread over the skin there which almost made him hard again.

He was surprised when she cupped his cheek and turned his head to her.

“You know how every morning you tell me I’m beautiful, right?” he nodded and kissed the crease between her forehead. “It means the world to me even when I can’t show it or say anything back or even believe it. It’s the same thing as you massaging my head after a long day or putting a glass of water for me after I feed Cassie because you know I get thristy or kissing my forehead before you leave for work.” he smiles at that and stares into her deep blue eyes “It’s your heart, Bellamy.” her fingers slip to his chest and he swallows hard at that, feeling his eyes fill with tears “It’s so big.”

“Clarke-”

“It is and it scares me sometimes but it also gets me angry. I don’t want you to ever think you don’t deserve having me or Gus and Cassie in your life because you do and we’re lucky to have you and I’ll never get tired of saying it the same way you never get tired of telling me how beautiful I am, okay?”

He smiles and picks up her left hand, threading his fingers over her knuckles and taking out her ring finger on the side of which they both had small tattoos they did when they got married by the river a little before Gus was born.

Hers was a crescent moon with tiny stars. His was the sun above tiny ocean waves.

He kissed her moon and pulled her close.

“I love you, Clarke Griffin.” she found his hand and kissed the sun too as she snuggled further into his chest.

“I love you too, Bellamy Blake.”

They fell asleep and when half an hour later they were waken up by Cassie who was wailing like she had never been fed in her life, Bellamy watched Clarke get up and pick their daughter up as she came back to bed and nursed her gently.

He rest his head over her stomach and looked at her, thinking how he’s the happiest person in the universe or any other that could exist out there.

[moonyswolfie]

Legillimens

Soooo I love the rougher, player Sirius fics, I really do. I have plenty saved in my likes. But I can’t help thinking that when this sweet man falls in love, he becomes the fluffiest and blushiest ever, even more than sweet baby Remus.

So here is some soft and fluffy Sirius, enjoy everyone!

Sirius Black x Legillimens!reader

Summary: Sirius is trying to come up with a way to ask you out, unaware that his thoughts are loud and clear for you to hear...

Sirius found himself to be a nervous mess around you lately, a fact that made you giddy. After all, it wasn’t every day that the school ‘s infamous charmer was reduced to a stuttering, blushing mess.

You and Sirius have been friends for a few years now – just friends – but in the last couple of months both your feelings have changed, taking a romantic turn.

It started slow for you, catching yourself stealing glances at his beautiful face during lessons, finding his jokes genuinely funny and lighting up every time you laid eyes on that gorgeous, radiant smile of his.

Before long, you came to the shocking realization that you have fallen for your best friend – and that you were surely doomed to a life of heartbreak seeing as he only thought of you as a friend and nothing more.

And unlike other girls, you could actually state that fact with full certainty.

You’ve been born with a rare ability : you were a Legillimens, meaning that you could hear other people’s thoughts, and not always intentionally.

It was a strange ability, one you’ve grown accustomed to over the years.

Many times you’ve wandered the corridors of the castle and heard what you thought were people right by your side, yet when you turned to look, no one was there. They were thoughts coming from different Chambers, from various people.

And such was the case with your best friend during your current lesson. You didn’t mean to pry, you actually did your best to avoid his thoughts as much as you possibly could at all times – something you did with all your best friends - in fear that you would intrude on their privacy, but now Sirius‘ were loud enough that you could hear them from the other end of the room you two were in.

‘Y/N, how about you and me an…no, scratch that. It sounds horrible. Come on, Sirius, you can charm every girl in this entire castle with one look, you can ask your best friend on a date!‘

The last comment got an eye roll out of you, but still, a huge, surprised smile tugged at the corners of your lips.

To say that you were taken aback when you heard your name would be an understatement. Did that mean he fancies you too?

You never thought that he would return your feelings, let alone want to date you.

But this shy side of him you were hearing now, this was quite flattering.

‘Hey, Y/N… yes, definitely better’ the voice in his head sounded less frustrated this time around ‘would you… maybe… if you want… uh… go out..on a date…with me?“

You had to physically restrain yourself from awwing out loud and answering his question since you were in the middle of Potions class, but you were beaming.

Sirius Black returned your feelings.

It felt wrong every time you overheard other people’s intimate thoughts, but this time the guilt was a lot smaller in comparison to your happiness.

He wanted to ask you out, but the thought made him nervous.

You chewed on your lower lip, lost in your mind, and didn’t hear the bell announcing the end of the lesson until a tall figure leaned against the wall to your right.

“Ready to go, Y/N? We have a few essays to write for tomorrow, so we’d better get started on them.”

You stirred back to reality and nodded, smiling in Sirius’ direction.

“Yes, of course, let’s.”

You got up and packed your stuff quickly, exiting the class with him and joining the rest of the Marauders on the corridor.

The second he laid eyes on you, James furrowed his brows.

“What’s got you this happy, Y/N/N?“

You shrugged and started walking towards the Library.

“Nothing in particular, Jamie, I’m just excited that the weekend in one day away and that we have a Hogsmeade trip too.”

He grins, one that Remus matched perfectly. You knew exactly what was on their minds without needing to look, they were excited to go to Zonko’s and stock up on prank items.

*

Three hours later, you let out a groan and sprawl yourself all over the library table.

“If I never hear the word ‘war’ again, it would be too soon”

The boys laughed and shook their heads, adding the finishing touches on their own History of Magic essays about the Giant Wars. James finished first and nearly jumped out of his seat when he saw the time.

“Blimey, I’m late again for Quidditch practice! This essay took forever. I’ll see you guys after!“ he yelled the last part on his way out, earning a bunch of giggles from the rest of you and a harsh shushing from Madame Pince.

You sighed and changed your position, your head now resting on your arms, yet this time you stole cheeky glances at Sirius when you were sure he wasn’t looking.

He is most handsome when he’s focusing like that, hair slipping in front of his face, shielding half from sight, tongue sticking out all cute when he’s deep in concentration...

‘Maybe ask her now. She’s right in front of you, come on, this is your chance…’

Sirius tilted his head and glanced at Moony, who was filling his third parchment with his beautiful and neat handwriting.

‘Or after Moony leaves too… or maybe kick him out somehow?'

You started giggling at his last thought and that got weird looks your way from both boys. You blushed bright red and shook your head, waving them off.

“Was trying to set up a plan for a prank on Pince. Though I think I may have gone too far and it’s not doable either“ you replied quick, to cover your mistake.

The boys have known about your gift from day one. After all, you weren’t about to hide from your best friends, were you?

But they were also counting on your promise to stay away from their heads, so they never worried about you reading their minds before, and nothing changed now. Remus shrugged and went back to writing while Sirius chewed on the end of his quill, a habit that you found quite adorable.

They were none the wiser at the cause of your giggle, and you breathed out a sigh of relief. If Sirius knew, this would have turned very awkward insanely fast.

Twenty more minutes have passed before Remus put his quill down and gathered the now four scrolls of parchment and stuffed them in his bag.

“I think I’ll go and catch up on some sleep now, if you don’t mind, I can still feel the last full moon’s effects on me” he said and muffled a yawn “Pads, you coming up too?“

Sirius hummed and looked up from his own essay, now covered in doodles on the edges.

“Hmm? No, I’m good, Moons, I’ll actually stay a bit more and compare some Charms notes with Y/N/N” he said and winked your way, making a faint blush dust your cheeks.

Moony smiled as well and got up.

“Suit yourselves” he said and he was out the door a moment later.

“So… “ you started and fumbled for your Charms notes in your bag, but Sirius’ hand on your wrist stopped you mid movement.

“No, I… the Charms notes were just a pretext, I’m sorry. Truth is, I wanted to ask you something and I wanted you alone for that” he finished in a whisper and his cheeks were now a matching shade of pink to your own.

You stifled a smile and offered him your full attention, raising a brow curious.

“Would you like to… maybe… if you want, I mean, you don’t have to… I mean… “ he groaned and buried his face in his hands “would you want to go with me… maybe tomorrow….“ he stopped again and his blush intensified, increasing your urge to aww and cover him in kisses.

His flustered state, as much as it melted your heart, made up your mind and so you put him out of his misery.

“I would love to go on a date with you, Sirius” you said soft, taking his hand in yours and drawing small circles on the back of it.

He frowned in confusion, which made a guilty expression appear on your face.

“Your thoughts have been pretty loud today, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to pry.”

Although his cheeks were beet red at this point, he couldn’t help but chuckle and pull you to his chest, holding you tight and kissing the top of your head sweet.

“Well, I’m quite glad they were, I don’t know if I’d have been able to properly ask you that question.”

You giggled and buried your face in his chest, inhaling his familiar scent and letting it wash over you, engulfing you in the most pleasant sensation you’ve ever felt.

[calzona-ga]

[Spoiler] talks with The Hollywood Reporter about his return to the ABC medical drama and why the surprising reunion with Chyler Leigh had to be filmed via green screen.

[This story contains spoilers from the April 1 "Breathe" episode of Grey's Anatomy.]

The magical beach on Grey's Anatomy just delivered a double surprise.

Viewers knew that Chyler Leigh would be returning to reprise her role as Meredith's younger half-sister, Lexie Grey, but she wasn't the only former star who came back on the show's magical beach. Eric Dane, in a surprise appearance, returned to reprise his role as Lexie's on-screen love interest, Mark Sloan.

Both Dane and Leigh appeared together on the beach as part of a central storyline as Meredith (Ellen Pompeo) continues to battle COVID-19. Dane and Leigh become the latest former stars to return to Grey's Anatomy this season, joining Patrick Dempsey (Derek) and T.R. Knight (George) as the Shonda Rhimes-produced ABC drama continues to focus on the impact of the pandemic on the medical community.

Dane and Leigh's Mark and Lexie appeared for the first time since the season eight finale. That episode featured Lexie telling Mark that they were meant to be as she died from injuries sustained in a plane crash. Mark, meanwhile, was killed off in the season nine premiere as Dane left the series to pursue TNT's The Last Ship.

Below, Dane talks with The Hollywood Reporter about providing closure to Mark and Lexie's love story, being part of Meredith's big storyline — she's now off the vent and breathing on her own — and why his reunion with Leigh had to be filmed via green screen.

What was the pitch to come back? Had you seen that Patrick Dempsey had come back and wonder if you were going to get a call?

No, I hadn't. I was in Shanghai, China, when Krista Vernoff reached out and said, "I have an idea." She texted me. I said, "Well, I'm in Shanghai, of all places. And I'd love to hear your idea. Give me a couple weeks to clear quarantine and I'll find you." And she says, "How would you feel about coming back? I don't know if you've seen what's going on, but Meredith is in this coma in a fever dream from covid. And she's seeing all her friends on a beach." And I said, "Well, that kind of makes sense. Yeah, sure, let's do it."

Was the pitch for both you and Chyler to return the same episode

Absolutely.

What was it like reuniting with Chyler after all these years?

It feels like I never left. It was very comfortable and very easy, and it was so nice to see a lot of the same faces with the crew. It's a role that always fit for me, like one of those great old t-shirts. And it was just like putting the t-shirt back on and hanging out on a beach for a couple days, and catching up with some old friends.

Did you actually film with Chyler? She's a regular on a show that films in Vancouver, which would have meant she had to quarantine in the middle of Supergirl production to film this.

Chyler was in Vancouver. So we had to work some magic. Chyler could get here but then she couldn't get back to Canada. There was some green screen. There was a lot of me and Ellen. And Ellen an eye line.

Were you bummed that the logistics didn't work out for you and Chyler physically share a scene together again after so long?  

Yeah. I'm honestly bummed you even asked me that because I wanted to sell the myths of us actually being on screen together in person. But don't take it personally. It's OK, you're doing your job. But Ellen and I see each other every now and again, Justin [Chambers] and I see each other every now and again. I spent so much of my life with these guys. When you see them again, it's not a big, "Oh my God, what have you done?" It's like, nobody skips a beat. It's just, everything kind of fit. It fit then; it still fits.

What did you and Ellen talk about between takes?

We talked about kids, my 11-year-old just found Grey's Anatomy and she's asking me a lot of questions which are difficult to answer. We talked a lot about our kids finding this show, and how do we handle that. How do we police what they're able to watch? Are they of age? Is it appropriate? Some of it raises some questions that I'm not quite ready to answer yet. But I don't mind it because both my kids now want to be surgeons. And all their baby dolls they used to play with are now being cut open, and they're stitching up bananas. It's fun.

On-screen, the episode implies that Mark and Lexie wound up together in whatever this special beach is. Shonda Rhimes said back in back in season nine that killing off Mark was the only way for Mark and Lexie to really be together. In Lexie's last dying words, do you think Mark and Lexie were meant to be?

Absolutely. I mean, the line Meredith asks is, "So you guys are together." And I say, "I guess on your beach, we are." But I think Mark would have found Lexie no matter what. Whether it would have been on Meredith's beach or Lexie's beach, or anybody's beach, I think Mark would have found her.

Does this feel like you have closure with this character again? Did it feel like there was any lingering questions that you were really able to put a bow on this time?

I think it all came full circle. The one question I think that everybody was left with was, obviously Mark Sloan saying goodbye to Lexie and she said, "We're meant to be." And then Mark passes on, and we don't know what that meant. And now we know, Mark and Lexie are together in their parallel universe.

As an actor, do you feel like this is the closure that you maybe didn't quite get the first time?

Yeah. I always felt like there was closure. I've always trusted these writers and what they were doing as far as the overall story and the character's departures. They've always handled that really well. I guess the only people that weren't provided with closure was the audience. And I hope that this can do that for them.

Even though you didn't film in the same place, it really does feel that way.

Two-thousand miles of distance between us is not going to the chemistry that happens on screen between us. I know who I'm talking to, she knows who she's talking to. And that translates.

