#most precious worrier

[michyeosseo]

i am crying, she also wants to cry

[mcdynamite]

Eddie always tries to be as quiet as he can when he gets home from late shifts at the bar – holding his keys tightly so they don’t jangle too much and avoiding turning on lights if he can help it. Steve is usually asleep by the time he makes it home smelling of greasy bar food and whatever beer blew its keg that evening all over his uniform tee, and Eddie hates waking him. His boyfriend doesn’t get much sleep as it is. The last thing he needs is for Eddie to come tumbling through the door and interrupting the precious few hours he gets every night.

So every time Eddie gets home from work in the earliest hours of the new day, he tries to be as quiet as possible.

And every time, Steve wakes up anyways.

Contrary to what most people might assume, it’s actually not Eddie’s fault that Steve can never sleep through his homecomings. (Years of living in a thin-walled trailer with a man who worked nights and slept during the days made him a master of moving stealthily through his home, after all.) It’s just that Steve Harrington is the lightest sleeper who’s ever lived.

According to Steve, he wasn’t always this way – he used to sleep through alarm clocks and his mother banging on his bedroom door to get him up for school, when he was younger. No, the light sleeper thing didn’t start until after Steve learned that monsters were real, and it only got worse after Upside Down Part 2: Electric Boogaloo, when suddenly he had a whole troupe of children to worry about all night. Every little creak of the floorboards could be a demogorgon, or a preteen in need of help fighting off a pack of demodogs. Faint police sirens in the distance could be headed to Steve’s house, where some uniformed cop would come knock on the door and tell him that something had happened to one of the kids.

It sounds like a nightmare, in Eddie’s opinion – not being able to sleep more than a handful of hours a night – but Steve always shrugs it off, like he’s already gotten so used to it that he hardly notices it anymore, and Eddie thinks that might be the case. It makes him feel horribly guilty (and maybe a little sad) whenever Eddie is the cause of Steve’s late-night wakefulness, but despite his desire for his boyfriend to get the sleep he needs, Eddie can never quite force himself to be too upset whenever Steve stirs as Eddie tiptoes into their shared bedroom.

Because sleepy Steve Harrington is, frankly, infuriatingly adorable, and tonight is no exception.

He hears, rather than sees, Steve wake up in the darkness of their room. It starts with a little snuffle, then a rustling of bedsheets, and finally – like always – a gravelly, endearingly hopeful, “Eds?”

Eddie’s heart warms in his chest, melting away the ice left there by a long shift dealing with drunk idiots and coworkers who would rather bitch about their jobs than actually do them. His job is exhausting at the best of times, and downright soul-sucking at the worst, but it’s okay, because at least at the end of the day, he gets to come home to this.

“Hey, sweetheart,” he sighs tiredly, ignoring the part of him that balks at being foiled again in his quest to let Steve get some sleep. Carefully, he toes off his shoes and makes his way to the edge of the bed so he can brush a few messy strands of hair from Steve’s forehead.

Steve instantly tilts his head to press into the touch, and Eddie can’t help but smile. “Wha’time s’it?” Steve slurs.

Eddie glances at the clock on their bedside table and nearly winces when he sees just how late it is. “Almost two,” he murmurs guiltily. He can see Steve’s mouth turn down into a frown now that his eyes have adjusted to the lack of light.

“S’late,” Steve mumbles. He rolls onto his side and reaches blindly for Eddie, hand eventually wrapping around Eddie’s bony wrist and squeezing gently in a mostly subconscious show of sympathy. His eyes blink open – bleary and unfocused – and scan over Eddie’s face. “Everything ‘kay?” Even half-asleep, he’s a worrier. Eddie finds it both endearing and a little heartbreaking.

He smiles, despite himself, and begins to card his fingers through Steve’s sleep-mussed hair, an unbearably fond feeling settling in his belly when Steve lets his eyes flutter shut again. “Yeah, sweetheart, everything’s fine,” he assures his tired boyfriend. “Just a long night. Pacers game a few blocks down, y’know? Spent a whole extra hour after close catching up on bar dishes.”

Steve furrows his brow and makes a discontented noise. “Gross,” he mutters, and Eddie huffs out a laugh. God, he is so stupidly in love with this beautiful, bitchy man.

“Very,” he hums in agreement.

“Y’should come to bed,” Steve says, and his voice is almost whiny, just like it always is when he tries to coax Eddie into their bed without a proper shower. He does it almost every night, and it almost never works. It’s certainly not going to work tonight, with Eddie smelling of shitty beer and grease.

“In a bit,” Eddie sighs, bending to press a kiss to Steve’s temple. “Gotta shower first.”

Steve properly whines at that, petulantly mumbling something incoherent.

“Baby, I’m covered in Miller and fryer grease. Do you really want me getting that shit all over our pillowcases?” Eddie says fondly.

“I want you to come cuddle with me,” Steve grumbles.

It takes more effort than is probably reasonable for Eddie to stifle the cackle threatening to burst from his chest. “In a few minutes, ‘kay? Just gonna go wash off real quick, and then I’ll come cuddle, you needy little bastard.”

“You’d better,” Steve says not at all threateningly. Eddie just laughs and kisses his forehead again before dragging himself away and into their little apartment bathroom for a quick shower. There’s a ninety percent chance Steve will be asleep again by the time Eddie makes it into bed, in ten minutes, so he can’t really bring himself to feel too guilty.

Still, true to his word, he showers quickly – rinsing all of the greasy smell out of his hair and scrubbing the spilled beer from his skin. He uses the bergamot soap Steve got him for Christmas, because he knows Steve likes it, and Eddie likes when Steve likes things. (And he’ll never admit this, but he doesn’t hate the smell of bergamot, either.)

When he’s finished, he quickly towels himself off and slips on the pair of plaid boxers Steve left out on the bathroom counter for him earlier (just one of those little, caring things that Steve does every day that make Eddie love him all the more). He plaits his wet curls so he doesn’t wake up with hair worse than Doc from Back to the Future, then he finally, finally, makes his way to bed.

Steve’s breathing is a slow, steady rhythm, but the way he instantly shifts closer to Eddie the moment he climbs into bed is a clear indicator that he hasn’t quite managed to fall back to sleep yet. Eddie has hardly had a chance to pull the covers up before Steve is pushing back into him, silently demanding the safety of his arms.

Eddie is all too happy to oblige.

It’s automatic and achingly familiar when Eddie rolls onto his side and wraps his arms around Steve, pulling his boyfriend close so Steve’s back is pressed to his front. Even then, it doesn’t seem to be close enough for Steve, who wiggles back even further until it nearly becomes impossible to tell where he ends and Eddie begins. It’s so disgustingly sweet that Eddie sort of wants to cry. Instead, he buries his nose in the crook of Steve’s neck and leaves a soft kiss just behind his ear.

“Hi, baby,” Eddie breathes as Steve rests one of his hands atop the one Eddie has tucked under his side and laces their fingers together. He leans forward slightly to kiss Steve’s cheek, just because he can, and before he can pull away to settle against the pillow, Steve turns his head to capture Eddie’s lips in a soft, barely-there kiss. The kind of kiss that instantly settles even the most frantic parts of Eddie’s soul.

“Hey,” Steve murmurs, lips still brushing together, and Eddie can both hear and feel the way his mouth has curved upwards into a smile. Eddie gives him one more peck on the lips before they both fall into their pillows again. “Missed you,” Steve whispers. It makes Eddie smile and shake his head with tired amusement.

“Missed you, too,” he whispers, even though it’s only been ten or so hours since they last saw each other. Christ, when did he become such a goddamn sap?

(He knows the answer to that question, obviously. Eddie “The Freak” became Eddie “The Sap” the first time Steve Harrington looked at him with that secret little smile on his face – the one he reserves for Eddie and Eddie alone, these days. The one that silently says, I love you.)

Steve hums contentedly and snuggles deeper into Eddie. God, he’s so fucking sweet like this. Eddie loves him so fucking much.

“Go back to sleep, sweetheart,” Eddie says softly, moving his free hand to run his fingers through Steve’s hair, because he knows it helps his baby sleep.

Steve’s voice is already sleepy again when he murmurs, “’kay,” and then, even softer: “Love you.”

Eddie smiles. Holds Steve just a little bit tighter. Gives Steve’s hand an extra little squeeze and marvels at the fact that after everything – after murder accusations and monsters and government payouts and three fucking years as a senior at Hawkins High – he gets to have this. And sure, maybe he’s feeling a little extra sappy because of the simple ring he’s got buried in his guitar case – the one Robin helped him pick out just a few days ago, even though they can’t technically get married in the state of Indiana. Maybe that’s why he smiles a bit wider tonight with Steve in his arms…why his heart thumps a bit harder at every sleepy snuffle his boyfriend makes…

But the sappiness stopped bothering him a long time ago, when his sharpest edges were sanded out by the presence of the little family he found in the aftermath of the Upside Down, so Eddie doesn’t mind. Soon, he’ll be able to fall asleep next to his fiancé, instead of his boyfriend. They’ll get to call all of their adoptive rugrats and tell them the news, and Steve will be beaming so brightly it might just blind him. And it’ll be perfect.

For now, Eddie just lets himself sink into the warmth of having Steve Harrington in his arms.

And he sleeps.

This is for @steddie-week Day 5: Established Relationship. Just a little ficlet that popped into my head at literally 2 in the morning. I hope y'all enjoy!

[wafflesex]

Have a doodle of mama Leech because I still can't decide how I want her to look!! ✨

Also have some headcanons I created for her just because:

Name: Viridia Leech Age: younger than she looks Height: ~7ft in human form, ~14ft in mermaid form Likes: her family, negotiating, high fashion, spontaneity Dislikes: shrimp Appearance: Elegant, charismatic, but by no means delicate, she is a gorgeous mermaid with olive eyes and long, wavy teal hair. As a human, she stands just under a half foot or so from her husband and prefers to wear long dresses, pant suits, and sun hats when on land. Her nails are always sharp and lacquered, her lips painted red, and on both ears is a pair of studded sturgeon scale earrings to match with her boys. Personality: Described as a bit of a worrier, Jade and Floyd's mother keeps in contact with her sons every day while they are on land. Her messages are often brief (except on birthdays) and in her refined manner of speaking, she even refers to her sons as "Mr. Jade" and "Mr. Floyd" (for security purposes). It is clear she misses Jade and Floyd dearly and frets over their well-being, though of course she has every reason to given the nature of their family's work. To Viridia, her children are her "treasures"; every bit as rare and precious as the gems they were named after (fluorite and jadeite, respectively). There is absolutely nothing she won't do to ensure not only their survival, but also their happiness. She notoriously spoils them with luxurious gifts, expensive clothes, and fancy accessories the likes of which most merfolk never see. To that end, Viridia is a fiercely protective mother and while she trusts her son's abilities, she won't hesitate to rip apart anyone who dares to lay a hand on them.

Similar to Jade, Viridia's kind exterior belies her manipulative nature; she is excellent in communicating and connecting with people and therefore adept at learning their weaknesses. Sterling, her husband, often relies on his wife's approachable demeanor when handling his most complicated clients. Patient and poised, she acts with the precision of a surgical razor to get what she wants.

[starlightsuffered]

Separation Anxiety

Info - anxiety ridden fem, married couple, worried about death, pregnant reader, oral fixation, mentions of cocks/orgasms, sucking a man’s nipples, ass patting for comfort, fingering, possessiveness, separation anxiety

“Paullll,” I gasped. I was so happy he’d come back after his latest mission. I fell to my knees in relief.