Mark spoke about always looking out for Callie (Sara Ramirez) and Arizona (Jessica Capshaw) and their daughter, Sofia. That felt like something special to be part of, too.

I can identify with that. I lost my father at a pretty early age and I always felt like he was looking out for me — still to this day, to a degree. So those words meant something to me, and I believe in them.

Ultimately, Mark and Lexie help Meredith fight to stay alive in her battle with covid. What does it mean to you to have been able to not only come back, but to do so in such a meaningful way?

It's a pretty poignant moment. I would think anybody speaking to anybody beyond the grave would probably provide the same advice. You get one lap in life, it's very important that you live every day to the fullest. You keep both feet in today, you stay present. And you're there for your loved ones.

Any regrets about not being able to reunite with Patrick Dempsey to bring McSteamy and McDreamy back together?

No. I love Patty. That wasn't the story. There were no regrets. I've never had regrets about anything on the show.

You said in a 2013 interview that you would have stayed on Grey's until the last episode but ultimately left because you couldn't pass up the role in The Last Ship. Looking back, any regrets about asking to leave?

No regrets. Look, Grey's Anatomy is a fantastic show and it provides a fantastic life. I'm an actor, I think it's very unnatural for any actor to play the same character for eight years. It's just counterintuitive to what I think I'm doing for a living and I think what my purpose is with my job. So, as much as I loved being there, and as much as I loved working with the people I was working with, playing Mark Sloan for 17 seasons just seemed like, I don't know, a little antithetical to what I'm supposed to be doing as an artist. And you get to a point where that's all anybody is going to see you as. And even with The Last Ship, I wasn't playing Mark Sloan, but I was playing a guy that certainly looked like Mark Sloan and had some of the same characteristics. And then I took a year off and said I need to mix things up here because I'm not finding any real joy in the work I'm doing. And then Euphoria came along and was very different and something I've never done. And it's going to challenge me and keep me engaged. And nobody is going to expect this out of me, so let's do it.

What's the status of season two?

Season two is going to be fantastic. I don't think principal photography has started yet, but I know we are prepping right now. I think mid-April we start shooting.

Is the plan still to get the show back on the air this year?

I believe so. We do take a long time filming it. And it's a gift to get that much time to shoot an hour of television. We take 30 days to shoot an episode sometimes, which is unheard of. When we were shooting Grey's in the early days, the 10-day episodes that we would get were unheard of. But 10 days and two units, people were like, wow, that's a luxury.

So to return to Grey's and get to spend a few days on the beach and not on set and in scrubs under the gun like the old days must have been a nice final memory of the show.

It was a great couple days on the beach with some old friends.

[manonblaqkbeak]

Exhausted but Grateful

Good evening, back again with yet another fic. I was asked by @autumnbabylon for a papa Rowan fic so here’s my attempt lol.

Enjoy!

1265 words

Rowan wasn't sure what made him open his eyes in the middle of the night. But here he was, slowly cracking open his tired eyes. The only noises he could hear was Aelin's snoring where she was wrapped in his arms, the ticking of the clock on her nightstand, and Elentiya's breathing. He reached out with his magic, but nothing was there.

He looked over to where he knew Elentiya would be, next to Aelin on their bed within easy reach. The bassinet he built was by the foot of the bed, but their daughter seldom spent time in it.

Elentiya was awake, her pine-green eyes wide and exploring.

Their daughter was not a fan of sleep, often spending the night screaming the entire castle awake, or doing exactly this, looking at the world through her young eyes.

Rowan and Aelin really wished she would sleep. At one month old, he was certain that she barely had any sleep since her arrival and Rowan and his mate felt the effects of it—and the few people that saw them could see the effects too, mainly the dark circles under their eyes. Rowan had often fought in wars sleep deprived and managed to win them, so when his daughter arrived, he was ready for the sleepless nights, to re-use the skill of sleeping with his eyes open.

He was prepared. Until he soon discovered that sleep deprivation due to a baby was just completely different. He fought in battles with his eyes half open, but he could not raise his baby with his eyes half open.

With his eyes fully opened, Rowan glanced at the clock and internally groaned when he read the time—2:37am. Her last diaper change had only been thirty minutes ago, her last feed at midnight. Rowan had changed her diaper, so that Aelin could sleep for longer—she did need it more than him.

Her body was still healing, since Yrene did not heal the internal damage of birth, claiming that it was best to let the body heal naturally, that she would have only intervene if Aelin was in great danger, and since his mate was not in great danger, Aelin had a miserable time; constantly having to change her soiled undergarments and linen rags due to the heavy postpartum bleeding (which, according to Yrene, was heavier than humans since Fae recovery was far more harsh than what human women had to go through) that she had to deal with for a couple more weeks, the slow process of her body going back to its pre-pregnancy stage, and a whole slew of other things.

Rowan was proud as hell of Aelin, and he made sure to tell her that often, so that she could know how much he appreciated her for what she was going through—and what she went through during her pregnancy and the labour to bring their daughter into the world.

Kissing Aelin softly on the cheek, Rowan slowly detached himself from her. Once successful, he silently moved off from the bed and picked up his daughter, mentally begging her not to cry. It was always a gamble to pick her up when she was awake, the result would either end with Elentiya screeching in their ears or staying quiet.

Tonight, she was quiet, thank the rutting gods.

Cradling her in his bare arms, Rowan made his way onto the balcony, the night air warm and bringing with it the scent of the Kingsflame. He pointed out the flowers, vivid even at night, and told her how important those flowers were to Aelin, to the people of Terrasen.

The people of Terrasen had not yet seen Elentiya, but knew that the Princess was healthy and well looked after. He and Aelin were feeling rather protective over their daughter, and in the first two weeks of her life, they had only trusted Yrene and Aelin's personal Healer, Magnolia, in the same room as them. It was just last week that their family finally got to meet Elentiya, arriving with gifts for all three of them. And when no one had dropped her, Aelin and Rowan felt comfortable enough to leave their daughter alone so that they could have a moments rest and then a steaming hot bath for them both.

One day soon, the people would be able to see her, but not just yet, it would be in small steps. First with their family, and perhaps a stroll through the palace gardens.

“Would you like the visit the gardens?” he asked his daughter, knowing very well that she couldn't answer. “It's one of your mother's favourite palaces to wind down. Maybe when you're older, you could have a plot of your own to grow anything you want. Maybe a change of scenery will help you to learn how to sleep through the night.” Kissing Elentiya's cheek, because he and Aelin both unable to resist giving her kisses whenever they could, Rowan then started to tell Elentiya the stories behind the constellations of the stars that weren't covered by clouds.

When the Lord of the North made itself known, he shifted her in his arms so that she could see the bright constellation.

“This constellation means everything to the people of Terrasen. It's everything to your mother, too. It helped her when she was lost," he said, and then added, "when you're older, your mother and I will take you to Oakwald and hopefully you'll see one of the sacred stags for yourself.”

“I like the sound of that,” Aelin said from the balcony doors. Before he could turn around, Aelin came up behind him and wrapped her arms around his bare waist and rested her head on his back. “How long have you been out here for?”

Rowan shrugged lightly and was about to answer when he noticed Elentiya's eyes drooping. Slowly extracting himself from Aelin's arms, he kissed his wife's cheek and went back inside, carefully putting her in the bassinet, covering her with the Terrasen green and gold blanket, the gift from Aedion embroidered with the symbols of the Houses of Galathynius, Ashryver and Whitethorn.

Aelin was already back on their bed and she gave him a small smile as she patted his spot. More than ready for some sleep, Rowan climbed back into bed, Aelin resting her head on his chest.

“I think going to the gardens would be a good thing,” Aelin said after a moment. “It'd be nice to get out and I think it'd be good for Elentiya, too, to see something else other than these chambers.”

“What time would you want to go?” he asked, trailing his fingers up and down her back. Aelin took to wearing his silk tunics, claiming that she found the material soothing against her sore breasts, their daughter seemingly hungry all the time.

“Around mid-morning," she said, fighting a yawn. "It's usually quiet around then, it's mainly the gardeners around.”

“Sounds like a good plan.” Rowan kissed the top of her head and borrowed down into the pillows.

“Of course it's a good plan, I came up with it.”

Rowan snorted but didn't say anything, too tired to get into the history of Aelin's plans.

Soon, they both fell asleep, exhausted but grateful for Elentiya, and knew that they would always cherish these moments with her, even if they couldn't remember the last time they had a proper nights sleep. Both of them already looking forward to the day--when Aelin was ready, of course--to add another member to their family one day.

[apricusss]

i’ve got you (zuko x gn! reader)

warnings: anxiety attacks

an: something about zuko calling the reader ‘baby’ is just heartwarming to me

summary: Zuko wakes up in the middle of the night to hear crying. He finds out you had a nightmare and comforts you..

word count: 939

i’ve got you

It was like any other night in the Fire Nation Royal Palace.

The meetings about Republic City were long, and Zuko would spend most of his time during the days attending the meetings. He was the Fire Lord, so he had to attend the meetings. Zuko thought the meetings were dreadfully boring.

Who knew founding a city would be this strenuous? 

Needless to say, Zuko was exhausted by the end of the day. He wanted nothing more than to collapse onto his bed and fall fast asleep.

He retired to his chambers, yawning and stretching as he walked down the torch-lit hallway to his room. 

He reached the door, swung it open and smiled.

The room was already dark, and curled up in his bed was (name), his significant other. He would often find them sleeping peacefully in his bed at the end of the day. As soon as (name) heard Zuko enter the room, they sat up, rubbed their eyes and smiled.

“Hi Zuko,” they said affectionately.

“Hey sleeping beauty,” Zuko cooed back. “Did I wake you up?”

“Not really,” they yawned. “How was the meeting?”

“Boring,” Zuko said, frowning. (name) laid back down on the bed once they noticed he started disrobing.

Zuko took off the plate of armor on his chest, and the robes underneath, so that he was only wearing his gi. He walked over to the bed and pulled himself under the sheets.

(name) turned to face him. Reaching out with their left hand, they began stroking Zuko’s hair with their fingers. Their hand trailed down to his cheek, thumb stroking the dark circle under his right eye.

“You look tired,” they commented.

“I am tired,” Zuko nodded his head, closing his eyes.

“Come here,” (name) held out their arms. “Snuggle with me?”

Zuko shifted his position in the bed so that now he was laying his head on their chest. He intertwined his legs with theirs under the sheets.

“Much better,” he said, smiling.

(name) closed their eyes and fell fast asleep for the second time.

. . .

Zuko woke up at some random hour in the middle of the night. He instantly groaned. He was used to waking up in the middle of the night, but he was so exhausted from the previous day’s events that he just wanted a good night’s sleep. He didn’t even know what had woken him up. The meetings were boring as it is. Why did he need to sit through them? He already knew what he wanted to do with Republic City, he talked about it with Aang. Why did the rest of the Fire Nation need to be invo-

There was a noise.

Zuko quickly realized it was the sound of crying. He looked to his left to see (name) sitting up in a fetal position, bawling so hard they could barely breathe. They were gasping for air.

“(name)?” he whispered quietly.

They didn’t answer, and started crying even harder.

“Baby what’s wrong?” he said softly, not wanting to frighten them.

(name) choked out a few words, and there were only a few Zuko could make out.

“Nightmares… same one, over, and over… know you’re tired… sorry I woke you up…” 

“It’s okay, baby, it’s okay,” Zuko said, his heart melting at (their) last words. “(name)… is it okay if I touch you?”

Without warning, (name) wrapped their arms around Zuko’s torso. Their cries became louder now. They gripped the fabric of Zuko’s top with their balled fists. Instinctively, Zuko wrapped his arms around them in a protective manner. He rubbed their back with his hand in an attempt to soothe them. 

Zuko’s voice was calm, peaceful. “It was a dream. Sometimes dreams can feel real, and that can be scary. But you’re here with me. I’ve got you, and I’m not gonna let anything happen to you, I promise.”

(name) sniffled, their cries subsiding slightly.

“Just hold onto me, baby,” Zuko murmured sweetly. “Breathe with me.”

(name)’s grip on the back of his top loosened slightly as he gently scooped them up onto his lap and cradled them in his arms. (name) felt so weak and vulnerable in that moment, and it made her more upset.

“I’ve got you,” Zuko said in a reassuring tone, planting a soft kiss on the top of their head. “Just breathe with me, okay? I’ve got you.”

(name) did their best to imitate the rise and fall of Zuko’s chest. Within five to ten minutes, (name)’s breathing became more steady, their sobs became less and less frequent. they buried their face in Zuko’s chest, nuzzling him softly.

“You’re doing so good, baby,” Zuko whispered sweetly. “Remember, I’m here with you all the way.”

(name) nodded, sniffling. Their tears were silent now. They pulled away from Zuko, looking up at him with soft, sad eyes.

“Thank you,” they wiped their tears with their sleeve. “Thank you so much for doing everything you do for me. I knew you were tired and you wanted to get a good night’s sleep and I probably ruined that for you… I’m sorry… I’m so sorry.”

Zuko brushed a stray tear from their cheek. “You didn’t ruin anything, baby. I’d stay up all night if it meant that you’d be okay. I will always be here.”

Zuko laid back down on the bed, (name) following suit. The two faced each other, gazing fondly at one another.

“You gonna be okay?” Zuko asked sweetly.

“Yeah… I think I am.”

He held out his arms.

“Snuggle with me?”

(name) wrapped an arm around Zuko’s torso, burying their face in the crook of his neck.

“Always.”

[alj4890]

Hello dear! I have an ask I just recently read TRH book 1 what if we get Liams POV when Riley goes into labor and when he has to make that awful decision. What are his thoughts when Riley passes out and there’s no doctor? Maybe we can find out how they got the door open?