I had always been a worrier, being pregnant had only increased this fear. Every time Paul left me I was a complete mess the week before. I needed him constantly with me. I hung off his arm, I pulled him into corners to kiss him tearfully. I always had to be on his dick. I wanted to cock warm him all the time.

I was so happy that he didn’t mind. He dealt well with my incessant coddling and obsession. I was utterly smitten with him. I was so glad our marriage had been arranged. We had a connection at first meeting.

“My love,” he swooned and gathered me into his arms. I finally could breathe comfortably because he was back and safe.

“Oh dear, surely you weren’t that worried,” he chuckled gently, holding my face and brushing his thumbs over my cheeks. Tears streamed down my face.

“Of course I was, Paul Atreides,” I said almost harshly. I felt hurt he could even assume I wasn’t.

“Baby doll, don’t I always come back safe?” He asked.

“That doesn’t mean something couldn’t go terrible wrong,” I sobbed. I pressed my forehead to his chest and I fisted his shirt and let my emotion out.

“I think about you constantly. I worry my child will grow up without a father. I worry I will lose the most precious thing in my life. I just, I just-“

“Come on baby, you need your special thing,” he soothed.

“I do,” I agreed. I fretted with my fingers, leftover anxiety making me tremble. He led me into our sleeping quarters. He shed his still suit.

He went and cleaned himself in the showers while I undressed myself. I rubbed my swollen belly. I was so happy I was the one to bear the Atreides heir. I would be invaluable to Paul. He often reassured me he would never ever leave, but now it would be even harder.

Paul came out clean and sparkling. My husband’s cock was already hard. I was happy for that. He sat on the bed. He beckoned to me. I snuggled up in his arms.

He propped me up on some pillows. He showed me his pink nipple. I placed my hand on his chest, fingers splayed. I began to suckle on his nipple. His pec flexed as I lapped and moaned. I loved being close to him like this.

He comforted me by patting my ass. He sang a Fremen song in a low voice. Then he played with my hair. I closed my eyes and just drank in the atmosphere.

I focused on his smell, his feel, his taste, and his low voice that calmed all my fears. I thumbed his other nipple, so euphoric to be in his arms again.

“You’re my girl, and I’m safe,” he promised me.

Finally, after the ass patting and playing with my hair, he sunk his fingers into my pussy. He curled and pumped slowly as I sucked on his chest. He’d be a mosaic of hickeys after this, and I would take much pride in the marks. He was mine, and I loved it that way.

“So nice and tight, so wet, getting ready for my return,” he crooned.

“Yes Paul,” I shuddered.

“It’s okay my beloved, I’ll get you there. You just relax and know I’m here,” he pressed a kiss to my forehead. “It’s all okay.”

@pmak2002 @softhecreator r @plutoispurplw @sp1deyyf4ngz @seungcheol17daddy @jesschalamet @vvsdreaming

[tinytinyblogs]

Han As Your Boyfriend

Boyfriend

(n.) A person who 90% of the time annoy you, and 10% of the time makes you forget the 90%

Stray kids masterlist here

Han knows really well how to make you smile. He is always the one to crack a joke or tell a funny story, just to see you laugh. He knows that when you're feeling down, a smile is the best medicine. He will never let you feel down. He will always be there for you, to listen to you vent or to just give you a hug. He knows that sometimes, all you need is someone to be there for you. He will be there when you need him. No matter what time of day or night, he will always be there for you. He knows that you can always count on him, and he will never let you down.

He is a perfect boyfriend. He will call his mom when you get sick, asking what he should do. He will get you everything you need and stay with you until you feel better. He knows that you are his priority. When you are sick, he puts your needs first. He will do whatever it takes to make you feel better, even if it means calling his mom for advice. He is thoughtful and caring. He will get you everything you need, from soup to medicine to a warm blanket. He will even stay up with you all night if you need him to. He is patient and understanding. He knows that being sick is not fun, and he will be patient with you. He will not get frustrated if you are feeling irritable or if you need to cancel plans.

He will give you a morning kiss to start your day. He will wake you up with a soft kiss on the lips, and tell you how much he loves you. He will make you feel loved and cherished, and he will help you start your day off on the right foot. He will cuddle with you before you end your day. He will hold you close and tell you how much he loves you. He will make you feel safe and secure, and he will help you relax and unwind after a long day.

Even if he is busy, he will always send you a cute text. something like: 'Hey, beautiful! How's your day going? I'm so busy right now, but I wanted to check in and make sure you're doing okay. Don't forget to eat and take a break! I love you.' He will ask you about your day, remind you to eat and take a rest, and remind you that he loves you so much. He knows that you are important to him. He knows that you need to be taken care of, even when he is busy. He wants to make sure that you are happy and healthy.

He will worry about you all the time, even if you have already told him you are fine. He will think about you more than he thinks about himself, and he will always protect you no matter what. He is a natural worrier. He always thinks of the worst-case scenario, and he worries that something bad will happen to you. He knows that you are his most precious possession, and he will do whatever it takes to keep you safe. He is also very protective of you. He will always be there to watch over you, and he will never let anyone hurt you. He knows that you are capable of taking care of yourself, but he also knows that you need him.

He is the most supportive boyfriend anyone could ask for. He will be there to cheer you up and support you no matter what you want to do. He will make you feel like you are not alone, and he will believe in you no matter what. He will always be there to listen to you. He will listen to your dreams and your fears, and he will help you work through them. He will never judge you, and he will always be there for you. He will always be there to encourage you. He will tell you that you can do anything you set your mind to, and he will help you achieve your goals. He will never give up on you, and he will always be there to celebrate your successes. He is the perfect boyfriend for anyone who wants a supportive and encouraging partner. He will make you feel loved and cherished, and he will help you achieve your dreams.

Even though Han is usually cheerful, there are times when he can be very sensitive. This is because he is so caring and empathetic, and he takes on the problems of others as his own. He is always there to help you solve your problems, and he will do whatever it takes to make you happy. However, sometimes he forgets to take care of himself in the process. He may become withdrawn or irritable when he is feeling overwhelmed. He may also start to question his own worth, because he feels like he is not good enough to help you. He is just a human being who is trying his best to be there for you. If you see him starting to become sensitive, be patient with him and remind him that he is loved.

Over time, Han will realize that you are meant to be together. The more he is around you, the more comfortable he will feel, and he will learn to love himself. This is all thanks to you. You have been patient with him, and you have always been there for him. You have made him feel loved and appreciated, and you have helped him to see his own worth. As a result, Han will become more open and honest with you. He will be able to share his thoughts and feelings with you, and he will be able to be himself around you. You will both be happy together. You will make each other laugh, you will support each other through thick and thin, and you will always be there for each other.

How are you today? I hope you're doing well! I just wanted to check in and thank you for reading all the (sometimes) cringey stuff I've written. Yesterday was a bit of a mess for me, but today is going much better. I'm feeling refreshed and ready to tackle the day.

I've been going through some of my old posts, and I'm finding that they're a little cringe-worthy😭. I'm not sure if it's because I've changed as a person, or if my writing style has just evolved. Either way, I'm thinking about rewriting some of them. Anyway, thanks again for reading! I hope you have a great day.

[my-own-walker]

I'm so sorry for being so annoying but could you write another JPM where the reader's family comes to the hotel and maybe they are very loud and kinda criminals and telling stories of little reader hahahaha

I just love you and trying to keep you busy, darling🥰😊😂

How Soon Is Now?

note: heeeeerrreeee we go i'm writing again. also, how fun is this? lol. thanks for the request, darling!

summary: james finds out his sweet angel isn't so innocent after all.

warnings: talk of violence/murder, that’s really it

+++

James had always admired my purity.

I was something of an angel in his eyes. The light had finally entered the Hotel Cortez when I arrived.

Maybe it was the softness of my hair. My voice. The dresses I'd wear. The way I smiled. Maybe it came down to moments like the first time I tried his absinthe. The second the licorice-tasting liquid hit my tongue I was putty in his hands. Doe-eyed and complacent.

I liked to play up the pretty, girly aspects of myself to get his attention. I was his perfect little angel.

He was in love with the idea of a corruptable blank canvas.

I begged him to kill me. I did. Once the secret of the hotel was revealed, I suddenly felt a sense of belonging. Like I was meant to spend eternity in that dark, art-deco haven with the man of my dreams.

His transcontinental accent. The way he dressed. His chivalrous nature. He was a spitting image of my wildest fantasies.

He didn't understand my longing for a fate like his, but as his princess, I got what I wanted.

He made it quick and easy. Drugged, to preserve my beauty. I was to be his damsel in distress forever. His pretty princess living up in the tower.

Being dead, but also alive, came with its challenges. One of them being, namely, my family. They were worriers. They couldn't understand why I would up and leave my life to 'work' at some old hotel in LA.

The constant phone calls and messages became too much for me. I needed them to be able to see me in order for them to understand that I was happy where I was. That I was okay.

Obvious challenges came with that notion. James was all too happy to host them, though. Too happy.

He instructed every entity in the place to leave my family alone. He had Miss Evers prepare dinner and the most extravagant table setting she could muster. He even arranged a gold silk dress for me, topped off with a stunning string of heirloom pearls.

Everything was perfect. Until my family showed.

My parents and my three siblings made their way into the hotel rather…ungracefully. I told them to dress nicely. They did what they could, all things considered.

They, at their core, were rowdy, loud, and frankly insane.

The lineup was as follows: My father, Bruce, my mother, Margaret, or Marge, as she liked to be called, my twin older brothers Logan and Wyatt, and my older sister Ginger.

They couldn't make their way to James' suite without incident, of course. No. They had to walk in already arguing about...something. I'm not sure. It took both of my parents, with the assistance of Iris and Liz to get my brothers separated.

Upon stepping into the suite, I immediately heard a ‘it’s REALLY fuckin dark in here!’ from my sister. They really couldn’t find it within themselves to show a shred of decorum in a nice place.

I sat next to James at the dining room table, awaiting my family’s entrance. He sat at the head of the table, smile on his face. He was so excited to meet them. To understand more about his precious girl. He had his hand rested atop mine, eyes trained expectantly on the doorway.

Miss Evers’ figure appeared, then my father’s.

‘There’s my little girl!’ he shouted opening his arms for a hug.

‘Hi, daddy,’ I greeted with a warm smile, getting up from the table to hug him.

‘Wow, sweets, you look great,’ he said, admiring my outfit. Sweets was his nickname for me. My mother and sister filed in next.

‘What’s this, fuckin Halloween?’ my sister scoffed.

‘Nice to see you too, Ginger,’ I smiled. ‘Hi ma,’ I continued. 

‘Y/N!’ she exclaimed, jumping in the air. ‘There’s my little baby!!!’ She rushed over to me, making a point to pinch my cheeks. Logan and Wyatt made their appearance next, still arguing it seemed.

‘No, you dipshit it’s definitely a knife,’ Wyatt huffed.

‘You would use a fucking knife in that situation? Be serious right now,’ Logan replied, throwing his hands up.

‘Hey guys! Over here!’ I waved, reminding them they were arguing loudly in public.

‘Oh hey, Y/N,’ they replied in unison. That weird twin telepathy stuff.