I replayed TRH book 1 & 2 recently, so this ask couldn't have come at a better time 😂. I wonder though if anyone else thinks it was odd that Godfrey was put in charge of installing new security at the Palace. I mean, why wasn't Liam and his King's Guards handling that? I don't know, but those chapters of Riley giving birth are some that hurt me, and only because the poor woman is denied an epidural 😂 I would have Godfrey strung up by his thumbs for causing that and allow Olivia to torture him to her heart's content. But enough of my revenge ideas, let's see what I can do with this for you.

@gkittylove99 ​ @krsnlove ​ @kingliam2019 ​ @texaskitten30 ​ @yourmajesty09 ​ @mom2000aggie ​ @ofpixelsandscribbles ​ @twinkleallnight ​ @lodberg ​  @amandablink ​ @neotericthemis ​  @mm2305 ​ @sfb123 ​ @iufilms​

Masterlist

The Decision

It was too much to comprehend.

One moment, Liam was confronting the man who killed his mother and the next was nothing but chaos and darkness.

Screams rent the air as flashing red lights revealed steel enforced doors dropping down over the ballroom's doors and windows.

Liam knelt beside his wife when he realized she had been knocked down by a panicking guest.

"Are you hurt?" He asked, gently brushing her hair out of her eyes.

"Only my pride." She tried to smile but a painful tightening around her middle struck.

Her eyes widened when she felt a wetness between her legs.

"Liam!" She gripped his arm. "My water broke!"

"What?" He searched through the crowd for their friends. "Now?"

She nodded while breathing through another contraction. "We have to get to the hospital."

"We will." He helped her up. "Let's get you somewhere more comfortable while we get a door open."

"Liam!" Riley doubled over. "I don't want to have our baby in a ballroom filled with people."

"Is there a problem?"

The couple stiffened when they heard Isabella's voice. Her husband Bradshaw smiled at them.

"Our guards would be more than happy to help with the door situation," his smile held a hint of smugness, "as long as your child is betrothed to one of our twins."

Olivia arrived at that moment followed by their other friends.

"Are you saying your guards won't help rescue you without a betrothal?"

"We're in no immediate danger." Bradshaw explained.

"In fact, we're quite comfortable waiting for your pitiful little guards to find a way out." Isabelle added. "No need for us to cross international lines and damage delicate feelings with our more than capable personnel."

"Delicate!" Olivia heaved a deep breath. "We don't need your help to get out of this."

"We don't?" Maxwell asked. He let out an oomph when Olivia elbowed him. "I mean, yeah we don't! This isn't the first time we have been faced with a challenge."

"No steel door will ever convince us that their baby should be forced to be with one of your twins." Drake added.

Olivia beamed at him before turning her fury on the visiting monarchs. "I'll have it opened in no time."

"Yeah!" Maxwell cheered. "Go Nevarkis Ingenuity!"

She rolled her eyes while going to examine the metal door that covered the double doors into the ballroom.

"Oh!" Riley eased back down into a chair. She raised her eyes to Liam's. "They're getting stronger."

He gently rubbed her back. "Have you had any pains this evening?"

"It was all in my back. I thought it was from being on my feet most of the night." She took deep breaths to calm down. "But now--"

The flashing red lights and alarm stopped. The couple turned to see a proud Olivia slip a strange looking quartz bladed dagger back into a garter under her dress.

There was a square shaped hole cut within the wall with numerous wires exposed.

"That's going to be difficult to repair." Maxwell muttered.

Liam could not have cared less about the damage. If Olivia wanted to tunnel underground to get them out, then he would gladly rip up the marble tiles himself.

Riley cried out as a strong contraction struck.

"I need a distraction!" She puffed through the pain.

"How about some music?" Hana asked. "I composed a new piece recently."

"Or we could sing." Maxwell offered. "Any song you'd like."

"We could?" Drake shook his head. "Sorry Brooks, but that's not happening."

"You would deny her a song when she's in labor?" Maxwell's jaw dropped.

"I doubt our singing would help her any." Drake replied. "Might even double her pain."

While his friends bickered, Liam found his thoughts drifting back to the secret chamber they had unearthed less than an hour ago. He slipped his hand into his breast pocket to touch the letter he had discovered.

His mother's words about how much joy he had brought her echoed in his heart. He wished she could have lived to see the type of man he had become. He had tried with everything within him to live up to her expectations. Would she have noticed? What would she think of him as king now? What would her opinion have been on this choice he and Riley were given for an arranged marriage for her grandchild? Would she approve of them wanting to give their baby the right to choose his or her own spouse?

He wished he knew. He wished she was here guiding him in not only capturing her killer but in also knowing what to do for his wife and unborn child. He would have given anything to have her wise counsel once more.

"Hana!" Riley yelled to stop the argument between her three friends. "Please play whatever you like." She glared at Drake. "Someone's voice is getting on my nerves."

Hana hurried over to a piano and began to play a soothing song.

"I'm going to check on the door situation." Liam pressed a kiss to Riley's cheek. "I'll be back in just a moment."

"Hurry, please." She pleaded.

"I'll watch over her." Maxwell promised.

"I'll go check on the door with you." Drake added.

Liam made his way through the crowd, pausing here and there to reassure everyone that they would be out soon.

"Give me a boost." Olivia ordered.

Drake squatted down and linked his fingers together.

Olivia slipped her heels off and placed her foot in his grasp.

"One...two..." He heaved her up in the air, "three!"

Olivia steadied herself and quickly studied the mechanism that had allowed the door to drop. A lock had formed thus causing them to be unable to lift it up.

After poking and prodding with one of her stilettoes, she noticed the thin metal holding the lock in place.

"Bring me down." She ordered.

Drake grunted as he brought her back down. "Next time, stand on my shoulders."

"Did you figure out how to get it open?" Liam asked.

"I think I might be able to weaken the lock with heat and one of my daggers. Once we destroy that, we should be able to lift it." She explained.

"Can't we hotwire it?' Drake asked, gesturing toward the exposed wires.

"Not since I had to cut so many to get the alarms to turn off." She remarked. "I wouldn't be surprised if there is some emergency failsafe in place for an enemy's attack on the wiring. It might even drop another door on us."

Liam ran his hands over his face. "Do whatever you can to get us out of here."

"Good." Olivia nodded towards the bar. "Drake, we will start with the brandy to use for fuel."

Liam shook his head at her plan to start a fire of sorts. He hoped she didn't end up hurting herself in the process. Honestly though, he couldn't seem to focus on what he could do to help get the doors open.

"Your majesty! I don't think I can breathe in here another second!" Penelope grasped his arm while hyperventilating. "I don't do well in enclosed spaces."

"When will we get out of here?" Another noble demanded.

Questions began to be thrown at him as the crowd closed in a circle, trapping him directly in the middle.

"Is Olivia trying to burn us up in here?"

"We're going to die!"

"What are the guards doing to save us?"

"Auvernal's guards will have us out in minutes, if your king agrees." Bradshaw yelled out over the crowd. His smile was the final straw to break Liam's barely restrained temper.

"Enough!" Liam roared. "We are not going to die in here. The guards are doing all they can and Olivia is graciously assisting." His eyes zeroed in on Penelope. "Go sit down to try and calm your breathing. You're in the same ballroom you have danced in for years." He then turned to Auvernal's king. "As for your assistance, it isn't needed at this time."

Bradshaw shrugged his shoulders as if it wasn't a big deal, but his eyes held a deep seeded anger as he looked upon Liam. "If you think your guests wouldn't prefer to get out of here as quickly as they can, then I suppose there is little we can do."

Murmurs rose once more around him. Liam clinched his fists then pushed his way through when he heard Riley call out for him.

Will this night never end?

It was becoming too much for him. The whining of his people, his wife in pain and in need of medical care, his own innate need to chase after Godfrey and make him pay for poisoning his mother...he needed it all to stop for a minute to allow him to think.

"Liam!" Riley had tears falling down her cheeks. "We need to go to the hospital now!"

She gripped his hand as Hana finished the last few notes to her song.

He knelt before her chair. "Olivia has found a way to open the door. We'll soon have you out of here and--"

The sound of metal screeching had everyone turning toward the double doors.

Seeing the steel door go up caused Liam to scoop his wife in his arms and rush toward the exit.

Their friends and guests spilled out after them to only stop short.

Godfrey had installed these same safety measures on every window and exterior door along the first floor.

"Liam?" Riley puffed through another contraction. "What are we going to do?"

"I found a way out of there." Olivia boasted. "I'm certain I can--"

Bradshaw clucked his tongue. "This isn't the same type of door, your grace." He smirked at her. He knocked against the thicker steel door. "My guards could find a way outside to open it, but only if you sign this."

He produced a betrothal contract.

Riley whimpered as she looked at it and then her husband.

"Get. That. Out. Of. My. Face." Liam ordered.

He turned on his heel to take his wife upstairs to their chambers. Once he reached the first step he spoke over his shoulder. "Olivia, we trust you to handle this. Hana, please call Riley's doctor and ask her to meet us here instead of the hospital."

***************

The hours dragged on as they waited. Olivia appeared periodically to vent her frustrations with getting the door to open. Drake, Maxwell, and Hana attempted to keep Riley's spirits up as she endured the ever increasing contractions.

Liam felt absolutely useless. He didn't know what to do to help his wife. He didn't know the first thing of helping a woman give birth. What if there was a complication? What about their child? What if he couldn't clear the baby's airways? What if--"

"Liam?"

He focused on Riley, weakly gripping his hand. "Yes, my love? What can I do?"

"I feel...odd."

Maxwell nudged Liam out of the way to check her blood pressure.

"Where did you find a blood pressure kit?" Drake asked.

"I know it's hard to believe, but Bertrand has high blood pressure." Maxwell winked at his friends. "I can't imagine where his source of stress comes from."

Riley tried to smile at his teasing. She could feel whatever it was pulling her under making every movement feel like it she was wading through quicksand.

Maxwell's smile disappeared. He studied Riley's flushed cheeks and stepped back.

"What is it?" Liam whispered as his friend pulled him away from her bed.

"Her blood pressure is really high right now." Maxwell glanced over his shoulder. "I don't know if that's normal for a woman in labor, but I do know that this is when I would be calling an ambulance if it was Bertrand with this reading."

Liam rubbed his hands over his face. This entire night was one nightmare after another.

"Riley?" Hana shook her by the shoulders. "Riley?!"

Liam rushed back to the bed to see his wife passed out. He took a cold rag and wiped her face, hoping it would bring her back to them.

"Riley?" His voice cracked. "Please, wake up." He looked around at their friends. "What should I do?"

"I don't know." Drake draped his arm along Hana's shoulders when she began to softly cry.

"Keep talking to her." Maxwell jogged out the room. "I'll see about the door!"

Liam turned back toward Riley. He placed his hand on her stomach and could feel the tightening of contractions along with the faint movements of their child.

Riley opened her eyes.

Liam gently cupped her cheek.

"What happened?" She asked.

"You blacked out." He explained. "Your blood pressure--"

Maxwell returned with a frustrated Olivia.

"...short of dynamite, I don't know how I'll--" she stilled when she saw the color drain from Riley's face.

"I think it's happening..." Riley became unconscious once more. Her head dropped back on the pillows.

"We have to get that doctor here now." Liam looked up at Hana. "Any word from her?"

"She is right outside." Hana explained. "And so are Auvernal's guards."

Liam took off out of the room. His long, deliberate strides had him at the balcony overlooking the entryway where the Auvernal monarchs stood talking to some of the guests.

His friends had to nearly run to catch up with him.

Bradshaw looked up and curved his lips. "Trouble, King Liam?"

Isabella snickered. "I hope Queen Riley isn't suffering unnecessarily."

Liam launched himself at the smug king when he brought up the severe pain Riley must be in at this moment.

Shouts from his friends, guests, and the King's Guards drowned out him telling Auvernal's monarch to have his guards break down the door.

"No." Bradshaw's easy smile grew into an evil smirk. "I don't see any reason to have my men do anything like that to help a woman who isn't a part of my country nor one who wishes to ally herself with mine."

"You bastard!" Liam jerked his arm back. His fist formed as he prepared to beat this man within an inch of his life for denying his Riley a doctor.

It took Drake, Maxwell, and Bastien to hold him back from starting a war with Auvernal with a single punch. Olivia and Hana got between the two kings while Isabella merely looked on in glee.

"My wife and child are going to die if I don't get that doctor in here now!" Liam shouted. "And you stand there refusing to--"

"Not refusing!" Bradshaw snapped. "I'm trying to help you." He snapped his fingers and was handed the engagement contract by a nearby Auvernal guard. "Sign this and my men will have your doctor in here within five minutes."

Liam felt all the adrenaline that had rushed through his veins when he tried to punch the man leave his body. He felt not only weak but utterly worthless. He couldn't see any way out of this. He couldn't lose his wife. He couldn't lose the child they had eagerly waited for.

He couldn't get the damn door open without the very people he had grown to loathe these past nine months.

"Liam," Olivia whispered, "it's the only option we have now."

"We'll find a way to break it." Maxwell whispered.

"Yeah," Drake patted his shoulder. "Right now, you need to just accept the deal to get Brooks and the baby some help."

Liam glanced over at Hana to get her advice.

Tears filled her eyes. "I--I know this isn't what you want, but we have no choice."

Liam swallowed and snatched the paper from Bradshaw's hand. He signed the cursed document and tossed it in his face.

"There! Now get that doctor in here before it becomes null and void."

Bradshaw quickly gave the orders for his guards outside to break down the door with a battering ram.

In three minutes, Dr. Ramirez was following Liam up to the royal chambers.

She helped rouse Riley and then guided her through the delivery.

Liam watched in awe as his wife produced the most perfect baby girl he had ever seen.

Tears of joy and immense relief trickled down his cheeks as he held his daughter for the first time.

"I think we should name her Eleanor," Riley said, watching him kiss their little one's forehead, "in honor of your mother."

His eyes practically glowed as he looked upon his wife. "Thank you, my love."

She snuggled her head on his shoulder as they both gazed down at their own miracle.