We all took our seats at the table, my mother making sure she was sitting right next to me. She was the one who was most worried about me, after all. It was only fitting that she’d make sure I was okay by being closest to me all night.

James stood from his seat at the head of the table and the whole room turned their attention to him. He tended to have that effect.

‘Hello, Y/L/N family! Welcome to my hotel,’ he began. ‘I’m so happy to finally have you all here. My name is James Patrick March. And you all are?’

‘Marge,’ my mom smiled.

‘Uh, Bruce,’ my dad said, weirded out at the round-robin introduction James had begun.

‘I’m Ginger,’ my sister continued.

‘And they’re Logan and Wyatt,’ I answered for my brothers. They became embroiled in conversation as soon as my mother began speaking just seconds before. Easily distracted.

‘You all make such a beautiful family,’ James declared, sitting back down in his chair.

‘So uh, just to get this straight,’ my dad began, ‘you own this place?’

‘Mm, yes,’ James affirmed, taking a sip of his drink.

‘And you’re, what, to Y/N?’ my father continued to prod.

I couldn’t help but cut in. ‘We’re together, dad. Romantically.’ I knew James wouldn’t be able to put it into terms my family would get.

‘Her?!’ my sister scoffed.

‘Yeah, I can’t lie, I’m shocked,’ my dad laughed. I shot both of them the deadliest look my face could muster, but they continued.

‘She’s a grade-A psycho,’ Ginger said. ‘Y/N how’d you bag a classy guy like this?’ I hung my head in shame. I could have tried to stop them, but once they got going there was no going back.

‘You know, she’s a nice girl but our family is just, a bit unorthodox,’ my mom explained. ‘It’s just shocking to see her live in a place this…nice. And for her to be with someone, like you.’

‘Unorthodox? How’s that?’ James asked, smile still plastered on his face.

‘She started helping us with the, uh, family business, basically as soon as she was born,’ my mom continued. ‘She was a pretty scary kid.’

‘As she grew up she learned more and sort of, haha, became our little hitman. Didn’t you sweets?’ my dad added. I lifted my head and turned it to look at James. His eyes had lit up in a way I hadn’t seen before.

‘Yeah she’s the youngest but she’s the best at roughing people up,’ Ginger said, monotonously. ‘She killed her first at what? 6?’

‘No no, younger than that,’ my mom answered. ‘I think she was 4. It was that Goldberg guy, remember? Screwed dad out of 4 grand.’

‘Ohhhh, right!’ my dad said, laughing slightly. ‘My little killa.’ He looked at me with such pride. He meant it endearingly, but I was so embarrassed. The fact that they’d willingly offer this information without being asked made me sick to my stomach. What would James think of me?

‘This is news to me…’ James purred, taking my chin in his hand. ‘She’s been quite the angel here. I was entirely unaware of her background.’ He smiled warmly at me. His eyes had a fire behind them. Ideas were brewing.

‘Oh yeah James. She was a little Wednesday Addams,’ my mom laughed. I cringed, knowing he wouldn’t understand that reference. ‘Just a scary little girl.’

‘Come on, Y/N,’ Ginger taunted. ‘You should show your new boyfriend your mad murder skills.’

‘Oh yeah, sure. I’ll slice up a guy’s neck. You want it now?’ I asked, obviously sarcastic. The whole thing was getting on my nerves.

‘How soon is now?’ James chimed in. I turned my head suddenly and looked at him. He was deadly serious about the whole affair. He seemed…ecstatic. ‘Something can be arranged. I would love to see this, hidden talent, my dear.’ His eyes flashed with what I can only describe as lust.

‘James,’ I pleaded.

‘There was a guy in the hall that gave us a funny look earlier,’ Wyatt said, breaking his twin bubble with Logan. ‘You could kill him.’

‘Wyatt, I’m not gonna kill just anyone!’ I protested.

‘I’ll see to it that he’s brought here at once!’ James exclaimed, subsequently taking a large swig of his drink. ‘But first, Miss Evers! We’d like to have our meal now! We have business to attend to afterwards!’

My secret was out, and James was about to take full advantage of it.

+++

Haha! This was fun to write. Hopefully I’m over my horrible writers block now. Requests are back open so send em in!

[romanticatheartt]

your headcanons for Emorie?

ps: I really love them too🥹

Note: apologize to anon for taking long to answer them I'm so busy this semester :')

They're so precious to me😭❤️‍🩹 Both Mor and Em deserve something special and I think they can have that with each other<3

So here's my headcanon for these two (both as a couple and as characters):

So let's start with them being mates. Yes they're mates, I refuse anything else!! The author describes the bond as a blessing, as a deeper connection and her couples are mostly mates because she want them to have it all. So I won't tolerate anyone whining about so many mated couples. If you don't like it, don't read it simple as that. (sorry I got heated because this always annoys me lol)

They're a power couple. Mor is a very skilled worrier and before she came of age everyone could feel she's more powerful than the rest and above all, she's NC's third in command. Emerie is the first Illyrian female that is Carynthian and on top of that a Valkyrie.

In acosf, when the Valkyries were making friendship bracelet, Emerie uses green, purple and gold. Siphons have red, blue and green stones and I think Emerie is going to have green siphons. 5 of them to be exact.

And the gold can be a hint at Mor's hair color...

She's also going to have Illyrian tattoos.

Their mating vow is going to be some sort of bargain that is going to appear on the ring finger<3

Mor will try to find a way to heal Emerie's wigs since she's traveling through continent.

And when they're healed, Em will always takes her flying at night.

They're both so possessive but Mor is not subtle at all!

There's this one time an Illyrian male dares to get close to her to insult her in her face. Em is calm and doesn't react but when he abruptly stops talking, she can't help the smirk appearing on her lips.

Because her fierce mate is putting a sword on the idiot's throat and is that blood? yup it is

Emerie is taller than Mor but she's very shy & calm and Mor is her sunshine and energetic mate. Their dynamic has an undertone of sub/dom and we all know who's gonna be who!

At first Emerie is crushing so hard on Morrigan and she's oblivious but she'll catch up slowly.

Since Mor said she likes to join the Valkyries training these two are always in pairs. Mor teaches Em some of her skills and it involves so many touching and Em is so hot and bothered all the time because her crush is touching her elbow and waist!!

In acowar Feyre is so excited to be the matchmaker for Mor so imagine her surprise whenever Mor is talking about her training with the Valkyries, she mostly talks about Nesta's friend and she gets curious.

So she joins the training one day and observes the thing that's going on between these two and realizes she's not the only one, Nesta is sensing somethings too. So she gets to know she has a clothing shop...

She's like:

fey: OMG you don't have any Illyrian leather to wear to training? mor: I literally have several at my house. fey: No you don't, they're burned. Nyx was trying his autumn power and he burned them all. teehee :D nyx: *looking all confused while sucking his tumb* fey: You should totally visit Emerie's shop!! em: *blushing so hard* nes: *face palm*

She's going to be a menace like her mate. She's not that subtle like him tho lmao.

Their first kiss is going to be in the said shop. While Emerie is trying to help her with the ties of her gear.

When Em is not looking, Mor sees her in the mirror and for the first time notices how beautiful she is. Her glowing skin, how the sunlight is shining on her wavy hair and most of all her fulll lips. She also notices her flushed cheeks and heavy breathing.

She's the most beautiful female she has ever seen.

She's so overwhelmed and feels like if she doesn't kiss her right this second she'll compost. So she does.

And for both feels like the sunshine finally revealing herself to their world.

From there, their dynamic is full of teasing and flirting from Mor and blushing from Emerie.

They don't jump into a relationship. There's much to healing and mending for both of them but they'll get there eventually. (I'm not gonna bring the angst here this is just fluff!)

Recognizing their bond isn't a grand, big thing. One night they're at Rita and Mor is dancing on the dance floor and Em is looking at her from the corner of the bar.

Mor senses her burning stare and when they lock eyes, they know...

Feyre will be the one who plans their mating ceremony with the help of Nesta and Gwyn.

She always gloat about how she was the one who pushed them together and she claims it as her biggest success.

Mor might've teased her like the rest of IC if it wasn't true. If Feyre wasn't the one who burned her clothes (LMAO) it might've took them longer to reach where they are.

They would've found their way to each other nonetheless because they both feel that it was inevitable. They were destined to find one another.

They're going to be famous. The Morrigan, who fought two war (probably more at that stage of the book) and The very first female, who has the title of Carynthian...

Please if you have any other headcanon, you can share it with me<3

[pajarinwrites]

The Perfect Set 01

➳ fem!reader x Jacob

➳ wc: 4.8k

➳ TAGS: volleyball player!jacob, college!au, best friends to lovers

➳ WARNINGS: drinking?, slightly questionable comments about women's bodies (but our Jacob stops them before they get to finish the sentence :D)

➳ AN: omg wtf this took so long, and i kept pushing it back and then i realised it's scheduled for zhongqiujie/chuseok even and i wanted to write a little special for the holiday and i couldn't finish because i was editing this because i felt terrible that it took this fucking long to finish in the first place

also, sorry to lucas, i'm sure he drinks his respect women juice every morning

next | series masterlist | general masterlist

You could make out Jacob’s focused face from your position in the stands. No matter how many times you’d seen him before a match, you’d never grow tired of the expression he wore during warm-ups. The soft, lovely Jacob you’d known for most of your life suddenly seemed to become a whole different person. The kind of focus that shadowed his eyes and the intensity in his gaze reminded you again and again why the opposing team always seemed intimidated by his mere presence.

You watched him stride across the court, shaking hands with the opponent’s captain in front of the referee. Your heart swelled with pride once more as you remembered the team meeting at the beginning of the semester, where the players voted Jacob as their captain, unanimously. His expression had been incredulous and elated at the same, so very different from the one he was wearing right now. So very different from the one he had been wearing when he came climbing through your dorm window that night, close to tears in worry about not being able to fulfil his duties as captain.

He had big shoes to fill, true, Sangyeon had been a brilliant captain and wing spiker, but Jacob was going to be brilliant in his own right, in his own way. You told him as much, while holding him close and stroking his back lightly. He nodded solemnly against the column of your neck, opting to hold you a little closer in lieu of a verbal reply.

You’d like to hug him again now, tell him ‘see, didn’t I tell you, you’d be great?’. But you have to make do with simply waving your enormous banner and cheering him and his team on as loud as you could.

They win, of course they do. They haven’t done much else since the start of the semester. Largely due to Jacob’s tireless efforts at captain, the research that goes into the best warm-up and stretching routines, the extra hours working on stamina and reviewing game plans together. You’re there for all of it, where else would you be as his best friend? And he thanks you by giving you so much of his precious time, that he always had so little of, torn between responsibilities for his friend group, team, and university work. Not that you’re any less busy.

“You played brilliantly! Mrs. Oropeza would be so proud of you!” You great him in front of the changing rooms after the game. He hasn’t even showered yet, his bangs sticking to his forehead and his jersey sticking to his torso, in ways that leave little to your imagination. But his eyes are shining with happiness and with pride, and maybe a little bit with relief. That’s your Jacob, ever the worrier.

“Thanks! I flunked the toss in the first set to Juyeon. And I lost track off the court for a bit in the last. But the boys covered for my mistakes. I should practice my jump serve again, though. Im sure I can improve in terms of power.” You smile, listening to his excited explanations, his gaze still halfway on the court. Sometimes you wish there was something in your life you could be burning for so passionately.

“You’re always so hard on yourself.” He smiles at that, a familiar refrain. You’ve done this a million times after his matches, it always goes the same.

“Someone has to keep me in check. Especially now that I’m captain.”

“You should take more time to celebrate your achievements, though.”

“That’s what I’ve got you for, isn’t it?”

As if divinely timed, Juyeon sticks his head out the locker room door. His hair is drooping wet, droplets of water running down his neck before being soaked up by the towel he’d slung over his shoulders.

“Did I hear you speaking of celebrations?”

Maybe he was just eavesdropping, you decide.

“We’re gonna celebrate making it to quarter finals tonight. At Haknyeon’s at eight, you should join!”

“They’ve got better stuff to do than party with you knuckleheads,” Jacob jokes good-naturedly, “some of us care about our degree, you know.”

“I think your degree will survive one night of letting loose.”

“I whole-heartedly agree.”

“Great! So you can make sure our captain shows up for more than half an hour for once!”

“Get a shirt on!” Jacob exclaims, pushing his team mate back into the cabin. “Half naked! That’s no way to speak with a lady!”

“And where’s the lady?” You hear Juyeon chuckle at his own joke before the locker room door falls close behind the both of them. Jacob sticks his head out for another second.

“Will you wait for me?” He asks, as if this is the first game you’ve come to watch, as if you didn’t scream cheering slogans at the top of your lungs for one and a half hours, as if you aren’t wearing his name on your face, scribbled onto your cheeks with bright red lipstick. 

“Always,” you smile.

It takes Jacob all of fifteen minutes to come back out of the locker room. At this point most of his team mates have left, most of them stopping you chat with you. Other than the new first semesters, they’ve all come to know you as a permanent fixture in the extended team. Even though you reliably decline the offer to join the management, you make it to every game and most practices. Through Jacob’s friendship, you’ve picked up all terminology for the sport, and, through your constant support in research, you’ve gotten quite a thorough understanding of the tactics behind a play. Not to mention that you’re always front row when it comes to support and cheering. Juyeon high fives you as he leaves, reminding you of your promise to drag Jacob along to the team party.

“Who said anything about a promise?”

“If you actually get him to come, then I promise to get you free drinks all night.”

“Tempting,” you muse sarcastically but Juyeon seems to miss your tone.

“Yeah, it’ll be awesome, seriously. You two have really missed out on some great parties over the years!”

“The greatest part are usually the wonderfully embarrassing stories you tell of each other afterward. Plus the blackmail video proof.”

“And this time you can be a part of them!”

You’re not sure how to reply to the earnest expression on Juyeon’s face.

“Thanks, but I’ll stick to watching the blackmail.”

He only shrugs in response before sauntering off with one of the newer recruits for the team.

You spend your time scrolling through TikTok until a soft tap on your shoulder and the waft of a familiar aftershave alert you to the presence of your best friend. You look up, smiling, and are met with a similar expression on Jacob’s face.

“How about we go to your favourite café to celebrate?” He asks.

“Shouldn’t we go to your favourite place?”

“My favourite place is wherever you are.” He replies, as if it’s the most normal thing to say. 

You exhale unattractively through your nose as you two start walking in unison.

“Save your sappy pick-up lines for your girlfriend.”

“No girlfriend, as you know.”

“Alas, so you have to waste them on me.”

“I don’t think they’re wasted on you.”

“Ugh stop, you incorrigible flirt.”

“I’m not flirting.”

“So that’s why every girl I know has a crush on you.”

“They do?” You punched his arm at the excited expression on his face.

“Don’t let it get to your head.”

“Okay, okay, sorry.” Jacob laughed, rubbing his biceps where you hit him. “But don’t tell Juyeon. He’ll get sulky.” 

“Maybe you should give him flirt lessons?”

“I should. His idea of flirting is taking his shirt off.”

“Ah so he was flirting with me today,” you grinned sarcastically, looking over to your best friend. But instead of the expected teasing, you were met with a surprisingly serious expression.

“I think so. He’s been trying to show off for a while. Why else would he invite you to the party?” You were stunned into silence while Jacob held the door to your favourite café open.

“I thought he was just using me to get you to the party.” 

“That was just his excuse. He talks about you a lot.” You were floored at this new development, and your expression must have been betraying as much because one glance send Jacob into giggles.

“What’s with the disbelief? He’s not the first member to develop a crush on you.” You’re too preoccupied with sorting through all this new information to notice the way Jacob presses his lips together right after the statement, looking very much like someone who confessed something he’d rather not have.

“Anyway. What do you want? The usual?” You ignore his question in favour of returning to the can of worms he himself just opened. “So you’re saying that there are multiple of your team mates that are interested in me, right?”

Jacob groans, “I don’t know. Not right now, I guess. Juyeon was pretty clear about his… crush.” The words seem to pain him.

“But there have been several of your team mates interested in me?” You insist. He says nothing while studying the menu. You both know he won’t choose anything other than his regular iced americano anyway, so you nudge him none so gently.

“Don’t ignore me!”

“I’m not ignoring you! I just don’t know what to tell you. I guess, yeah, several. Over the years a few of them said stuff.” Jacob doesn’t turn around to face you during your conversation, opting to instead order for the both of you. You watch the barista being a little too touchy when giving him his change. She winks at Jacob. Your best friend really can’t go anywhere without being ogled. And you couldn’t be mad if you tried, you have eyes after all. Anyone, who’s ever exchanged more than three words with Jacob Bae, can tell that his kind demeanour, sparkling eyes, and fluffy hair are the stuff movies are made of. Heather here (as the name tag on her uniform informs you), seems to agree. As you cling onto your best friend’s biceps, she gives you a scalding glare.

“What stuff?” You ask. He finally faces you when the two of you make your way over to the pick-up counter. Jacob seems thoroughly unamused by your antics.

“I don’t know, dude. Just that you’re, like, cute or whatever,”

“Who said that?”

“Okay, time to change the topic,” he smiles.

“Why? Are you scared I’ll be mad when I find out what big, ole hunks of men you’ve been gate-keeping from me? What’s up with that, by the way? Are they all spineless or did you actually tell them not to ask me out?” His silence is answer enough.

“Jacob Bae! You are the reason none of your super hot athlete friends ask me on dates? What kind of best friend are you? Since when has this been going on?”

Jacob stews more in his silence but you decide not to let him get out of this particular question. He manages to hold out until you’ve both picked up your drinks and slid into your regular booth. Still avoiding eye contact like he could contract the plague from you he mutters ‘sincehighschoolorsomething’ in such a small voice that you have to lean forward and ask him to repeat himself.

“It’s not that I’m gate-keeping them from you!” He says in lieu of repeating his words, “If anything I’m gate-keeping you! You deserve better.” You heart flutters in your chest at the compliment, given in such a frank and matter-of-fact manner. Especially with how Jacob doesn’t even seem to notice how sweet his declaration was. He simply forges ahead in his explanation.

“You should see them, some of them can’t even wash their uniforms regularly. Do you remember Mark from algebra? I swear he didn’t even shower after every practice!” Jacob whines.

“Mark?” You near shout, the warm feeling behind your ribcage vaporising in a second from the surprise, “from algebra? Are you telling me it’s because of you that I couldn’t get a boyfriend in freshman or sophomore year of high school? And when I always encouraged all the girls that told me they had a crush on you, too!”

He blushes, “but girls are girls and boys are trash.” He says with such naïveté that you can’t help but laugh, all your righteous anger dissipating.

“That’s a valid point,” you concede between fits of laughter. “And, in all honesty, if you think they’re not good enough for me, then I trust your judgement.” You wink at him, but miss the way he flushes an even brighter shade of red as you take a sip of your drink.

“Anyway, the party tonight?”

“What about it?”

“Are you coming along of your own accord or do I have to drag you?”

He frowns, “But what about our victory tradition?”

You look at his petulant pout and cock an eyebrow. As important as your tradition is to both of you, you know that it’s also a convenient excuse. There’s a short staring contest between the two of you, but it’s clear that Jacob will cave first, as usual. He rolls his eyes as if there was important information printed on the inside of his skull.

“Fine! If you wanna go that bad, I’ll come along. I know that you can’t hold your liquor.”

“Awesome! You can pick me up later, I gotta go get ready.” You blow him a kiss that he pretends to bat away. “Be on time!”

“Maybe!” You reply, knowing full well you won’t.

You let Jacob into the tiny space that is your dorm room at seven fifty-five sharp, dressed in an oversized t-shirt that might have once been his.

“Is that my t-shirt?” He asks instead of a greeting.

“Who knows,” you reply getting back to your make-shift make-up station on the ground in front of your desk. Jacob plops down on your bed.

“Watch it,” you say, throwing him a piercing gaze through the mirror, “I was gonna wear that!” He gets back up immediately, looking at the mess on your bed.

“All… one, two… six of these dresses?” He asks.

“Don’t get smart with me. Obviously not. But I haven’t picked one yet. What do you think?” He takes a closer look at the heap of clothes and is immediately transported back to the last (and only) time that he helped you get ready for a party like this. He’d already been apprehensive that night, favouring a comfortable night-in with his best friend over a crowded, rowdy place of strangers. But the way your eyes lit up with the prospect of mingling made him cave, just like today. Of course, the party turned out less than ideal. So much so that it kept you from insisting taking him to another one for the better part of your university life. He should thank his lucky stars that it lasted this long. Jacob knows he could have refused you today. He could have insisted that he still felt uncomfortable, that parties simply weren’t his cup of tea. And you would have given in, easily and with the same smile as always, happy to spend the night lounging in one of your dorm rooms. Be that as it may, he also knows he couldn’t have said no to you even if it had cost him his arm. He just wants to see you happy, he thinks. And so he takes the red dress up first, ready to play stylist for you if it’s what you want. The dress pretty, but the neckline makes him a little nervous. Jacob puts it back down to look at one of the black ones instead. It glitters softly if he turns it in the light. He tries to gauge your reaction to any of the dresses by throwing a glance into the mirror but you’re completely engrossed in drawing a straight wing with your eyeliner.

It looks good, he thinks. And the glittery makeup would probably look really nice with the dress he’s holding right now. Just to be sure, he decides to take a look at the other three, holding up a dark blue piece and another black one (just how many of these do you own?).

“What do you think?” You say, directly next to his ear, and Jacob flinches, causing his shoulder to hit you in the jaw.

“Shit! Sorry!” He says but you’re only laughing. He gets temporarily blinded by the sparkle in your eye. Maybe you should cool it a little with the glittery make-up. He stutters, “Umm…”

“You good?”

“Shouldn’t I be asking you that?”

“It’s fine, Jake. Nothing a little plastic surgery couldn’t fix.” You’re rubbing your chin in such exaggerated suffering that he knows you’re fine. “I just need to know which dress I should wear so that we’re not even later than we already are.”

“Who’s fault is that?” He nags.

“Well, I would’ve hurried more if you had picked a dress more quickly.”

“I did pick a dress quickly.”

“Yeah? Which one?” There’s a split second in which Jacob feels self-conscious about his choice. He’s usually so adept at pin-pointing the things you’re going to like, but the way you look at him with your hair and face all done-up makes him falter a little. The next second, he’s almost mad at himself. How ridiculous of him to fear that you would ever think of less of him for his opinion, much less disregard it.

“This one,” he says, holding up the black one.

“Oooh, sparkles!” Is your only comment. You hold it in front of your body in the mirror. But instead of agreeing with his choice you look back at him again.