Liam knew he needed to tell Riley what had happened with Auvernal yet he didn't want to ruin this first moment of them as a family.

He silently vowed as he held his daughter that he would somehow find a way to save her from an arranged marriage.

[avintagekiss24]

THE FALLEN || BUCKY BARNES

-- DEMON!AU -- ONE SHOT --

pairing: Demon!Bucky Barnes x black!reader || word count: 5,783 || warnings: smut, sex, vaginal fingering, demon possession, language, angels/demons || challenge: @wxntersoldiers​ 6k au challenge - demon!au || summary: heaven was above, hell was below - but now they’re both on earth, and you’re stuck in the middle. || author’s note: i stole a little from supernatural, a little from the bible (this is not a religious fic and I am in no way trying to push any religions/beliefs onto anyone!), and also took some liberties for this one! also, major thanks to @tropicalcap​ & @littleheavensangel2​ for helping me figure this fic out. love you two ladies!

just for reference, steve is archangel Michael, bucky is fallen angel Azazel, sam is archangel Uriel, rhodey (james) is archangel Gabriel.

line divider by @/writeyourmindaway!

You grip the shotgun tightly, your finger curled around the trigger as you stare down the long barrel. You keep your left hand cupped around the forearm as you press the tip of the gun into the rusty, old metal door, pushing it open with a loud creak. Your eyes dart around the abandoned warehouse as you move into the damp, dank room, the smell of sulfur hitting your nostrils.

Something shifts from somewhere deep in the warehouse - the familiar click of something metal hitting the floor. You whip in the direction of the noise, your eyesight aligning with the small sight at the end of the barrel, your breath going shallow. You stand stark still, just waiting for something - anything - to move, growl, or breathe, so you can blow it right back to the fiery pit of hell it came from. But nothing moves, nothing growls, nothing breathes - it’s just you and the silence of this new world.

You cut your eyes back into the center of the room and move forward, each step balanced and focused. You lower your weapon, very slightly, as you walk up on a small, burnt out fire. You kick at the old newspapers and napkins before you scan the room with your squinted eyes and kneel down beside it. You pick at the burnt rubble, lifting some to your nose to sniff at it before throwing it back into the burnt pile. Whoever was here is long gone. 

You close your eyes and bring your hand to your face, letting out a deep sigh. You rub your forehead and then your eyes before you grab the back of your neck. Sleep is pulling at you. Steve’s voice rings in the back of your mind - you can’t keep going like this. You’ve been through worse. All the survivors have. A few nights without sleep is considered a privilege these days. 

You take another deep breath but jolt back up on your feet, spinning around and hoisting your shotgun back up to your face. Sulfur fills your nostrils, stronger than when you first stepped into the warehouse. Then, there’s a soft sound of steps, one slowly after the other, circling you. You blink, but move with the noise, following it in a circle, training your eyes on the darkness.

“Come out.” You say firmly, adjusting your grip on your weapon, pressing your finger a little harder into the trigger.

It doesn’t answer. It just continues to circle you slowly, making sure to stay in the darkest parts of the empty warehouse, careful of the moonlight. 

It’s amazing how calm you are now in moments like this. A year ago, when the world first collapsed and heaven and hell was unleashed upon it - you prayed for death. You weren’t meant for this; you weren’t strong enough. You were a city girl. Starbucks in hand, AirPods in your ears, Christian Loubotins on your feet, a (huge) engagement ring on your finger. Your worst fear was someone parking their luxury vehicle in the spot that was reserved for your luxury vehicle.

Then it all went to shit.

Your Loubotins have been replaced with a pair of old, ripped Adidas that you took while out on a supply run. Your Birkin bag is now a high school boy's backpack, again, picked up while rummaging through an abandoned house. The only thing you have that reminds you of you, is that engagement ring, placed on a simple gold link chain and tucked underneath your tattered shirt. The weight of it, the feeling of it pressing against your chest keeps you grounded - it helps keep your memory of Bucky alive. 

Now, this shotgun, two hunting knives, and a katana are extensions of your body. Killing - demons or humans - is second nature to you. You are strong enough. 

“Come out,” you announce again, “Now.”

A deep chuckle rings out. You fire a round into the wall opposite you before pulling back on the forearm, the spent cartridge flying past your face and falling to the ground. You push the butt of the gun back into your shoulder and keep moving with the sound of the steps.

“Ooh,” a voice calls towards you, “Tough girl, huh?”

You fire another round, slamming the forearm back again to push another bullet into the chamber. The steps stop. Soft curse words float toward you as you finally spot a shadow doubled over. You smirk.

“Imagine if I were aiming for your face,” you shrug, “Bucky, come out.”

He chuckles again. He steps out into the moonlight, rolling his shoulders as he glances down at the bullet wound in his side, “I liked this shirt.” 

You peer at him over the barrel of your still raised gun, “Looks good on you.” 

He does indeed look good - like the old Bucky, the one you still dream of. He even keeps the simple silver chain that you gave him a few Christmas’ back around his neck. His hair is longer, and dare you say, you almost like it better than his tailored look from before. It’s pulled up into a bun - a bun! - a few loose tendrils falling around his face. The human Bucky never sported a beard, or even the smallest trace of stubble, but demon Bucky…. he’s, well, everything your Bucky was not.

Gone are the crisp, ironed, button down shirts, slacks, and designer loafers. Black combat boots, black jeans, black leather jacket now dress his muscular frame as he stands before you, his head cocked, a shit smirk on his face. 

His eyes are different, and that’s the most unsettling part. Those deep, ocean blue, often demonstrative eyes are just a memory now. Two yellow orbs stare back at you, devoid of any notion of who he once was - or the life you shared together. 

You blink, remaining steady as you watch him dig into his jacket pocket and pull out a loose cigarette; the gaping hole in his side closing up on it’s own. He places the thin stick between his lips before flicking his eyes back to you, and snaps his fingers. A bright fire starts to burn at the tips of them. He keeps his eyes on you and covers the end of the cigarette to shield it from any wind that escapes in from the broken window overhead, and lights it slowly. 

He inhales deeply, pulling his head back up straight as he pulls the cigarette from his lips and exhales a cloud of smoke in your direction. He winks at you, playing with you seemingly before he shakes out the fire on his fingertips.

“Why are you following me?” He asks after a few silent seconds, taking another drag of his cigarette.

You can’t tell him why, although, if you could, you’re not really sure that you would want to. You don’t know if you really believe what Steve is trying to get you to believe. You were always a pessimist - the glass is half empty kinda girl. Something in you keeps nagging at you, telling you that your Bucky is gone. 

You still remember the last time he was truly your Bucky. His frantic voice filled your ears as you lifted your phone to your ear, your eyes wide and full of tears  as you sat in shock while the television at your office played out the gruesome stories from all over the world. Building collapsed, people running for their lives, blood staining the streets. Deep, long cracks in the concrete as fire spewed up from below. 

“Listen to me, baby,” you barely heard him say, “Just get home, ok? Lock the doors, close the blinds, don’t let anybody inside. I’ll be there in twenty minutes. Ok? Promise me, baby.” 

“Bucky,” you whimpered as hot tears streaked down your face, “I’m scared, I can’t. I can’t -  what is happening?” You sobbed.

“Hear my voice, baby,” He said firmly, “Just get home, okay? I’ll be there, I promise. I will keep you safe.”

That was the last time you heard his voice.

He never made it home.

It took months before you could even understand what could have happened to him, months more before you could actually confirm it. You were out on a run, alone, looking for supplies and a dry place to sleep. You ended up downtown - apartment buildings made for the best supply deposits. It was dark, the streetlights had long since burnt out, but you grew accustomed to moving around with only the moonlight as a guide. 

You rounded the corner and stopped dead in your tracks. There was a group of them, but naturally, you hesitated - not knowing if they were human or the possessed. Just when you were about to turn and head back from where you came, you heard it. His laugh. When you turned back, he was facing you and every ounce of air was sucked right out of your body. 

He was alive. 

It had been so long. 

Every rational thought drained from your mind. You just wanted to feel him - to hug him and kiss him and tell him how much you missed him. How you’d known all along that you’d find him again. Your feet were moving before you even knew it. Your eyes filled with tears as you crossed the street towards him. You just wanted to feel him. 

“Buc-”

Before you could get his name out of your mouth, you were grabbed from behind and yanked between two buildings. A hand clamped over your mouth, muffling your screams as a chest pushed into yours. The strange man peeked around the corner of the building before returning his attention to you, shaking his head slowly, “Possessed,” he whispered.

You’ve been with Steve - well, Michael, ever since. He explained it all to you - the centuries old war between heaven and hell - good and evil - that had finally spilled over onto earth. How he, Uriel, and Gabriel (Sam and James, respectively) decided to help, despite their instructions to never interfere. The information made you dizzy. You didn’t believe it at first, you thought he was crazy - until his wings spread out behind him. 

You kinda had to half believe him then.

He also explained how it happened - how you could be possessed. You had heard along the way that just looking at one of the creatures crawling up from the gaping holes in the streets could do it. Others said all that was needed was a touch from one. Maybe it was a bite, or a scratch - some even said the possessed had been chosen from birth - everyone had a theory. 

None of them were true, turns out.

“You have to give in.” Steve’s voice was soft, his eyes cast away from yours as you gasped in terror, “You have to offer your soul to them for the demon to take you.”

You want to know why. You want to know why the man you were about to marry, the solid, the strong, the happy Bucky Barnes you knew and loved, gave up his soul - and if what Steve says is true - you want him back.

“I’m not following you.” You lie.

He snorts, “So, it’s just a coincidence we keep running into each other?”

You shrug, blinking slowly, “Looks that way.”

He nods back at you, taking another puff of his cigarette before he expels the grey smoke again and flicks at the end to rid the ash. He drags his eyes along your frame as you stand in the middle of the room, your weapon still trained on him. He knows there’s a story that you aren’t telling.

He tilts his head again, his eyes dropping from your face quickly before they return, “You knew him?”

“Who?”

“Don’t play with me,” He scoffs, rolling his eyes before he gestures at himself, “This pretty face. This Bucky, you keep referring to.”

You don’t answer. You just blink at him, tightening your grip on your gun again as you keep his chest dead center of the barrel. He kicks at the debris on the ground before he gazes up at the tall ceiling, still sucking on that cigarette between his lips. 

“I can’t give him back, you know.” He says matter of factly, “He’s mine.”

“I understand.” You answer simply.

He smiles widely at your humor, “Why are you following me then? Hm? Why do you keep following me around, girl?” His voice deepens by the end of his question - menacing, trying to intimidate you.

You shrug again, “The same reason you don’t ever try to kill me once you realize I’m around.” You click your jaw, “His body may be yours, but I know Bucky is still in there. He won’t let you kill me.”

Your words stun him into silence. He smiles slowly after a few seconds and tilts his head back as he drops the stub of a cigarette to the ground. He cracks his neck and then rolls his shoulders, humming softly. 

He steps towards you but you’re quick, instantly taking a step back, and then another, and another, in rhythm with him, “You want to know how I got him?” He asks, “Hm? How I took your precious little Bucky?” He mocks, laughing at you as your eyes go wide. 

You swallow hard, blinking rapidly as you squeeze your finger against the trigger a little harder, “Stop. Back up.”

“He was damn near dead when I found him,” he continues, ignoring you completely, “I thought he was dead when I first saw him. Poor old Bucky here must have been in a hell of a hurry,” he smiles again, his eyes glowing as he recounts the details, “Flipped his car in all the melee. He was trapped in there for days.”

“Stop it.” You whisper, your chin starting to tremble. 

“Oh, he was gullible too.” He laughs again, “He believed every word that came out of my mouth. It’s people like him that make it so damn easy - he didn’t even put up a fight.”

“Shut up!” You shout as a single tear slips down your cheek, “I mean it, I will blow your fucking head off.”

He stops moving towards you, but laughs again, clapping his hands as the stench of your fear and anger fill his nostrils. He titters, “I know exactly who you are.” He whispers, his smile growing larger as your face clicks in his brain, “He had your picture, clutched in his bloody hand, pressed right up against his chest when I found him.” 

You let out a sob. 

“I used you against him.”

“Shut up!” You scream again.

“He begged me!” He shouts at you, making you stop in your tracks. He clasps his hands together as if he’s praying, “Please,” he starts, mocking Bucky’s pleas, “Please help me. I need to get home, please.”

You squeeze the trigger, firing a round straight at his head. He’s quick, but you knew that, the bullet just grazing the side of his face as he sidesteps it. You slam the forearm back and shoot again, and again, the empty shell casings falling to the concrete floor, soft clicks and tings sounding as they bounce. 

Bucky smirks at you again before he disappears from sight. You reach for the hunting knife strapped around your leg and pull it from its sheath, spinning around on your feet and bringing it down with all the force in your body. 

He catches your arm in mid air. He folds your arm behind your back and whips you around, crushing his chest to your back. 

“All I had to tell him was that I could help him get back to you so that he could keep you safe, and he fell for it - hook, line, and sinker.” He whispers in your ear, his hot breath washing over the side of your face as you struggle against him. He starts to laugh, the sound booming through the warehouse again, bouncing off of the walls, “Isn’t that hilarious? Men are so fucking weak, just the thought of you brought him to his knees.”

He closes his eyes again and starts to sway the two of you back and forth, taking a deep breath, filling his chest and lungs with your scent, “God, you smell good. I could taste you on his lips as soon as I took him. I could feel your skin in his hands - smell that sweet cunt of yours.”

He wraps his arm around your waist, squeezing you to him tightly as he digs his nose into your hair. You shiver at the feeling of his prickly stubble grazing across your cheek, still struggling and whimpering to get free of his grasp. The hand around your waist sneaks up into your shirt, skirting up your warm flesh, his fingers finding your breasts. You gasp when he squeezes them hard - pushing you back into him with his strength. 