“What is Juyeon’s favourite colour?” The question takes Jacob so by surprise that he doesn’t even manage to stop himself from answering, “blue.”

“Okay,” you toss the brilliant, black piece back onto your bed unceremoniously and grab the dark blue one. You stare at him with those intense eyes and Jacob can’t help the thought that, as stunning as you look now, he prefers you with no make-up on. He only notices that he’s still staring when you clear your throat.

“Huh?”

“Could you turn around?”

“Oh shoot, yeah, sure,” he says, spinning around, glad that you won’t see how his face heats up. Maybe it’s your stupid make-up or the fact that you’re clearly getting ready with thoughts of Juyeon on your mind but Jacob is feeling like the air in the room has gotten a lot thicker. He wonders shortly whether he should tell you that he thinks you’re better than doing all this for a man, choosing your dress according to his preferences, dolling yourself up for Juyeon instead of for yourself. But when he opens his mouth to speak, you beat him to it, prompting him to turn around.

“Ok, done. What do you think?”

Jacob thinks he’ll be hard pressed to keep Juyeon, or anyone’s, eager hands off of you.

The two of you make it to the party only five minutes short of an hour late. Haknyeon is the one to open the door, letting you know where to find snacks, the beer pong table, and the drinks. He looks you up and down, making you wonder if there’s something wrong with your dress. Jacob steps closer to you, one arm on your elbow. He continues to stick close to your side, while you two get a feel for the place. There seems to be a game of truth or dare going on the floor of the living room and Jacob easily steers you away from it.

He hands you some form of alcohol in a red solo cup. You give it a sip, “ooh, it’s good.”

“Don’t let it out your sight. There’s not only team mates here, but also a bunch of people I don’t know well.” You chuckle.

“Ok, mom.”

Eventually, you loose your best friend in the crowd, in what looks suspiciously like a whisking away by his team mates. Possibly to get him to do a keg stand. You chuckle, thinking back to the first and only time you attended one of these after-match parties in your first semester with Jacob. The secret to why Jacob was so adamant about avoiding team parties was a less than stellar escapade with the beer keg in his freshman year that none of his older team mates would let him forget. Before you can try to go looking for him in a much needed rescue attempt, someone taps you on the shoulder. You spin around to be faced with Juyeon, in a leather jacket, open over a skin-tight shirt that leaves little to the imagination.

“Hey,” he greets you, “I didn’t think you’d show up.”

“You should know that I’m always down for a little get-together.”

He laughs, “this isn’t exactly the right place then.”

“Well, as long as there’s people I like around.”

Juyeon smirks, resting his forearm against the wall next to your head and leaning into you.

“Some more than others, maybe?” He whispers under his voice. You can smell the vodka-o on his breath but it doesn’t really bother you. You mirror his smirk, leaning a little more forward.

“The jury’s still out on that, but if someone were to get me a new drink, I’d definitely warm up to them.” He snatches your empty solo cup out of your hand immediately.

“I’ll be right back,” he winks, making a beeline for the kitchen. You bite your lips in anticipation of where this night might lead but your thoughts are rudely interrupted by a familiar voice, “You look silly.” Your best friend’s expression betrays another close call with the keg. His eyes, usually bright and soft, have darkened.

“Rude!”

“What’s got you grinning like an idiot like that?”

“Oh just this and that.”

“Is ‘this and that’ roughly 1,80 tall, mildly annoying on a good day, and our best middle blocker?”

“Don’t let him hear that, it’ll get to his head.”

“Men are trash after all,” your best friend says, his face still impassionate. You bump hips with him in an effort to get him out of his funk. “But some are a little less trash,” you wink at him and he finally gives you a smile.

“I don’t really know if I should feel offended or flattered.”

Jacob keeps you company until Juyeon returns with your solo cup, filled to the brim and reeking of alcohol. You take a sip and try not to grimace from the taste. Seems like he threw every type of alcohol he could find in the kitchen into one cup and topped it off with an inch of sprite.

“Thanks,” you say anyway.

“Have you seen the pond in Haknyeon’s backyard yet? It’s the second prettiest thing tonight.” He winks and you you can’t help but giggle. Behind you, quiet enough for Juyeon not to catch it, Jacob pretends to retch. The middle blocker holds an arm out for you to take and leads you to the garden. You miss the forlorn expression on Jacob’s face.

“I think Jacob’s best friend is super cute,” one of his team mates says, making the boy in question wheel around. “What?” He asks, incredulously, before he can stop himself. Mark looks over at him from where he’s changing. “Sorry, dude,” he chuckles, rubbing his neck awkwardly.

“He’s not wrong, though,” Lucas chimes in, “at our last game she was wearing that tight t-shirt—“

“Stop… talking, please,” Jacob says, still all smiles, even though the way his team mates are talking about you makes his throat constrict. Lucas seems to either not catch his tone or choose to ignore it. “Her friend’s not bad either, huge pair of—“

“Oh my god, Lucas,” Jacob interrupts. Mark is starting to look very unhappy with where he took the conversation. Lucas just looks confused at Jacob’s reaction. “What? Are the friends of your friends also off-limits now?”

“No,” Jacob replies in between deep calming breaths, “I’d just appreciate it, if you didn’t talk about women like that in general. No matter who they are.” Lucas seems to really work through those words in his head before he shrugs his shoulders, “Ok.” Jacob is almost certain he heard Mark sigh relief.

When you meet him outside the changing room, as you always do, you have no idea about the conversations that had just happened inside the locker room. You give him a big hug, which Jacob cleverly uses to stare down Mark behind your back, who had been lingering a little too long for his liking.

“You did so well!” You say, also as always. Jacob doesn’t have it in himself to negate your gushing praises today. “Thanks,” he simply breathes, with a smile. You walk home together, another daily ritual, except today you take a detour to try out a new café you’d been talking about for ages. It’s supposed to have super cute interior and be the new hotspot in town. Whatever that’s supposed to mean. He always treasures these small moments. You’re in the final strokes of your junior year now, and time is getting increasingly scarce between both of your academic and leisurely commitments.

“You find a table, I’ll go order,” Jacob says and you agree immediately, already on the lookout for one of the lounging chairs on the deck in front of the building. He makes his way inside, immediately glad you decided to sit outside in the sun. The huge glass front of the café makes the interior feel like a hundred degrees. He walks over to the counter and is surprised to be greeted by a familiar face.

“Mrs. Oropeza, I didn’t expect to see you here!” He greets the elderly lady. She smiles warmly, the same smile she’s always smiled, ever since babysitting him when he was little. It’s been a constant fixture in his and your life to run over to her house in the neighbourhood in search of freshly baked pudín, a place to watch Sunday TV volleyball matches or a shoulder to cry on over scraped knees. Once Jacob took up volleyball in middle school, she made sure to come to all of his matches. She insisted it was not only for his sake, but also because she loved the sport.

“Well, it’s grown so quiet in the neighbourhood that I’ve been longing for a chance to get out again.”

“So you started working here?”

“Just sometimes. It’s not hard work to man the register, and I enjoy getting to talk to people.” Jacob smiled at her warm expression. He didn’t doubt that her positive presence would do the café well. “So what can I get you today, cariño?”

“I think I’ll take a latte, and one homemade lemonade for my friend.” 

“Oh, how lovely. Are you two still as inseparable as ever?”

Jacob smiles fondly at the memories of the two of you together on Mrs. Oropeza’s old, orange couch, munching on her baked goods while watching cartoons. “Yeah,” he says, smiling fondly, “we’re on our way home from one of my games.”

“Ah, I heard you were playing the Tigers today. A terrible team, in my opinion. No sportsmanship.” Jacob chuckled at her committed interest in high school volleyball teams.

“Who said that?” He laughs.

“I did,” she winks at him while ringing him up and telling the part-timer next to her his order. He hands her the cash as she inquires about the outcome of the game. “We won,” he says, his chest swelling with pride a little. He was sure that Mrs. Oropeza had heard about how infamous their opposing team was for their power and endurance.

“Of course you did. I always keep telling you the setter is the centre point of every good team. He’s the game master, without a good setter, the rest of the team has an infinitely harder team.” Jacob only nods amiably as he listens to his old neighbours often repeated chorus. “And you were always a brilliant setter,” she continues, making his cheeks burns.

“I tell all the ladies at my book club, as far as high school volleyball goes, you haven’t seen a perfect set, if you haven’t seen Jacob Bae play.” At this point, the boy in question is sure that his entire face is bright red. He waves his hand in a throw-away motion while trying to dissuade Mrs. Oropeza from uttering any more praises. He’s lucky because she seems to sense his discomfort with being the centre of attention. She let’s him go with a simple, ‘say hello to your other half for me’.

next | series masterlist | general masterlist

[kakusu-shipping]

I rewatched xxxHolic while I was away (and found somewhere to watch Season 2/the OVA) and came out the other side with two self inserts, only one of which I've managed to draw up reference for fdkgjdfk I'll get to the other one eventually.

Quick lore for WaTanuki under the cut

He's a young Tanuki that Domeki found injured and nursed back to health. After falling in love with Domeki, the Tanuki starts using his transformation powers to turn into Watanuki, who he perceives to be Domeki's most precious/favorite person.

At first it's just mimicry for disguise sake, staying near Domeki on his walk to and from school, clinging all over him the entire time (driving the real Watanuki crazy). Then he starts actually mimicking Watanuki, making Domeki lunches exactly as he's seen Watanuki do, mimicing his voice, his silly movements, copying him in every way.

Eventually Domeki realizes that the Tanuki is trying to take Watanuki's place and tells him to knock it off in his usual blunt manner. The next day the Tanuki doesn't accompany Domeki to school, but is still there when they arrive, granted in his Tanuki form and looking rather sad. Watanuki, ever the worrier, thinks Domeki's just being an uncaring asshole and runs off during lunch to go find the Tanuki.

The Tanuki decides this is the perfect time to finally become Watanuki, and locks the real Watanuki in the school's outdoor storage shed, taking his form and playing the perfect Watanuki act to fool Himiwari and Domeki.

It isn't until they're about to leave school that Domeki notices a leaf in WaTanuki's hair. Removing it turn him back into his spirit form, causing Domeki to demand to know where the real Watanuki is.

After freeing Watanuki from the freezing shed, the little Tanuki begins to cry. He just wanted to become Domeki's most precious person. Someone everyone liked, someone Domeki loved, someone with a lot of friends.

Domeki kisses the little Tanuki's forehead and assures him he is precious to him, just as he is.

After that, Domeki commonly wears a Tanuki charm, which is his little Tanuki in disguise, either as a necklace or bracelet. The Tanuki isn't as strong as the Pipe Fox, but serves the same animal companion purpose.

He also sometimes still transforms into WaTanuki, though just for fun or to tease Watanuki.

[cuffmeinblack]

If you’re willing (and it does not spoil salvation in any way) would you want to share more about Adanna? i want to know EVERYTHING about her, please I’m on my knees

I wrote a lil summary here but let's gooooooo <3

Adanna Egwe

General information and relationships

Adanna is 23 when Salvation takes place. She is Garreth’s best friend and business partner and lives in the flat above their potion shop.

She met Garreth soon after joining Hogwarts in her first year. They were paired up in Potions, before it became apparent that Garreth would become a class menace. Adanna was drawn to Garreth’s boundless enthusiasm and he to her friendly and open nature. Laughter came easily between the pair, and they very quickly became inseparable. Leander, as Garreth’s roommate, often joined them and so they became a tight-knit trio.