His tongue slithers out from between his lips, licking from your jaw up to your temple before he presses the side of his face to yours. He chuckles as he fondles your breasts with his fingers, his hot skin searing yours, making you jump in pain. He cranes your head to the side with his before he rubs his cheek against yours. He nibbles on your ear as you start to struggle once more, then dips down to your neck where he nips at the exposed skin with his teeth.

Your nipples harden. A shiver runs up your spine. An ache starts to spread through your stomach and sex as heat blooms across your skin. Your stomach starts to churn as hatred and anger builds within you. Your mind knows that this isn’t Bucky - but your body doesn’t. It just knows that these hands, these lips, this tongue feels familiar; and it’s been so long.

You feel his dick start to push into your ass, pulling another laugh from the demonic creature, “Looks like my pal Bucky and I both have a weakness for pretty girls.” He mumbles against your ear. He slithers his hand from your breasts and down to your jeans, his index finger tracing the edge of the denim from hip to hip, “I haven’t even touched you yet and I can smell you from here.” 

You're paralyzed. Stuck between your screaming mind and your willful body. He lets go of the arm he has pinned behind your back and grabs your chin, pushing it upward so that you can see him. You blink furiously as he gazes along your face, his fingers gently caressing your jaw and cheek, his eyes roaming slowly.

Your breath is heavy and audible - small whimpers escaping with each exhale. His hand pushes into the front of your jeans and dives right for the apex, finding your folds and clit wet and hot. Your mouths both fall open in unison - yours from the touch you didn’t realize you had been waiting for, his from the delight of it all.

He hums as his fingers start to play with you, rubbing and circling, flicking at that sensitive little bud between your legs. He feels your body tighten and the soft rock of your hips as a gentle, soft, feminine moan escapes from your lips. He tilts his head as he watches your eyes flutter from the contact - the sight of you, your smell, your soft skin, your sounds - it all makes him wish he’d been human all along. 

He pushes his fingers inside of you suddenly, pulling a sharp gasp from your lips. You push your hips forward and let your mouth go slack again as your eyes close to slits. He pulls his fingers out slowly, then delves back inside of you, hooking them as he starts to stroke your slick muscles. 

Your body jerks gently as you grunt, your sounds husky and full. He keeps your chin in the palm of his hand, his fingers pressing into your cheeks as he stares down at you. He licks your mouth - over your chin and lips, up to the tip of your nose before he tongues the roof of your mouth, groaning as lust ripples through his body. 

He kisses you suddenly. Hard. Hungry. You moan into his mouth before breaking the kiss to hiss and groan from his pumping fingers. You roll your hips into his hand as your head falls forward, squeezing your muscles around him to add more pressure. 

He pulls out of you suddenly, whipping you back around and slamming you into the wall. You hold yourself up with your hands, spreading your fingers out on the wall as your chest heaves with anticipation. He pops your button and fly and pushes the thick material down to your knees as you push your ass back into him. You slide your hand to your clit, massaging yourself with the tips of your fingers as you hear him fumble with his own pants. 

His hands are back on your hips, his nails digging into your thick flesh as he slams into you. You jolt forward, moaning loudly as he starts to fuck into you hard - the sound of his skin slapping against your bouncing off the walls around you. You slam your eyes closed as you lunge forward with each thrust, your fingers still working your swollen clit. 

Bucky works your shirt up over your breasts before he pulls at the cups of your bra, freeing your bouncing tits. He cups them, then tweaks your thick, hard nipples before he wraps his large hand around your throat. He squeezes, tightening your airway as he rams into you from behind. Your fingers still push along your clit, slapping at the sensitive bud before you rub it as hard and fast as you can. 

He feels different - thicker than before. His cock seems to pulse while inside of you, filling up every inch of space your cunt has to offer. You can feel the blood coursing through the thick vein that runs the length of his cock - feel the thick, sticky cum bubbling from his slit. He pushes his cum deep; each thrust spilling more of his luxuriant seed into you. His sex is hot - the sheer heat radiating from every inch of him makes sweat pop along your skin. His fingers start to burn you again and you cry out in pain as burns mark your flesh.

You feel the pull in the pit of your stomach, the pressure starting to build as your body tightens intuitively. Bucky curls his fingers over your shoulders as he feels your pussy start to squeeze down on him and pulls you harder back into him. His eyes fall to your ass as your flesh jiggles with each thrust. 

You close your eyes again and let your head fall, bracing for the impending orgasm that threatens to consume your body. Small ripples of it flash through you, making you tense suddenly. Bucky’s fingers cover yours to help you massage your clit until you’re a shivering, shrieking mess. 

You cum all around his rigid cock. You’re loud - panting and moaning as you thrust back into him, releasing more waves of your long overdue release throughout your body. Your clit convulses, jumping with each contraction of your cunt, your muscles tensing and squeezing around him.

Bucky continues to slam into you, each stroke coming harder and faster than the last until a low, animalistic growl rumbles through his chest. Your wet muscles coax his orgasm right out of him, pulling more ribbons of cum from his slit as he ruts into you. He fills you up, so much so that he spills back out of you, making a mess of your already quivering, wet thighs. He grips your flesh so hard as he fucks into you, small bruises form instantly on your hips. 

He pumps into you one last time and holds still, wiggling his hips to push himself deeper into your sex as his cock continues to spit. You tighten your muscles, holding him in, feeling each spurt, each jump, each pulse of his cock until your orgasm recedes back into the depths of your body. 

You keep your eyes closed as your breath rushes, your heart racing. Bucky pulls out of you unceremoniously, slapping his dick against the inside of your thigh before he plunges his fingers back inside of you quickly. 

He then shoves them in his mouth, moaning as your familiar taste explodes on his taste buds, “Bucky has good taste.” He chuckles, slapping your ass before he tucks himself back into his jeans. 

You’re not sure what you feel right in this moment. Shame? Regret? Excitement? Relief? It’s a foreign feeling - whatever it is. One that maybe you used to know, but can’t really put your finger on now. Living through an apocalypse will do that to you. It humbles you. It breaks you down to the bare minimum of what you are; makes you shed everything unnecessary - like shame, regret, excitement, and relief. 

You pull your jeans back up over your hips and turn to face the demon in front of you. You lean against the wall and watch as he pulls another cigarette from his pocket and lights it with the fire he conjures at the tips of his fingers. 

“Feel better now?” He asks after a few minutes, “Maybe you can let me be.”

“I don’t believe you.” You say calmly, blinking at him.

He rolls his eyes as he expels a puff of smoke through his nostrils and lips, “What don’t you believe, darling?”

“You can give him back to me.”

He scoffs, walking right up to you again. He presses his forehead to yours, pushing until your head rests against the wall behind you. He taps on your temple with his index finger slowly, his yellow eyes bouncing between yours, “Your Bucky is gone. Get it through that thick skull of yours.”

“I don’t believe you.” You whisper, defying his every word. 

He leans back, smiling in pity of you, “Why not?”

“Because I told her so, Azazel.”

You both snap your heads toward the new voice. Bucky grabs you and pulls you in front of him as he backs his way into the center of the room. He peers over your shoulder at the tall, blonde man as he moves slowly into the room, the tips of his long, gloriously white wings dragging on the ground behind him. 

Your chest starts to heave again as Bucky grips your bicep hard as he continues to back up, his eyes squinted as he tries to make out the face of the unknown man. You can feel when it clicks for him. His grip lessens just slightly, he straightens up, he lets out a breath.

“Michael.”

The blonde man smiles gently, “It’s Steve down here.”

Bucky snarls as he keeps you pressed to his front, “These human names are ridiculous, aren’t they?”

“I don’t know,” Steve shrugs, “I kinda like Steve.”

“You would,” Bucky chuckles, “How are you, brother? It’s been a long time.”

Steve smiles again, his brilliant blue eyes sparkling underneath the moonlight spilling in from the broken windows, “I’m well. I miss you, we all do.”

“I miss you too, Michael.” Bucky answers earnestly, “I do, I mean that.”

“Then come home.” Bucky starts to speak, but Steve holds up his hand, “You can help us end this. Return her fiancé to her, and help us set this right.”

Bucky scoffs, “And ruin all the fun? I don’t think so. I quite like being bad.” He curls his fingers around your neck again, kissing your cheek as he starts to sway with you back and forth, “You should try it. It’s fun - freeing, if you will.”

“This isn’t fun, Azazel. People dying isn’t a game.”

Bucky groans as he rolls his eyes dramatically, “Can you fucking lighten up? Jesus.”

“Azazel,” Steve starts.

“It’s Bucky up here,” he mocks, wrapping his arm around your waist, “Isn’t it, sweet thing?”

Steve steps a little closer, “Talk to me, please. This isn’t about her.”

“This isn’t about her?” he laughs, “You used her, Michael, to get to me, and now it’s not about her?”

“I didn’t use her. You’re my brother, I can feel you, we all can.”

“We, we, we,” Bucky shouts, tightening his grip around you, “So, you’re all here, hm?”

“Yes.” Steve answers calmly, “Gabriel, Uriel - we all came to help.”

“Oh yes, because you love these repugnant creatures so fucking much, right?” Bucky shouts back, a sudden anger flashing through him as he gestures towards you, “Right?!”

Your heart rate quickens as you stare at Steve, watching as he stays as cool as a cucumber, “Yes.” Steve responds softly, “I do. I love them. We’re supposed to love them, Azazel.”

“They’re disgusting!” Bucky seethes behind you, “Humans lie, they cheat, they steal, they kill! They turn on each other like animals, they desecrate their bodies -” he grabs your chin and pushes it upward gruffy, causing you to hiss in pain, “This one just let me fuck her knowing exactly what I am,” he takes a long pause, “And you still believe they deserve our love?” He finishes, his voice barely above a whisper.

Steve dips his head, but smiles and lets out a small laugh, “I’m not saying they’re smart.”

He drops his hand from your chin and turns his head to the side, staring at the opposite wall. His body is tense, the heat of his anger radiating through every pore of his skin, “We gave him our undivided attention - unconditional love and devotion, and he chose them over us every single time. That doesn’t make you angry?” He hisses lowly, his voice wavering just slightly, “It doesn’t make you want to see them suffer? After everything he’s done for them, how much he loves them and for what? Just for them to turn their backs on him.”

“That’s not for us to decide, Azazel.” Steve says, his voice still gentle, still calm, not wanting to agitate him anymore, “You know what’s happening here is wrong. This is not our playground. If they destroy themselves, then so be it, but we can’t make that happen, especially out of spite.”

“Spite? Oh,” Bucky laughs again, shaking his head, “This isn’t spite, this is full on hatred. I loved him,” he spits, venom dripping from every word, “I loved him more than anything, more than anyone - and he cast me aside that I was nothing.”

“You were proud, Azazel.” Steve says firmly, taking a step towards him, “Too proud, too bold. You started to question him, he had no choice but to cast you out.”

“Bullshit!” Bucky shouts loudly, “He could have just loved me the way he loves these filthy humans.”

Steve closes his eyes, “You can still come home.”

“I don’t want to come home. I told you, I like it here.” He seethes, his voice low in your ear, licking your cheek with his hot tongue to antagonize Steve. 

“Bucky was a good man,” you say softly, your voice shaking as you try to reason with him, “You know that, you can feel it, I know you can. That’s why you don’t hurt me. You can’t - he’s too good, and you can’t control it.”

You feel his eyes on you and the anger still brimming underneath his surface. He drags his fingernails along your cheek before he cups your chin again, “Thanks for the swell time, baby girl.”

“Wait,” you say, trying to turn to face him, “Wait, please. Just listen to Steve, we’re not trying to-“

You blink, and he’s gone. You turn and let out a sigh as you stare into the dark warehouse. 

Steve moves up beside you, placing his hand on your shoulder and rubbing softly, “Are you alright?”

You blink again, a numbness coming over you, “Yeah.” You say after a minute or two.

“You…” his words fall away as he tries to make his question as delicate as possible, “You mated with him?”

Your mouth falls open, but you shut it after a few seconds tick by, not having any sort of come back, “Please don’t, Steve.”

“That wasn’t part of the plan.”

“I realize that,” you sigh again, “Thank you. I just got… caught up. It’s - you wouldn’t understand. It’s been awhile.”

He rolls his eyes, his wings swishing behind him, “For all that is in the world, the lust of the flesh and the lust of the eyes and the boastful pride of life, is not from the Father, but is from the world.” He quotes, shaking his head softly. 

You pinch the bridge of your nose and close your eyes, sighing lightly, “Not now, okay? Please.”

“For while we were in the flesh, the sinful passions, which were aroused by the Law, were at work in the members of our body to bear fruit for death.”

“Steve!” 

“I’m sorry,” he says quietly, bowing his head, spitting out a quick prayer for you before he centers himself, “Did you get it?”

You hold out your hand. In the center of your palm sits the silver chain that was once around Bucky’s neck and the discarded butt of his cigarette. The apocalypse teaches you all sorts of tricks - like slipping a chain off of a demon’s neck while he argues with an archangel. Steve grabs them from you, bringing them to his nose to sniff them quickly, “These will be perfect. Now come, you need to wash the sin off of you.” 

“God, you’re annoying.” You groan. Steve cuts his eyes toward you again as he presses his lips together in a hard line. You throw your hands up, “Sorry, sorry, sorry. Jes- I mean… fuck, sorry.” 

He sighs heavily, “You’re lucky I like you.”

You laugh a little as the two of you start to move back through the building, “I’m sorry, this is just,”

“It’s a lot, I know. But hey,” he grabs your wrist, stopping you so you’ll face him, “We’re gonna get your Bucky back. We just have to get this back to Gabriel and Uriel and we’ll have everything we need to summon Azazel to us and remove him from the vessel.” 

“He’s not a vessel,” you correct quickly, “He’s a person, he had a life. His name is Bucky.”

Steve notes the emotion in your voice, “I’m sorry. Bucky, we’ll remove him from Bucky. This will work, I promise you.”

You nod slowly as you let him pull you into a hug, “I believe you.” 

He knows deep down that you don’t - not really - not yet, anyway.

He’s determined to make a believer of you. 

[thecagedsong]

Forgotten Light Chapter 16: Djinni

A/N: Posting this now so I don’t accidentally go back on my word and post the Tess chapter. Seth is up to Shenanagains of the life-threatening sort, just as he ought to be. Baby tries so hard.

1 / 2 / 3 / 4 / 5 / 6 / 7 / 8 / 9 / 10 / 11 / 12 / 13 / 14 / 15 / 16

Chapter 15: Djinni

           Unfortunately, they could not leave that afternoon to investigate the poisoned pool like was planned, as the Triclops didn’t give them an opportunity. It spent the whole afternoon and evening swinging an uprooted tree back and forth around the confines of their little sanctuary.

           “All right,” Seth said, that night, “Need a new plan.”

           “The plan is to get some sleep and try again in the morning. This island is big, he’ll go somewhere else eventually,” Warren said, rubbing his eyes, “You’re on Fablehaven’s timezone, right? No way you aren’t exhausted.”

           “But the longer we wait to get a good look at the pool, the more likely we lose our clues,” Seth pleaded.

           “Believe us Seth,” Vanessa said, “We know and we don’t like this. If it is still there in the morning, we’ll change the plan so that Warren and I act as decoys, luring the triclops away so your group can investigate. Preserves are too dangerous at night if it can be avoided.”

           “Maybe too dangerous for you,” Seth scoffed.

           “I understand your frustration,” Vanessa said, “I love Kendra too, and at least she knows that you are her brother. I will not face her having lost her brother, the only one she knows even a little bit, to preventable dangers. Sleep. I have potions for you if you need it.”

           Seth looked behind her to Warren, who gave him a warning look that his arguing was at an end. He looked back at Vanessa’s dark eyes and firm set features.

           “Fine,” Seth said. “I’ll take a sleeping potion, but not one that knocks me out completely.”

           “More of a drowsy solution, I promise,” Vanessa said, going to her dufflebag. She mixed some powders and fruit juice, and held it out, “It will not work right away, so you can get back to your room, even if you drink it now.”

           Seth tilted his head, “Hey, if you controlled me in my sleep, could you use my shadowcharmer abilities? Shadewalking, speaking to the undead, that kind of stuff?”

           Vanessa didn’t answer until he drank the potion, then said, “I do not know. I have controlled wizards and felt their magical cores, but without their knowledge of spellcraft, I was unable to use their magic. Magic is not for the use of mortals. The best comparison would have been controlling Kendra, but her mind was protected, and I could not seize her. I would have to re-bite you and attempt, as Bracken broke off our previous connection. I could not attempt to guess, Seth, and I won’t experiment with you. If your abilities are needed, I trust you to use them well, as I hope you trust me to keep you safe during the attempt.”

           “That’s actually really touching, I’m touched Vanessa,” Seth said, holding a hand over his heart, “I must be the most unique thing you aren’t interested in biting.”

           Vanessa rolled her eyes, “I have bitten creatures of the dark, and they all taste nasty. Creature of the shadows, and teenage boy? That is a very easy pass.”

           “You actually taste people when you bite them?” Seth asked, “Who tasted the best? Was it Kendra? I bet it was Kendra. I bit her once when we were kids.”

           “And we’re done with that conversation,” Warren said, stopping Vanessa from answering. “Forever. Off to bed before the drowsy hits, scoot.”

           “What? You don’t want to know if you tasted better or worse than—” Vanessa started teasing, and Seth was quick to back out of that conversation. Fourteen years old, and he did not need to know biting preferences for Vanessa, and how her boyfriend ranked.

           Seth fell asleep, and woke up to the moon hitting his face, almost blinding. He felt refreshed and awake, not a hint of drowsy. It was rare he woke up like this, normally Kendra was awake first. Seth sat up. Or, he tried too, but sleeping in a hammock made sitting up a test of abdominal muscles. He rolled out of his hammock, took note that Tanu was sleeping across from him, Calvin wrapped up in a handkerchief for a blanket on the windowsill, and Seth quietly made his way out of the hut.

           He wandered until he realized that the whispers of the undead were getting louder. Then he walked with a purpose up spiral stairs and across rope bridges he stopped before a door carved into what had to be the biggest tree in existence. It felt like the Blackwell, though a little less desperate. Instead of suffering pleas, there were questions about directions.

           Left here, and again…or was it right?

           A thousand repetitions of this circle should get me out…

           Does wandering endlessly truly break up the monotony of eternal existence?

           “I see…this is what it means to be a shadow charmer,” Savani’s voice broke his listening, and he saw the woman step onto the platform behind him.

           “Yep, walking around in the middle of the night to figure out where the undead are,” Seth said. “And your excuse?”

           Savani held up a bracelet of three large shells and several smaller shells, “We have three caretaker homes at this preserve, each designed to better weather certain seasons. This is the winter quarter, even though I should have welcomed you in the spring mansion. This bracelet alerts me whenever someone or something approaches one of the prisons at any of the homes, and will transport me to interfere. I assume you were not planning on releasing these entities.”

           “No, just wanted to know where they are,” Seth said, looking back at the door, “They sound different than most of the undead. Like they’re…wandering. They think they are going somewhere.”

           “The spirits here are trapped by a maze, just as much as they are by the barrier,” Savani said. “My people learned how to draw unwanted entities into certain designs, tricking them into wandering those corridors rather than through the village. It is a complicated magic, but one that does not require a wizard if you have the right blood and soul.”

           “So like, at least they get puzzle books with their prison sentence, I approve,” Seth said, “They sound a little less miserable than the undead usually do.”

           “Are you familiar with Djinni?” Savani asked.

           “Genies?” Seth said, the name sounding familiar, “A little. My other Grandma tried to make a deal with one, it got to ask her three questions she had to answer truthfully. When she refused to answer one, the Genie turned her into a chicken.”

           “I lost one of my staff to similar circumstances concerning the Djinni that rests just inside this door. A spirit that wandered here from the mainland; they were not so easily trapped by our mazes, but fell remarkably easily to four walls,” she said, thinking, “My sister, Alma, engaged in the question game, three for three, taking turns, and learned that the sunset pearl had been taken off the preserve before Djinni asked how to unweave spirit mazes and she refused to answer.”

           “They only know about stuff inside the preserve right?” Seth asked.

           “Only when asked can she gain access to her sight, which extends to past and a little into the future,” Savani said. “My sister’s remaining questions that she could not ask were about who took the sunset pearl, and the location of the Weki flute that soothes the triclops.”

           “I can go in and ask her,” Seth volunteered.

           Savani laughed, “I could never ask you to go in with so little preparation!”

           “Seems to me everyone fails at the game because they had too much preparation,” Seth said. “You need to let your non-local idiot walk in with absolutely no preparation. I don’t know anything about this preserve or what might free her. Sure I know some secrets, but nothing that would help her get free. And it’s just information. She can’t ask me to do things for her, right?”

           “The young always risk their lives for so little,” Savani said, shaking her with a quiet laugh. “Even if I were willing to lose another ally to that monster after losing my sister, something I’m sure you understand, none of your protectors would let you go over them.”

           “That’s why we do it here and now,” Seth said, “I’ve negotiated with tougher customers than this. I’ve talked down both the Totem Wall and the Singing Sisters. And I convinced a centaur to let me ride on his back. I’m pretty talented at walking away from these things.”

           “That is impressive,” Savani said, “But even with those dangerous consultations in your past, our situation is not so risky. And wandering towards the most secure prison at night alone does not convince me that you have the discipline to converse with this creature. Any word out of your mouth that is not the answer the answer to her question after you enter her chamber is a lie and gives her freedom to leave. You strike me as the sarcastic sort, and that will get you killed.”

           “Yeah, some of my wraith friends didn’t get my jokes either,” Seth said, remembering Whiner. “I suppose knock-knock jokes are out?”

           “Most definitely,” Savani said, “You are refreshing to speak to. Much like Warren, but less burdened. Does the chill of this dungeon not bother you?”

           “Chill?” Seth asked, looking around, “It’s been ridiculously hot since we got here. It finally feels nice.”

           “The unnatural dread make many fail to converse with the Djinni,” Savani said thoughtfully. “After speaking, I am a bit more inclined to let you try with the Djinni, and hold back my assent almost solely on the rifts I do not wish to cause with the rest of our allies. Should the triclops still haunt us when they awake, I will allow you to present this plan as an option to them.”

           “Sounds like permission to me,” Seth said. He spun and grasped the door handle. In that touch, he found himself on the opposite side of door. Apparently just touching the doorknob was enough to get a mortal inside the prison, though he was willing to bet it would take the caretaker to get out. There was a single door to his right, and beyond that a spiral staircase covered with woven mats of crazy designs. He felt the presence of wraiths and the undead just before him, and it took a bit to figure out that they were trapped inside the mats.

           Then a phantom stumbled up the stairs, and he realized not all of them were trapped in mats. Just to his left was a door with another handle and no hinges.

           Expecting it this time, Seth reached out and grasped the handle.

           “Oh? Two visitors so close together after a century of silence,” the Djinni said. “A baby shadow charmer, no less. I assume you are here to play my riddle game like that last one.”

           The Djinni was surprisingly pretty. Usually Kendra got the pretty ones, and he got the cool ones who were half skeleton half putrid guts. The flowing pink dress threw him for a second. But she had white skin, red eyes, and choppy blue hair. Her skin was smooth, except for the bags under her eyes, and her hair looked like it could use a good washing.

           Seth nodded to the Djinni’s question.

Then he breathed in, and a hand came up over his mouth to stop him from gagging. His eyes left the Djinni  to the ground next to her, covered partially by her cloak. For some reason, when Savani said her sister had been killed by the Djinni, he had never imagined what had happened to her sister’s body. This wasn’t like the zombie farm, or even when Coulter died in his arms. The body was weeks decayed. Skin and organs were liquifying and leeking over the floor, bones starting to jut out on the ribcage and he could only be glad he couldn’t see Savanni’s sister’s face.

           “I have a fondness for little adventurers,” the Djinni said with a rosy smile, watching him watch the body. She even threw in a casual caress of her last victim. “I will recite the rules for you if you nod now.”

           Seth nodded, suddenly regretting everything. He made himself focus on the Djinni.

           “Very well, my rules are simple,” she said, standing up but still leaning against the wall of her prison cell, “You may only speak the answers to my questions and questions of your own. You have as much time as you need to answer. Should you speak else, I may extract a price from you for disturbing me, and as you can see, it includes killing you. Should you speak a lie, I am freed from my prison and will enjoy wrecking the meager protections left to this house on my way out. My sight it limited to this preserve, but it extends to everywhere in this preserve and all the way through the past, and twenty-eight days into the future. You may indicate you are unsatisfied with my answer, but may not ask follow-up questions, I can do the same. Upon being satisfied with my final answer, you will be teleported out of my diminutive abode. Nod if you are ready to begin, little adventurer.”

           Simple rules. Follow the rules, and they can’t touch you. He would just have to think through his answers before speaking. Despite what Kendra says, he can think before talking. At least, that’s what Kendra used to say, and probably wouldn’t take long to say again. Seth nodded and made himself remove his hands and accept the smell. The smell wasn’t worse than the zombie farm, even if the body was.

           “Then I, Skamboli, ask this for my first question: what are the ways out of my confinement that you know about?” she asked.

           Seth thought for a minute, going over each way he thought might work.

           “I only know a few,” Seth said slowly, “if I tell a lie, you are free. I assume that if the caretaker released you, you could go free. I don’t know for sure, but I assume if someone busted down your door from the outside, you would probably be freed. Burned the tree prison down, though you might die that way. And…a trained shadow charmer, not me, could probably unlock your door. People have told me that once I learn control over my powers, I can undo locks, but I don’t know how yet.”

           Skamboli waited, but nothing happened. “Very honest, I approve. Though a wiser adventurer would not volunteer information about their weaknesses. You may ask your first question.”

           Better ask Savani’s questions first. “Who took the sunset pearl?”

           Her red eyes flashed white for a second then went back to red. “The dark unicorn goes by many names, but you know him as Ronodin. He stole the pearl on his first visit to this sanctuary.”

           That was bad and good. Bad, because Ronodin likely put it where he was keeping Kendra, on the Phantom Island, but good because it narrowed their goals and they were already working on getting to the Phantom Isle anyway. Maybe he could use the horn to send a message to Bracken to pick up the pearl on his way out with Kendra?

           Seth nodded at the Djinni, hopefully indicating he was satisfied with her answer. Not looking at the body. She never said he could verbally say if he was satisfied, just dis-satisfied, and didn’t want to risk it. He didn’t want to talk more than he had to.

           “Is there any questions I could ask that you would be unwilling to answer?” Skamboli said. This was the question that left grandma laying eggs for months.

           Again, Seth thought carefully.

           “Plenty of things I wouldn’t want to answer,” Seth decided, “Embarrassing moments, secrets about our plans against the dragons in the upcoming dragon war that I promised not to share, too much information about my friends and family. Secrets that would result in my death if I shared them with you due to other promises I have made. Really don’t want to share that one, it wouldn’t benefit you at all and would end up with me dead. That one is about my dealings with the Singing Sisters, and wouldn’t interest you at all, so please don’t ask that one. But I would share any of it, if you asked, because I need to take the answers to my questions back to my friends.”

           Skamboli waited, then nodded at Seth. Seth hesitated for a moment, because the name of the flute Savani mentioned five minutes ago was already lost from his head. He needed a minute to carefully pick his words.

           “Where is the magic flute that can soothe the currently rampaging triclops?” Seth asked at last.

           Again, her eyes flashed a blinding white.