She later formed a very close friendship with Natty when she joined in their fifth year and the trio became four. Despite being the same age, Natty is almost like a big sister to Adanna, being the only strong female influence in her life. Natty is much more level headed than Adanna and often has to talk her out of her more emotionally-driven decisions.

Family and early life

Adanna is an only child. She lost her mother to an infection when she was very young, and she only has vague memories, portraits and precious keepsakes to remember her by. Her father, Nnamdi, told Adanna that her greatest strengths came from her mother—her empathetic nature, her ability to see the best in people, and a fierce loyalty to her loved ones. These traits ultimately had her placed in Hufflepuff when she attended Hogwarts years later.

Whilst Adanna was young, she lived in London in a charming and spacious two-up two-down redbrick house on the corner of Southwark Park. As a researching Magizoologist, Nnamdi was often travelling, until his wife’s death when he came home to London to take over Adanna’s care full-time. Nnamdi contained his research to books for several years until a time when Adanna was old enough to accompany him on his travels.

They spent years moving around, though most of Nnamdi’s studies were confined to Africa, researching native beasts (his particular favourites were the dangerous Erumpent and Nundu). Adanna received primary education from a mixture of home and local schooling until she turned eleven and Adanna attended Hogwarts, as her mother had always wished. 

Random facts:

Nnamdi briefly met Professor Onai at Uagadou when they were both students (she was in her sixth year when Nnamdi was in his first)

Adanna’s mother and father both studied at Uagadou where they became adept at wandless magic, though Nnamdi started using a wand in his later years in London as he found that wandless magic often unnerved British witches and wizards

Personality

Adanna gives a warm and welcoming impression to those who meet her as she is a confident and friendly person who generally enjoys the company of others. She tends to see the best in people, and some might say she is naive.

She is empathetic, a worrier, and feels others’ pain very keenly. 

She is fiercely loyal to her friends and has a strong moral compass. She can also be very headstrong and impatient in regards to getting what she wants.

Also, she’s kinda sassy.

Her alignment is Chaotic Good.

Likes and dislikes

Adanna has a sweet tooth and loves to bake

She’s athletic and enjoys dancing and flying (though doesn’t play Quidditch much)

Gifted with herbology and a decent potioneer

Dislikes conceited people and anyone who is purposefully mean to others

[xxbyimm]

A tale as old as time - Bard the bowman x OC - Chapter 3 - Skills of a healer

New to this journey? Here’s chapter 1.

A tale as old as Time - Bard x OC - Chapter 3: Skills of a healer

Summary: Brea is forced to turn to a practice she has abandoned some time ago.

Warnings: this chapter deals with injury and treating injuries. Though it's not described in a gruesome way, take care if you are sensitive to this topic! <3

Author’s note: lovely people, it’s been too long since I’ve updated this fic! Recently my dear friend @fizzyxcustard inspired me to work on this fic again and goodness—I am obsessed now with it. Enjoy this update ❤️❤️

The practice of medicine is an art, not a trade;

a calling, not a business;

a calling in which your heart will be exercised equally with your head.

-William Osler

She did not see Bard for a long time after.

The first few days, Brea told herself that he probably was too busy to enjoy her company–the bargeman had a family to sustain after all... But when the first two weeks had gone by and she still hadn’t seen even a glimpse of the man’s pretty ass, Brea started to consider the fact that the bowman was, in fact, avoiding her. The decision, which only spoke in favor of his character and sense of duty, made the daughter of Brenion ache for his company even more. Even so much that the concept of sleeping eluded her.

Brea heaved a weary sigh and shifted under the covers of her comfortable bed. She knew she should be vastly asleep right now, but her love-stricken brain had lost its interest in the mundane and now she spent most of her nights going back to the precious moment in which Bard had his arms safely wrapped around her. Unfortunately she had discovered that if she completely emerged herself in this past experience, she could still bask in the warmth of his embrace–her skin remembering how the bowman’s rough fingertips had brushed over her cheek.

Oh, and that rueful, adorning smile…

‘You are so young, Brea… And I’m an old man. This is foolery.’

Her heart ached at that and Brea winced. Restlessly, she turned over to her right side once more and pulled her heavy blanket towards her chest. The man certainly knew how to stab her in the heart and ruin a perfect moment in one go. She chewed on her bottom lip. But how could she accept that it was over before it had even begun? How could she forget him when he was all she could ever think about?

The stairs that led to the attic creaked, disturbing her silent musings.

Brea rose to her elbows, listening intently to the light footsteps that made their way to her room. Mîrhel was a heavy sleeper and Catherine usually spent the night with her own family, which meant there was only one person who dared to enter her domain, especially during the night.

‘Jen?’ She inquired, squinting her eyes to peer into the darkness. The door opened and her sister’s pretty face peered through the crevice. Strands of her thick black hair had broken free from her braid, framing her cheeks.

‘Bree…’ Jenessa pleaded softly. ‘I’m sorry to disturb you, but I can’t sleep.’

Brea already knew what was coming and waited patiently for the impending request. Ever since Jen had entered the family as a frightened little two-year old who had just lost her parents, she had singled out her big sister for comfort whenever she felt scared or sad. ‘Me neither,’ she agreed, smiling faintly. ‘My mind is too troubled.’

‘Oh! Can I stay with you for a bit?’ Jen asked as she shuffled on her feet in the doorframe. ‘Father is snoring again.’

‘Ah, that alone is enough to cause insomnia,’ Brea replied while making room in her bed. ‘Though why do I feel you’ve got something on your mind?’

‘Like what?’ Jen said. ‘I’m not a worrier, like you.’

Brea shook her head, eyeing her sister with an accusing glance before proceeding to lift the covers anyway. ‘Fine,’ she decided. ‘You may keep me company. But only if you lay still and won’t kick me out of my own bed, like last time.’

Jen–who knew their routine all too well–didn’t waste a second and practically dove into the old mattress with the grace of a drunken peasant, making the bed creak dangerously and causing her older sister to gasp.

‘Will you watch it?!’

‘Sorry!’ Jenessa giggled. ‘My limbs are practically frozen from the cold in my room.’

‘Let me guess…’ Brea mused. ‘You were too stubborn to get your woolen blanket from your cupboard?’

‘It’s spring, Bree!’ Jen complained, pouting. ‘It shouldn’t be this chilly anymore! In Minas Trith, the people will have gathered around the white tree by now, to see its first blossoms. I wish I was there too.’

Brea, who too wished their family still lived in the Guarded City, settled onto her back. ‘I know,’ she spoke. ‘But we’re not in Minas Tirith. Laketown is different.’

Jen snorted at that. ‘It certainly is. Cold, wet and stupid.’

‘Jen…’ Brea countered, suddenly feeling very worn out. ‘That’s not a nice thing to say…’

Her sister giggled again and pulled her sibling into a hug. ‘I’m just saying it out loud. I know you are thinking it as much as I am, Bree. Don’t be a hypocrite.’

‘It’s not that bad,’ Brea murmured. ‘Though it isn’t as vibrant as- GOOD GODS GET THOSE COLD FEET AWAY FROM ME!’

Jenessa laughed and retreated her icy feet to the other end of the bed. ‘Sorry…’ She eyed her elder sister with amusement as the latter did her best to look as annoyed as humanly possible. ‘You were saying?’ Jen then continued, as if she just hadn’t tried to freeze her sibling to death mere moments ago.

‘I said,’ Brea repeated herself. ‘That Laketown might not be as lively or exciting as Minas Tirith, but that it surely has its’ charm.’

‘In the form of a lovely bargeman with hazelnut colored eyes, you mean?’ Jenessa purred, her hands sneaking to his sister's side and squeezing hard.

‘Absolutely not!’ Brea countered, before grabbing Jen’s hands and keeping them in place. ‘Laketown has a surprisingly diverse market place, lovely sceneries and interesting architecture-’

‘You forget to mention the handsome male population,’ Jen filled in, wriggling herself free. ‘Especially the likes of Bard…’

‘Oh, shut up!’ Brea protested, pulling the coverlet up to her chin. ‘I did not invite you in my own bed to be made fun of! Leave me alone!’

‘Ah, Bree… Don’t be so irritable…’ Jenessa pouted. ‘I’m just teasing you…’

‘The hell you are…’ Brea muttered, her thoughts already returning to the bowman’s handsome face.

‘But I know you like him!’ Jen pressed, unwittingly evaporating her sibling’s pleasant distraction. ‘And I can’t figure out why the two of you suddenly won’t speak to each other anymore,’ she went on. ‘But I do know it makes me sad.’

Brea heaved a weary sigh.

The fact that Jen noticed something was off, meant that quite a few people would be aware of the–how to frame it–delicate friendship between herself and the bargeman. Both sisters could only hope that Mîrhel wasn’t one of them...

‘Fine,’ she then gave in. ‘But you mustn’t tell anyone. The truth is I think he’s a good man and I like him… A lot.’

‘A lot?!’ Jen squealed and excitedly clapped in her hands. ‘Bree! That sounds so promising! Please tell me, what happened between you two? Has he kissed you?’ Her face fell. ‘No, don’t tell me he did. For if he had, he should not give you the cold shoulder!’

‘Have you forgotten what happened with Ru-’ Brea said sharply, but she stopped before saying Ruthron’s name out loud. She still couldn’t let his name roll over her tongue. Because if she did, everything that had happened would become more real. She bit her lip. ‘I didn’t kiss Bard, nor did he kiss me. I couldn’t allow it, not after everything that has happened.’

‘Oh, Brea…’ Jen mumbled softly. ‘I’m sorry I brought it up. But what happened with Ruru wasn’t your fault and you know that.’

‘He should not have had to pay that price alone,’ Brea said bitterly. ‘I was just as much to blame.’

They lay side by side in silence and Brea’s thoughts traveled to her former life.

She knew Jen was right, living in Minas Tirith had been glorious. But for Brea, the never ending guilt weighing her down, made those memories bittersweet. She could never forget what had happened last fall, nor could she ever forgive herself for her incompetence.

‘Sigrid has promised me she’ll teach me how to swim,’ Jen said quietly, breaking the silence. ‘She told me that now I’m a proper Laketown resident, I have to learn.’

‘A resident of Laketown? How does one earn such a lovely title?’

Jenessa snorted. ‘A dive in the Long Lake will suffice.’

‘In that case…’ Brea shivered and moved further under the covers. ‘I think I’ll pass.’

‘Good call,’ Jen murmured. ‘I was lucky Bard was there.’

Though the pain in Brea’s chest was still there, the feeling of gratitude washed over her. ‘You were,’ she agreed. ‘Maybe it’s a good thing Sigrid will teach you how to swim. I don’t want to know what happens if you decide to take a second leap and no one is around to save your sorry ass.’

Jen shrugged. ‘I wasn’t my decision to go the first time around, if you must know. And I guess if it happens a second time before Sigrid teaches me, I’ll drown.’

‘What?’ Brea gasped before pulling her sister into a hug. ‘Please tell me you’re joking!’

‘I wish I was…’ Her sibling mumbled. ‘It’s just that I…’

‘Jen…’ Brea said sharply. ‘You said you tripped.’

Jen turned her head away, her gaze fixed into the unknown. ‘I don’t want to talk about it, Bree.’

‘I understand,’ Brea replied, brushing a strand of raven black hair from her sister’s face. ‘You can tell me at your own pace. But if someone tried to harm you, I need to know, okay?’

Jen merely nodded and melted into her big sister’s hug.

‘We’ll ask Sigrid to teach you how to swim first thing this morning, alright?’ Brea soothed. ‘And I’ll make sure you won’t have to move through town alone.’

‘Thank you,’ Jenessa whispered barely audible.

There was a short silence, in which Brea listened to her sister’s unsteady breathing. A knot settled into her stomach. Jen usually was such a ray of happiness and positivity, that negativity just bounced off her before it could really do any damage. The fact that someone had succeeded in throwing her out of balance, was scary.

‘You know, I had a moment with Bard.’ Brea told her sister softly in an attempt to cheer her up. ‘I bumped into him in the kitchen after I rushed home to you that day.’

‘Oh?’ Jen commented. ‘What happened?’

‘Nothing,’ Brea shrugged. ‘I was so grateful that he saved your life, I threw myself in the poor man’s arms.’

‘Like he minded…’

‘I don’t think he did mind, no.’ Brea gave in. ‘But after we almost kissed, he told me it wasn’t right and he left.’

‘He didn’t!’ Her little sister hissed. ‘That bastard!’

‘No, he’s a sensible, righteous man!’ Brea corrected. ‘He’s too old for me and even if we would become friends, we’d be the talk of the town. It’s best if I stay as far away as I can.’

‘So that’s why you two are ignoring each other?’ Jen mused.

‘He is avoiding me,’ Brea said. ‘He must be, for I haven’t seen even a glimpse of him for the past few weeks.’

Jen watched her with a strange, knowing smile. ‘He’s not ignoring you, Bree. Far from it, actually.’ She smirked. ‘I know for a fact that he still cares. He keeps asking me how you are and if Alfrid is still bothering you. And I, being the silly, trusting goose I am, kept him informed. He even knows about that awful dress Alfrid dropped off for you yesterday morning. Do you want to know what he had to say about that?’

Brea wasn’t about to let her sister have her beg for information, so she simply shrugged. ‘Well?’

’He laughed and told me he was sure you would look lovely in it. And Sigrid agreed!’

‘A generic response,’ Brea quietly told herself. ‘See?’

Jenessa shook her head and giggled. ‘No, Bree. You weren’t there. His face lights up whenever I talk about you. It’s so obvious he’s crazy about you, but for some reason he tries to fight it.’

‘You are so young, Brea. And I’m an old man. This is foolery.’

Brea’s heart ached at those words that were etched in her brain. She was desperate to believe her little sister, but she couldn’t. Loving another man meant that at some point she'd lose him and that would destroy her. ‘Not a chance,’ she breathed. ‘He’s just trying to be nice.’

‘Don’t be ridiculous,’ Jen countered. ‘He’s nice to me too and he treats me entirely different.’

‘You’re a hopeless romantic, Jen.’

‘And you are scared to love again!’

‘I am not!’

‘Yes, you are!’

‘Jenessa…’ Brea murmured. ‘If you won’t hush right away, I will get my thread and needle and sow your mouth shut!’

Jen laughed and prodded a finger between her sister’s ribs. ‘Empty threats, my lovely Bree. That particular kit, stuffed away in the bottom drawer of your closet, is out of reach.’

Despite herself, Brea grinned. ‘Well, either way: you better not tempt me…’

Days flew by and Brea settled into a pleasant, new rhythm.

Because Laketown didn’t provide the usual thrills and gossip of the city, Brea spent much of her time at home and busied herself by reading books from the family’s library and helping Catherine with chores. Though Mîrhel didn’t approve of her daughter doing the servant’s work, Brea had smartly suggested that for future reference, she should learn more about running a household–and what better example than her families’ home?

Of course no mother could not possibly have anything to argue against such solid reasoning and it was no surprise that Mîrhel didn’t.

But while her mother probably was happy that her daughter finally had shown some interest in the concept of marriage and being a wife, Brea’s motives were entirely different. She had found that physical labor helped to put her mind off Bard a bit, and the gods–though she didn’t believe in any–knew she needed that more than ever.

Recently, there had been whispers swirling through town that the bargeman was courting someone and the mere thought made Brea feel sick with dread. She had asked Jen if she knew something about the matter, but her little sister had merely shrugged and said that Sigrid had not mentioned it with her.

And that was it.

Jen still refused to tell her more about what happened that day on the docks, so Brea made sure her sister wasn’t going anywhere on her own. The daily strolls through town provided a welcome break from her mother’s looming presence and she one time she even was rewarded with a glimpse of a certain bargeman, who then suddenly vanished just as quickly as he had appeared.

Her other suitor, that hateful piece of human garbage calling himself Alfrid, managed to find her everywhere and when he did he refused to leave her alone. Brea was sure he had other, more important duties to attend to (and told him as such), but he insisted a ‘fine girl like her’ shouldn’t walk the streets alone.

‘No, miss Brea,’ he had told her. ‘Any guy can see how lovely you are and someone with the wrong intentions could wrong you. We want to avoid that, don’t we?’

Indeed, being harassed by awful men like the deputy himself was something Brea would rather avoid, but the obvious irony was lost to Alfrid. As for herself, the chance of laying her eyes on Bard was enough to endure the unpleasant company.

So that was why on this particular late, windy afternoon Brea was strolling the docks towards the market space. A few hours ago, she had dropped Jen off at Bard’s home and they had agreed she’d pick her sister up near the market. Brea knew she was early, but she enjoyed inspecting the latest wares and catching up on today’s gossip. She was just about to greet her friend Hilda-Bianca, when a loud shriek traveled through the air.

‘BREA!!’

She whirled around and almost got toppled over by her little sister. In fact, if it hadn’t been for the sturdy market stall behind her, she would have lost her balance.

‘What are you-’ she began, but Jen impatiently shook her head and grabbed her sister’s wrist.

‘No time!’ Jen urged while she dragged her elder sister away. ‘We have to go! Bard’s in trouble.’

Several heads turned and the usual bustle and talk died quickly.

Brea’s throat went dry and her pace faltered. ‘What happened?’ She inquired quickly, her voice slightly cracking. ‘Is he alive?’

‘Yes! But he’s bleeding badly,’ Jen cried out. ‘That’s why I went to get you… I know you can help. He needs you.’

Brea’s gaze darted through the marketplace. Most of the people here were merchants, housewives or fishermen, and they all looked equally appalled. There was no real surgeon in these parts, let alone someone with sufficient knowledge about medicine. Though she had sworn never to treat patients again, Brea quickly gathered up her skirts and gave her sister a short nod.

‘Please go get my medical kit,’ she instructed. ‘You know where to find it. Is Bard home?’

‘Yes,’Jenessa told her.

‘Well, then meet me there.’

The news that the bargeman had been badly injured traveled fast. By the time Brea had made it towards his home, a whole crowd had gathered in front of it. The people were speculating loudly what could have happened. Had he been involved in some kind of accident or was this a case of foul play? After all, everyone knew how much Bard was hated by the authorities and no one would be surprised if those said authorities were behind this recent turn of events.

‘Let me through!’ Brea insisted furiously as she shoved her fellow townsmen and women aside. ‘Make way!’ She clambered onto the stairs, elbowing Bard’s neighbor out of the way before knocking on the wooden door.

‘Sigrid! Bain!’ She yelled over the murmuring crowd. ‘It’s me, Brea!’ There was no immediate response and she frantically hammered her fist onto the wooden surface. ‘Let me in!’

Finally, Sigrid’s pale face appeared behind the glass pane. The door creaked open and Brea slipped through the crack.

‘Oh, miss Brea!’ Sigrid cried out as she quickly shut the door behind them. ‘Please… Da’s injured and I don’t know what to do…’ she wrung her hands together. ‘Please help! ’

‘Don’t fret,’ Brea said as she placed her hands on the shoulders of Bard’s eldest. ‘I’ve sent Jen to get my medical kit. I will do anything in my power to save him. Will you tell me what happened?’

‘Brea!’ Tilda wailed, making her way towards her friend. Tears streamed down her young face. Brea pulled the little girl into a hug and gently brushed over her small back.

‘Sshh…’ she cooed. ‘It will be alright. We will save your dad, but in order to do so, you need to be very brave and stay with Sigrid, can you do that for me?’

The little girl nodded vigorously.

Brea then let Tilda go and marched over to the bed. Her patient had been hidden from her view, as the curtains at the foot end were shut to give the poor man some privacy. As she neared the bed, Brea was confronted with an ailment she had seen many times before.

In the blood-ridden bed, Bard was resting against the cushions, an arrow protruding from his left shoulder. The bargeman’s chest heaved up and down mechanically. His eyes were closed and his face was contorted in a pained scowl. Brea stepped closer and carefully inspected the wound. The arrow had gone in deep, which meant there was no way to tell if it was barbed. The blood gushed from the wound and frayed sides of the wound told her that the bowman probably had tried to extract the arrow by himself, which only had made his situation worse.

‘Oh, Bard…’ she said softly. ‘This was no accident… What happened?’

‘We… we don’t know exactly,’ Sigrid stammered, standing just behind her. Her voice trembled. ‘Da hasn’t said a word... We believe he was shot at shore. He somehow managed to get the boat to the dock keeper, who alarmed us. Bain and a few others carried him home. I’ve sent them out to find the town’s barber. Then Jen said you knew a thing or two about treating arrow wounds…’

‘Your father is a brave man,’ Brea replied, still inspecting the wound. ‘It looks like he tried to get the arrow out himself, but that only made it worse. I will do my best to get it out in one piece, but there’s a chance we’ve got a barbed arrow on our hands.’

Sigrid’s breath hitched. ‘I don’t-’ she mumbled, her hands frantically pulling on her skirt. ‘I’m not a-’

‘I will do most of the work, but I need you to help me.’ Brea instructed, while glancing at Bard’s coat that had already been discarded and currently decorated the floor. ‘I need a bowl of clean water, make sure to boil it first,’ she ordered as she got hold of the hem of the bargeman’s tunic, the hairs on his chest tickling her skin. She grinded her teeth, tearing the fabric under her firm grip. ‘Stoke up the fire, because I need to cleanse my pliers before extracting the arrow,’ she went on. ‘And Tilda, sweetheart, bring me some honey if you can.’

The bowman possessed a finely sculpted chest, but since it was not the time nor the place to admire it, Brea reverted her attention to the wound, while vaguely registering the sound of rushing skirts as the sisters set out to their tasks with utmost haste. A pot was filled with fresh water and put on the stove. Sigrid instructed her little sister to get more wood from the basement and continued to retrieve a large jar.

‘Brea!’ Sigrid called. ‘We’re out of honey! I meant to get some from the market last week, but money was tight and…’ she groaned in frustration. ‘Now what?’

At the same time the door was pushed open, bringing Bain and Jenessa inside.

‘I found John the barber,’ Bain said hastily. ‘He will be here as soon as he can.’

‘I brought your medical kit, Bree!’ Jen cried out behind him.

‘A barber?’ Brea echoed, while gesturing at her sister to bring her stuff. ‘Please don’t tell me your barber is the town’s surgeon as well!?!’

Bain shot an uneasy glance at his father and then turned to Brea. ‘It was the best I could do, miss…’ he murmured. ‘I didn’t know…’

Brea sent him a reassuring smile. ‘I know. Luckily I’ve had some practice in treating arrow wounds back home. I’ll see what I can do.’