           “The Weki flute is buried amongst the treasure of the Fairy Queen’s shrine on this island,” Skamboli said.

           Uggh, normally they left the fairy shrine stuff to Kendra, though the Fairy King might let him take something from there. Or maybe getting Fairy Struck Tess to ask would be better. Still, much better news than the flute being lost forever. Seth nodded.

           “What would convince you to free me from my prison, little adventurer?” she asked, sounding tired.

           Seth had not expected that question. What would convince him to free a dangerous being? He took longer to think through his answer to this one than any other. The smell and taste of the last life she had taken all around him, so much worse than the zombie farm.

           “A sincere and binding promise to never hurt another sentient being again,” Seth said, at last, and his eyes finally went back to the body. He saw the swollen, distorted face of Savani’s sister, and knew he wouldn’t ever forget it. “But from everything I know, that is against your very nature and an impossible promise to keep.” He looked away and back at her, “Still, if you were able to convince me you’d do that? I’d do my best to help you. I would do my best to convince Savani that you won’t attack her, help find a nice new lair for you somewhere on this preserve. You could have been a lot meaner, a lot stricter and done more to trip me up, but you didn’t, which makes me like you. I have been double crossed a lot in my life though, so I refuse to free you on anything less than a perfect, binding promise.”

           Skamboli waited, then nodded, a small smile on her lips. Now it was time for the real reason he had jumped into this encounter, the information that would make it all worth it. He thought over his question a couple of times, looking for loopholes or ways to get more information out of it, and asked.

           “Where will my sister Kendra be on the preserve in the next twenty-eight days?”

           Again, her eyes flashed white, though this time they softened slowly back to their red. “The future is not certain, but many futures show Kendra at this preserve in 77 hours and making her way to the sacred pool. She will venture into the domain of a wraith, then leave. It grows hazier, but Kendra will also visit the Bridge Cove, then Baga Lao sometime after that. Leaving Baga Lao, she does not return within the time of my sight.”

           Kendra. Here. Seth almost said something, almost said thank you, then stopped himself with a snap of his jaw. He nodded.

           “That concludes my little game. Congrats, you are the first to pass without retribution in a while. You are right, I cannot promise not to harm in exchange for my freedom. Still, this has been quite entertaining, and in Jighandi even. You have goodness in you, little adventurer, try not to die too quickly on this preserve.”

           Seth was transported out. Savani was standing in the little hallway, arms folded, when he appeared. She grabbed him by the shoulder and turned him towards the exit

           Savani forcibly shoved him out of the prison, where Grandma was waiting for him.

           “So, good news, I wisely used my resources and found out vital information on where Kendra is going to be, as well as the sunset pearl and the flute to stop the triclops” Seth said. “Bad news, I’m going to throw up.”

           Seth rushed to the edge of the platform and started heaving, losing the dinner he had eaten.

           “I understand now what Ruth and Stan warned me when letting you out of my sight,” Grandma Larsen said, putting a hand on his back. “Of all the trouble I was watching out for, you purposefully going to chat up a djinni never even crossed my mind.”

           Tears leaked out of his eyes as he threw up some more. It was horrible, he’d thought that after everything, after regularly conversing with the undead for years, after seeing so many people die, he would never loose his stomach over something like a dead body. But the smell…

           …he gagged some more, even though there was nothing left. He was sticky and gross and the humidity made it feel like the vomit was sticking to him more than he knew it was. Eventually a glass of water was offered, and he used it to rinse his mouth. He nodded his thanks at Savani, and accepted the wet towel as well.

           His breathing evened out and he said, “For Kendra. I did it for Kendra.”

           “Seth, you are part of a team now,” Grandma said, “And you aren’t leading things here like you were back at Wyrmroost. We work together, or not at all. Savani told you she didn’t want you to speak to the Djinni, and you disregarded her. This is her home, hers to protect, and you violated that trust. How is what you did any different than Knox going into the dungeons with Tess to check out the barrel?”

           “Savani said the only reason she didn’t want me to talk to the Djinni was that she worried about setting off everyone’s ‘protect Seth’ sensors,” Seth said, not looking her in the eye, “I thought I figured it out, but you’re right, I didn’t know, I wasn’t ready. It’s what I thought I had to do, and I’m sorry.” Savani’s sister’s body flashed in his mind again, the way Skamboli stroked sagging flesh, and he pressed his face into the towel.

He was stronger and braver than this. He was. He had proved it over and over, and he’d seen people die. He’d seen his sister poison herself into a frothing, empty shell. He’d seen battle wounds from the battle of Zzyzx.

This shouldn’t be worse than that, but it was.

           Grandma sighed and rubbed his back. “What happened? Tell me.”

           “It’s nothing,” Seth said, pulling himself to his feet. “Nothing I haven’t seen before. It just…I wasn’t prepared. I promise I won’t act on my own again.”

           “That is not the answer to my question,” Grandma scolded, standing as well, “I don’t care about how Ruth and Stan let you run about and keep secrets, and I don’t care about what you’ve seen before. We are going to confront a demon for training tomorrow, and you have been unsettled and you have been reckless, so we are going to talk until I trust that you can handle what’s going to happen.”

           “It doesn’t matter if I talk about it or not,” Seth said, “We need to get me trained so I can get to the Phantom Isle, and we need to do it fast. I can handle a demon, I won’t lose it like that again.”

           “Seth, Honey,” Grandma said, and she pulled him into a hug he resisted, “Even those of us who have done dangerous missions on magical preserves our entire lives need people to talk to. People to trust. Time to break down. Mortals aren’t meant for the kind of exposure you and your sister have been through. Special abilities or not. Talk to me.”

           “It’s nothing, I mean it,” Seth said, and his eyes found Savani over Grandma’s shoulders, who had been watching patiently the entire time. “It wasn’t worse than seeing Kendra’s stingbulb kill herself, and I got through that, so I’m okay.”

           “Shadow charmers have a reputation,” Savani said quietly, “Of moving and operating in the dark, with demons who seal their secrets sworn in blood. I would recommend  letting things come to light, if you can. If you are trying to spare me, I think I have guessed what unsettled you. I had hoped this Djinni to favor the clean and quick kill, but we knew the consequences.”

           “I’m sorry,” Seth said, hoping she understood the extent of his apology.

           “Ahh,” Grandma said releasing him, “Death. You have dealt far too much with loved ones and friends dying for your age, and you have dealt much with those long dead, the process in between is…unpleasant, unsettling.”

           “It smelled really bad,” Seth admitted, closing his eyes and seeing the body all over again. “Worse than the zombie farm. I don’t know how I breathed, much less talked. It was just…everywhere in that small cell. I won’t try something like that again, not without a lot more preparation and talking it out with everyone.”

           Savani said nothing for a long moment, “You make raising my own son look easy, Seth Sorenson. I believe your sincere desires, though it will take a while for me to trust your restraint. Gloria, remain by Seth’s side for the remainder of his stay here. He does not understand our magic, and while that saved him from knowing anything that could help the Djinni, it also made him dangerous to the integrity of the Woven Prison.”

           “That is acceptable,” Grandma said.

           Savani sighed, and shook her head, “That being said, the information you gathered is invaluable and I am also in your debt for asking. I was listening at the door and recorded everything. We will work on securing the flute, preparing for Ronodin’s return, and locating the Sunset Pearl. We will have much to discuss when the rest of our companions awake.”

Grandma nodded, “I agree, come Seth. There is still three hours until dawn, and we need what rest we can, even if sleep is gone. You will be sleeping in my room from now on.”

           Seth winced, but it was hardly the worst punishment he could have gotten. Probably better than he should have gotten. The women turned to leave.

           Seth went to the room his Grandmother had been using, to laid down in the second bed, while Grandma Larsen curled up in hers. No more hammock after tonight. He thought he had been past his impulse issues. He had been careful at Wyrmroost to not take unnecessary risks, to consult Kendra in most things, and he had felt good. Like he had learned his lesson and finally grown into someone worth trusting with important stuff.

           Now it felt like he was back to square one. Back to being the dumb kid that captured fairies overnight and trusted demons.

           Seth missed his sister.

[tofadeawayagain]

Create for Thra, Day 2: Original Characters (Post 2 of 2)

And now for my “baby gelfs”. I’m very nervous about introducing these to the wider world, so hopefully you all like them :). Once again, these babies are from my Maudra series. I can’t draw, and as such I don’t have any art to share - I hope you enjoy these little word sketches and the short excerpt from a piece I’m working on at the end.

Elidi – Drenchen

Elidi is the eldest daughter of Maudra Naia and Amri. She is the perfect combination of her parents. Her skin is like her mother’s, deep green with a hint of gold. Her eyes are bright blue with gold flecks – in the dark, her pupils get just as large as her father’s, rendering her iris nearly unnoticeable. During the day, her pupils are only slightly larger than a daylighter’s – it’s enough to make her sensitive to light, though, and she often wears clothing with hoods to drape over her head when the three suns are at their highest point. Her hair reaches to the middle of her thighs and is done in the traditional style of the Drenchen maudren with decorated locks and beaded braids. It is silvery-white just like her father’s, except for the streaks of deep Drenchen blue and a lighter Grottan teal. She is petite. She inherits her wings from her father’s side of the family, though they are black, purple, and indigo just like her mother’s. Elidi is cautious – though she is fierce just like her mother, she also has her father’s tendency to investigate her circumstances before charging into them. She doesn’t trust immediately, and she has a knack for reading people’s emotions and seeing through any artifice. Elidi studies vliyaya and healing with her mother and Aunt Eliona in addition to preparing to be the next Drenchen maudra. She is an extroverted introvert and prefers to spend time with family and close friends wherever possible. Although she is good in front of a crowd, being in the spotlight fills her with a nervous energy. Luckily for her, she looks less like she’s nervous and more like she’s on the prowl when she fidgets. The clan knows her to be a competent healer and leader and trusts her in her position as second-in-command to Maudra Naia.

Oria – Drenchen

Oria is Naia and Amri’s second child and is two trine younger than Elidi. She’s only a few inches shorter than her father. She inherited her intensity and her Drenchen wings from her mother, but the rest of her is all Grottan. Oria’s hair is the same silvery-white as her father’s. The humidity in Sog makes her hair slightly wavy, but by mid-day, it is almost always straight and heavy. She keeps it long, though not as long as Elidi’s, and she only keeps a few braids in her hair as a marker of her status. As her father’s star apothecary and alchemy apprentice, Oria can usually be found in the workshop, her hair messy and tied back away from her face, and goggles strapped over her eyes. Her eyes are bright gold, and her gaze is so sharp that she can intimidate people easily. Like her sister, her pupils can expand and contract depending on the ambient light. She doesn’t look much like either one of her parents, but she is a spitting image for Amri’s mother. Though she inherited her wings from Naia’s side of the family, they are a bright teal blue and glistening silver. With high cheekbones and skin that is closer to gray than green, Oria’s unique looks in the swamp of Sog make her stand out – and she loves it. While her older sister is uncomfortable in the spotlight, Oria lives for it. She’s the life of every room, and she wears her emotions on her sleeve. People know where they stand with Oria – she doesn’t wait for the invocation of hard-talk to express her feelings. She loves the water, and if she’s not in the workshop, she’s likely exploring the lakes and waterways of Sog. Oria is likely to get herself into trouble at any opportunity, and she treats rules more like guidelines. She is fiercely competitive with her younger brother, and though she is happy in her chosen career, she longs to see the world – but she can’t leave the swamp. No one can.

Zain – Drenchen

Zain is Naia and Amri’s third child and is only one trine younger than Oria. Zain is mostly deaf (except for low tones like thunder), and he uses the Dousan sign language to communicate. He is a carbon copy of his father, and during his younger years, he even wore the same hairstyle. As a young adult, he changes his style, shaving both sides of his head and keeping the rest secured back in a braided tail or bun. Zain’s skills with healing vliyaya rival those of his oldest sister, and he trains alongside her to become an advanced healer. Like Oria, he is extroverted; however, he keeps his emotions on lockdown. He values his family above all else, and though he is fiercely competitive with Oria, they have an intensely close bond. He also has a close bond with his baby sister, Zenna, and is the one Elidi goes to for advice due to his level head and calm demeanor.

Shiri – Grottan

Shiri is Deet and Rian’s second child. She was born only months before Oria, and they grew up as the best of friends. Shiri is very shy and doesn’t make new friends easily – as such, her circle is very small. Shiri’s childhood is marked by periods during which her mother is overwhelmed by grief at the loss of Shiri’s older brother, Jen. Shiri never gets the chance to know him, but she feels like she is always in his shadow. Though she is raised to follow in her mother’s footsteps as the next Grottan maudra, Shiri isn’t sure she wants to be a maudra at all. She’s got an ear for music, and she’d much rather become a song teller. She learns to play her father’s old lute in her spare time. Shiri’s got Rian’s tan skin and blue coloring, but she has Deet’s messy hair and long ears. Her eyes can adjust to the ambient light, and they are a deep blue color like her father’s. Her hair is a dirty brown with streaks of Stonewood blue, and her wings have the characteristic bright blue and orange coloring common among the Stonewood. She is the same height as her mother, and she’s quiet most of the time – unless she’s singing, that is.

Koa – Sifa

Koa’s parents are both Drenchen; however, they left Sog long ago to join the Sifa. Koa grew up on white sand beaches and on the decks of ships, but he’s always wanted to see the mainland and explore the swamps where his parents grew up. Koa is tall for a Gelfling, and he’s also bulky from his days manning the sails and loading/unloading cargo. He’s got Drenchen locks, but they are covered with Sifan bells and golden trinkets. As a young adult, Koa gets a job working on Elder Onica’s ship, which docks in Sog’s port city of Seaside, only a day’s kayaking distance from the Great Smerth.

Zenna – Drenchen

Zenna is Naia and Amri’s youngest child. Born ten trine after Zain, she is the baby of the family. She looks like her mother, though her eyes are Amri’s dark honey brown. Like her Uncle Gurjin, she is usually unruffled and steady of temperament. Though she isn’t yet sure what she wants to become, she knows she loves the ocean.

 And now, an excerpt from mah girl Elidi’s POV:

“She watches the ripples on the surface above as she drifts in the current. The water is cool along her neck, crisp in a way she isn’t yet used to. She knows the concept of cold, though she’s never felt it herself before. The water isn’t cold, yet, but it has certainly changed.

The rains have not stopped for three days. The waters surrounding Great Smerth have long-since spilled over the edges of the Glenfoot, and the islands Elidi grew up knowing have vanished beneath the surface of the swollen lake. It is almost as if they never existed at all. Like her people, they are hidden away, waiting for the storm to pass.

Has it passed? She looks at the line of crystal embedded in the bluestone on the lakebed. Though the vein went clear three days ago when the suns burned as one, Elidi still hasn’t touched it. She doesn’t think she ever will. She tried once when she was a childling. Her mother had been nearby and tugged her away. Naia had clung to her when they’d surfaced, and she’d shouted at Elidi as she never had before or since. She hadn’t been angry – she’d been terrified. It’s a sound that’s never left her. 

There is a great splash at the edge of the Glenfoot, and Elidi rights herself in the water column as her sister plunges to the very bottom of the lake. Oria’s at her side with two pumps of her wings, and she raises her hand immediately. Elidi presses her palm to Ori’s, and her sister’s anxious voice fills her mind.

They’re waiting for you in Mum’s chamber. They’ve been telling everyone that we need to leave Great Smerth.

Elidi’s brow wrinkles, and she looks past the ripples at the towering heights of her home. Her mother’s balcony is only three levels up. She’s accustomed to seeing her mother standing there, proud and wild. But the balcony is empty, save for the wind and the rain and stray apeknot leaves knocked loose in the deluge.

We’re not leaving Great Smerth. It’s just a bit of rain. Elidi kicks for the surface, and Ori stays with her, hand in hand.

Aunt Pemma is with them. She’s trying to keep them from starting a panic. She thinks we’re fine here in Smerth, but she wants to evacuate New Domrak.

Have they found Deet, yet?

Oria pulls her hand away. Her expression is all the answer Elidi needs, and the two girls continue to the surface surrounded only by the muffled silence of the water.

They glide over the submerged Glenfoot and toward the stairs that lead into the Great Smerth. Elidi plants her feet on the lowest stair and as soon as her head clears the water, her sense of peace is shattered. The glade is louder than she’s ever heard it. People are calling out to one another on the rope and wood pathways strung through the canopy above, and as Gelfling move their belongings out of the residences on the ground floor, the Stone’s Way echoes in a cacophony of anxiety.

She takes a deep, steadying breath, and then she climbs the staircase, exiting the lake and entering the great tree. She keeps her head high, attempting to project a sense of confidence that she doesn’t feel. When will Mother come back? she asks herself. Perhaps they’ll stop panicking when Mother comes back…

Oria remains at her side, only one step behind, all the way to the third floor landing. Elidi can hear the council members bickering all the way in the hall, and she exchanges a frustrated glance with her sister before entering the room.

She stands tall and says nothing until they all look at her and come to a silence. It’s something her mother taught her long ago, and with her short stature, it’s a technique she depends on to gain attention. Her Aunt Pemma gives her a firm nod of approval, and she can feel Oria standing behind her, tall and firm. She’ll hug her sister and her aunt later. For now, she has a job to do.

She catches every eye in the room, then raises a single eyebrow. “Which of you are responsible for all this huff-puff, then?”

[softieskywalker]

Vader sat on a tiny wooden chair, crouching his massive body close to the floor as he observed the small toys floating around the room. The TIE fighter plastic model, the plush tooka doll, and the clone trooper action figures danced around in circles. In the middle of them sat a blonde baby of around two years of age, laughing delightfully as he shook his short arms up and down, making the toys clash with each other in the air. 

It was amazing to see how natural it was for Luke to reach out with the Force. Children in the crèche took years to master what seemed an afterthought for Vader's little boy. Luke had taken a while to learn to talk, having spent his entire first year of life communicating his needs and desires through their bond. It was almost like the Living Force was his true language, and Luke had to translate everything to basic before speaking. 

Vader wondered if he would have been as naturally gifted if his mother hadn't spent his early years suppressing every sign of him being different, terrified of the consequences. He didn't blame her, she had only been looking out for their safety. 

“Be careful, Luke,” warned Vader in the gentlest voice he could get out through his vocal recorder, when one of the action figures floated too close to the baby’s forehead. 

Luke turned his attention to his father, his huge crystal blue eyes shining with joy, and extended his chubby arms in his direction. 

“Up, Daddy, up!” he demanded, and the toys fell to the ground as Luke lost interest in them.

Hating having to deny anything to his son, Vader shook his head slowly. 

“You know I can’t, little one.” 

Luke’s lower lip started to tremble, and Vader panicked at the perspective of tears. He picked up another plush doll from the ground, a bantha that showed to be very well loved by his owner, and waved it in the air. 

His son wasn’t so easily distracted. Luke crawled the distance between them and used his father's legs as support to stand up. 

"Up!" he insisted, more firmly this time. Vader was proud his son was confident when demanding what he wanted, but his heart broke every time he had to deny him of something as simple as being held. 

"You've been sick the past few days, Luke," he reminded him, knowing full well the baby could barely understand what it meant. "It's too risky for my health." 

Even if he didn't understand the reasons, Luke shared his father's uncanny abilities to read what feeling others projected. He couldn't understand what a compromised immune system was, but he could feel his father was sad. 

Vader watched with fondness as Luke frowned his little eyebrows together. Then he extended his little arms above his head.

"Hug!" 

 Vader smiled behind his mask. A hug would be as bad as holding him up, but Luke had found an alternative, and Vader didn't have the strength to deny his little angel any longer. 

He kneeled on the ground and hugged his baby boy close to his chestplate, relinquishing on the warmth that Luke's presence irradiated. His son was too small to return the hug fully, and grabbed his cape by the edges with his clumsy hands. 

The consecutive weeks spent inside his hyperbaric chamber fighting off a cold with what was left of his crippled lungs were worth the precious seconds Vader got to enjoy holding his son between his arms.

(small extract from wandering stars.)

[moonyswolfie]

Seer

Remus Lupin x Potter!reader

Warnings: panic attack, angst, mentions of death

“Harry, mama loves you. Dada loves you.”

“Lily, take Harry and go! It’s him! Go! Run! I’ll hold him off-“

“Sirius Black was – and remains to this day – Harry Potter’s godfather!”

“Not only did Black lead You-Know-Who to the Potters that night, but he also killed one of their friends, Peter Pettigrew.”

“The ones that love us never really leave us.”

“I can’t leave him!”

“Stay close to me.

Always.”

“The boy must die.”

“I don’t want your help!”

“I’m sorry, I never wanted any of you to die for me.”

“Nice one, James!”

“Avada Kedavra!”

The images were changing fast, too fast for you to piece them all together. You woke up with a scream, tears rolling down your cheeks, but you couldn’t open your eyes. You tried catching your breath, yet no intake of air seemed to be enough. When you opened your eyes, four boys were watching you with very worried expressions.

“Love, what’s wrong, what did you see?” Sirius asked, grabbing your hand gently and moving his thumb in small, soothing circles on the back of it. You couldn’t answer it though, as you were in the middle of a panic attack.

You felt Remus’ arm wrap around your waist, bringing you closer to him in an attempt to calm you. You buried your head in the crook of his neck while squeezing Sirius’ hand , trying to regulate your breathing enough to reassure your friends.  You couldn’t, after all, tell them what you’ve seen. It was against the law and they knew it.

“N-nothing. I just- I’m sorry I woke you guys. Just a bad dream, s’all.” you said, voice still shaky from the visions.

“That was more than a bad dream, Y/N! You saw something, how bad was it?” James asked, losing his patience. He was worried, they all were.  

You turned towards your twin brother, but you couldn’t meet his gaze.

“Deadly” you whispered.

You started having visions before you came to Hogwarts, and not all of them were bad. Back then you’d have very few and far away, but as you grew older, they came more often. You’d have them at all times of day, but most of them during the night, usually waking you (and your roommates) up.

Since you started dating Remus, you spent more nights in the boys’ dormitory and while they assured you that they weren’t bothered by you, just crazy worried, you still felt bad when you woke them in the middle of the night. Like now.

James sighed and raised from his kneeling position on the floor, kissing your forehead and going back to his bed, Sirius following quickly after he kissed the top of your head. You smiled at the gestures, they were the best brothers you could ever ask for.

The last to rise from the foot of the bed was Peter, who gave you a small smile that you didn’t return. You couldn’t, not after everything you’ve seen tonight.

*

It pained you, to keep quiet all these years, but you knew that sharing this knowledge would only make things worse. It was a warning that both Dumbledore and McGonagall gave you that night, when you slipped out of the boys’ dormitory and went to seek their wisdom.

“Miss Potter, what are you doing out of bed at this time of night?” McGonagall asked, rather surprised to find you knocking on her office door.

She took in your current state, the tears now dried on your cheeks, the hand you were constantly dragging through your hair and your eyes, showing your conflicted mind.

“I need your advice, Professor.” you never came to her before regarding your visions, despite her constantly assuring you that her door was always open. “I saw something, tonight, and I…I don’t know what to do. I know I can’t tell them, but how could I let it happen?”  

You buried your face in your hands, shaking your head as if trying to get rid of the images that were plaguing your mind. McGonagall raised from her seat behind her desk and approached you, placing a hand gently on your shoulder.

“Come, dear, I believe this is a conversation that Professor Dumbledore should be a part of.”

You nodded and walked slowly towards the Headmaster’s office.

Yet watching it all unfold now, you couldn’t sit and do nothing.

“James, a word?” Sirius asked, dragging your brother out of the room.

You closed your eyes and took in a long breath of air, exhaling softly a moment later. You couldn’t. you shouldn’t. And yet…

You sprinted down the hall and pushed open the door of the small bedroom, interrupting James and Sirius mid-conversation. They both looked at you, confused expressions gracing their features.

“Don’t. Please, don’t make Peter the secret keeper.” you uttered between gulps of air.

James’ expression turned from confused to surprised, then slightly annoyed.

“Look, Y/N, I don’t know how you found out about this, but the decision has been made. I know you don’t like Wormtail all that much, but he is our friend.”

“That’s what I’m trying to tell you, James! He isn’t your friend and he cannot be trusted!” you yelled.

“What on earth are you talking about?” Sirius inquired.

“I...I can’t talk about it, you just have to trust me on this, please.” you tried again, to which your brother only rolled his eyes.

“It’s safer that way, Y/N. Voldemort expects us to make Sirius the secret keeper, which will cause the best distraction. He’ll never know who the real secret keeper is. It’s a sound plan, sister.”

“Then make me the secret keeper. Keep up your charade, tell everyone what you will, but choose me. You know I can be trusted.” you begged.

“No, we can’t risk your life like that.” Sirius said and his tone suggested the decision was final.

You had only one option left, consequences be damned.

“I had a vision, James. I saw it happening, I saw you dead, that’s how I know about your stupid plan.” you said, looking him straight in the eye.

James sighed and that’s when you knew. He didn’t believe you.

“Visions can change, you said so yourself.”

“Yes, if the person in cause changes their mind!” you retorted.

“Y/N, Sirius and I have a lot to discuss. Leave us, please.”

You left the room and closed the door behind you, almost knocking into your boyfriend on your way back to the living room. He took your hand and led you to the chamber the two of you shared.

“I take it he didn’t listen?” Remus asked, pulling you to his chest when he saw the tears streaming down your cheeks.

You shook your head and held onto him tight.

“Tell me what you saw, darling.” he whispered, kissing the crown of your head.

And you did. Remus listened to your every word and tried his best to fight back his tears when you told him of your friends’ deaths.

“He doesn’t believe me, Remus. He thinks the visions change all the time but they don’t.”

“I’ll talk to him later, try to convince him to change his mind.”

You nodded, but you knew he won’t succeed. Once your brother made up his mind, there was no changing it.

*

You nearly fainted when you heard the news. Dumbledore had sent an owl to yours and Remus’ house, bearing the news.

They survived. James, Lily and Harry, they were all alive and well.

James trusted you. He believed you. You didn’t know how Remus convinced him, but what you knew was that your brother was alive, that he and Lily would get to raise their beautiful son together and that Harry will grow up surrounded by love.

You were clutching the letter to your chest, stained with tears of relief, while your other hand was making soothing circles over your baby bump, when your husband joined you on the living room couch.

“My love, what’s wrong? Is it the baby?” Remus asked, worry written all over his face. As your due date was nearing, the baby grew more restless, which worried him immensely.

“No, the baby’s fine, my dear. Here, Dumbledore sent news.” you handed him the letter.

You saw the relief taking over his handsome features as he read, and let out a small laugh. Then, he seemed to remember something.

“But what about the vision?”

“They can change only if the person changes their mind. I don’t know how you convinced James to reconsider, but thank you, Remus.”

“I didn’t, Y/N. He told me there was no going back when I spoke to him, that it was all done.”

A screech broke the sudden silence, as an owl entered through the kitchen window and delivered a letter into your lap. You opened up the envelope, smiling at the sight of James’ messy handwriting.

I’m sorry I had to keep you in the dark, sister,

but I had too much to lose to risk sharing my plan.

I’ve always believed in you, my favourite fortune teller.

Your loving brother, James

You smiled at the nickname he used to call you when you were kids and your visions were still so new. It always bothered you back then, but you were happier than ever reading it now.

“I say we should pay them a visit soon, what do you think?” Remus asked, having read the small note over your shoulder.

“It’s settled then.” you agreed, leaning into him and placing a kiss to his lips.