She then rolled up her sleeves and opened the leather pouch containing her medical instruments on the bench that Jen just put next to the bed. She hoped it would take John a long time to get here. She had dealt with the likes of him too many times and all of those had been unpleasant. People like John seemed to think they knew a thing or two about medicine, but usually their methods of choice made things far worse.

‘How’s that water coming along, Sigrid?’ She inquired, while reaching for her pair of pliers. ‘And Jen, can you find me a clean cloth?’

‘I’ve got the wood!’ Tilda called as she finally hurried up the stairs, her arms crammed with firewood.

Brea locked eyes with Bain. ‘Bain, can you take Tilda with you to fetch some honey for me? She doesn’t need to witness what’s next.’ The boy nodded shortly and after filling the stove with wood, Bain ushered his sister through the front door.

Brea got a small flash of strong liquor from her bag and poured a generous amount on her hands. Ruthron had always deemed it unnecessary, but Brea almost never skipped the first step of healing: cleanse one’s hands.

Jen then provided her sister with a clean, cotton cloth, took the pliers with her to the kitchen and then continued to help Sigrid pour some water in a large bowl. The pliers landed in the pot with the remaining simmering water. Sigrid placed the bowl on the bench and then crouched down next to her dad. Her hand brushed over his tormented forehead and to everyone’s surprise, Bard opened his eyes.

‘Sigrid,’ he murmured and the girl beamed.

‘Da!’ she gushed. ‘We were so worried! But everything will be alright, miss Brea is here.’

‘Miss Brea…’ Bard whispered softly while shifting his gaze. His eyes landed on Brea’s physique and his mouth curved into a faint smile. ‘How lovely to see you. How are you… faring?’

Brea, who had just dipped a piece of the cotton cloth in the hot water and had waited until most of the heat had worn off, bowed forward and began cleaning the wound. ‘That’s what you’re going with?’ she berated the poor bargeman, who was flinching with pain now. ‘I’m rather busy treating you right now, master Bard. Care to tell me what happened?’

Beads of sweat welled on the bowman’s forehead. ‘I had just finished conducting my business with the elves… Then all of a sudden I got shot,’ he rasped hastily, the words tumbling from his mouth. ‘I have no idea where the shooter was- ARGH!’

‘My apologies, I know it hurts…’ Brea said, while submerging another piece of the cloth into the water. ‘But I need to clean the wound in order to see what arrow we’re dealing with.’

She thoroughly cleaned the wound and established that the arrow was flat barbed, which meant she should be able to retract it rather easily. Brea was just about to ask Jen to hand her the pliers, when her sister appeared behind her with the needed set. They shared a glance and without asking further, Jen picked up a small poke and made her way into the kitchen.

‘Brace yourself,’ Brea ordered the bargeman and his daughter. ‘This is going to hurt.’

Moving as efficiently and quickly as possible, Brea managed to extract the arrowhead in one piece. Unfortunately, the disruption of the tissue also caused severe bleeding. Bard passed out.

‘I have to sear the vessels,’ Brea told Sigrid, who was looking as white as a sheet. ‘It’s painful, but he’s already lost much blood.’

‘Do what you must,’ the girl said, her voice shaking with fear. ‘Please Brea, we can’t lose him…’

Brea nodded shortly and waited for Jenessa to bring the poke. ‘It’s better if he’s not conscious during this part.’

The stench of burned flesh was something Brea would never get used to and she could hardly resist the urge to gag. She rather stitched hundreds of cuts or mended the gruesomest of pustules with pleasure, but she hated having to sear people, only doing so when there was no other choice. By the time Brea was done, her eyes were watering and her hands trembling. A soft cry escaped her when Jen gently pried the poke from her hands and brought it into safety. Then, Brea stumbled backwards and lowered herself on the bench.

‘Da!’ Sigrid begged, brushing her hand over his face once more. ‘Please wake up!’

Brea watched Bard’s handsome features, which were thanks to his current unconscious state, rather peaceful. Her stomach churned uncomfortably. She really hoped she had done the best she could…

‘I need a cold compress,’ she told Jen, who made her way into the kitchen to retrieve some. Brea got up and crouched down next to Sigrid.

‘Are we doing enough?’ The girl asked, her cheeks wet from her tears. ‘Is there anything we can do?’

‘Yes. We’ll soothe the burn with cold water until Bain and Tilda come back with honey, then we’ll dress the wound with that.’ Brea explained, gently rubbing Sigrid’s shoulder. ‘Then, we swaddle the area. Jen, have you brought my bindings?’

‘They’re on the table,’ Jen called from the kitchen. ‘I thought you wanted to keep them away from here until you need them. To keep them clean.’

Brea caught her sister’s gaze and smiled. She had taught her well. ‘Thank you, you’re a dime.’

‘I know that,’ Jen smirked as she brought a compress their way. ‘Think of that the next time you want to tell me what an insufferable idiot I am!’

Brea grinned and took the compress from her sister’s hands. ‘Remind me then, will you?’ She then proceeded to lower the wet cloth onto the wound.

‘Aaargh!!!’ Bard cried out, arching his back and pressing his shoulder into the bed. His eyelids flung open, but his wide gaze was faraway and his eyes traveled restlessly through the room.

‘Hey,’ Brea greeted him gently, while pushing his stomach down with her left arm. Her right hand caressed the sharp edge of his jaw. ‘Welcome back. I need you to lay still.’

His eyes landed on her face and sparked with recognition. Bard groaned through gritted teeth and gave her a short nod.

‘Da!’ Sigrid exclaimed, relieved that her father had regained his consciousness. Brea didn’t have the heart to tell the girl he’d probably pass out a few times more.

Sigrid and Jenessa watched as the bowman hissed and strained, while Brea redressed the compress a few times to further cool the wound. Then, a sharp knock on the door informed them that John the barber finally had decided to grace them with his presence.

Unable to sleep anyway, Brea stayed with the Bardlings all night.

It had taken hours to soothe Tilda’s grief, to comfort Sigrid’s worries and to convince Bain he had done everything right, all while regularly checking in on her patient and dabbing his forehead with a cold compress. When everyone finally was asleep and silence reigned over the room, Brea’s own sleep still eluded her.

The gods knew she could use some rest, but as the first dangers had passed, Brea found herself praying to those said gods that the bowman would make it through the night. Bard had lost much blood and now that she watched over his fever stricken body, she started to doubt her own judgment. Had it been the right call to sear the wound and if so, had it been enough? His body could still succumb from the fever that now raged through him and even after surviving the first night, the burn would be vulnerable to infection. Brea eyed Bard’s children as they lay huddled up under their makeshift beddings on the ground. She could not bear to lose another patient, let alone their father.

The one she was losing her heart to.

She heaved a weary sigh and shifted on the hard, wooden bench. The flat surface pressed into her back, turning her bones sore. The small candle she had put on the floor burned steadily, the flame swaying in a gentle manner. Her gaze shifted towards the bed.

Bard was sleeping, his bare chest heaving up and down. Even in the dim light, it was easy to tell his face was flushed and beads of sweat decorated his forehead. Strands of his loose, messy hair had fallen over his face and Brea fought the urge to get up and brush them away. The bowman groaned, his face consorting into a pained scowl. His eyelashes fluttered as he opened his eyes, a glassy expression written in them.

‘Hey,’ Bard rasped, reaching out to her and Brea rose from her place to rush to his side. The bargeman’s fingers clasped around her own. ‘Is this…’ he murmured as his gaze hovered over her physique. ‘Is this a dream?’

Brea smiled faintly and shook her head. ‘I don’t think so, master Bard.’

‘Are you sure?’ He inquired and his fingers caressed hers. ‘The goddess of the lake doesn’t usually visit me.’

‘You’re delirious,’ she told him gently as she caved in and brushed the strands of hairs from his face, scorching her fingers on his burning skin. ‘There is no goddess of the lake.’

‘Sounds like something she’d say,’ he whispered. ‘The whimsical creature of faint whispers and shapeshifting… You took her form, knowing fully well then I’d do anything you’d ask of me…’

‘Whose form?’

Bard’s expression changed as if he was reminded of something painful. The bowman let go of her hand, but found her braid instead and his fingertips continued caressing the soft, blonde locks. ‘You know of whom I speak,’ he then breathed. ‘But we both know she’s at home, where she’s safe. Her folk would never allow her to be here, and they are right to protect her.’

‘She’s of age, you know,’ Brea replied softly as she leaned forward to check the bandages around his shoulder. To her satisfaction, they were still in perfect condition. ‘She can do what she wants,’ she went on. ‘Her parents don’t own her. Besides, you have saved Jenessa’s life some time ago, which forever puts her and her parents in your debt.’

‘No,’ he countered, shaking his head vigorously before wincing in pain as the movement caused strain on his wound. ‘I only did what I had to.’

‘Lie still. I’m going to get you some willow bark to chew on,’ she told him gently. ‘It will help with the fever.’ Her braid slipped from his fingers as she rose to her feet. Her medical kit was within reach and she extracted some of her last willow bark from it.

‘But if it passes,’ Bard rasped, his eyes searching her face as Brea settled on the bed again. ‘Then you will leave.’

‘I thought we had concluded that I was not her,’ Brea said, fumbling with the piece of bark. ‘But I promise you she will be back. Even though you were avoiding her.’

A small, rueful smile crossed his face. ‘So you do know all, goddess of the lake…’

‘It’s either that or I’m Brea myself, which means you’re in trouble,’ she agreed while coaxing him to take the willow bark which the bargeman did with some reluctance. ‘Just chew on it,’ she instructed him, stifling a laugh as he made a face. ‘I know it’s not great, but at least you won’t have to ingest it.’

She watched him as he patiently did what she asked him to.

Bard was right, her parents probably would be livid she hadn’t come home last night, for she was not to mingle with his family or carry out medicinal or healing practices at all. The fact that they hadn’t shown up to the Bardling’s home yet, was a bit surprising and the only sensible reason for that was Jen.

Her sister had done the sane thing and left well before midnight, with the promise to talk to mother and father about what had happened. Perhaps Brenion and Mîrhel’s youngest had convinced them that since Bard had saved her life, it was only natural that Brea tried to save his to pay their debt. If she succeeded, their family would earn some respect from the town and if Bard should die, at least their uncle would be a very happy man.

‘Where is the water, goddess?’ Bard murmured feverishly, causing Brea to press her hand to his forehead. Upon discovering he was burning up again, she heaved a weary sigh. She should not have tired him with their conversation, he needed his rest more than anything.

‘Okay, let me take that from you-’ she whispered, taking the willow bark from him and offering a sip of watered down ale. ‘You should rest, Bard. Your body is fighting the fever.’ Bard murmured something she could not understand and Brea proceeded to tuck him in a few blankets.

‘Please…’ Bard muttered, getting ahold of her hand again. ‘Sweet siren, stay. I need to tell her…’

‘Tell her what?’ Brea inquired, her breath hitching.

But Bard already had succumbed to a feverish, restless sleep, leaving Brea to stay at his side and stroke his hair. He would tell her one day what he had meant, though somehow she already knew.

It had something to do with a kiss.

Thank you so much for reading this chapter! Feedback is always welcome. Did you like my work? Spread the love and reblog! :)

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[therealslimshakespeare]

https://www.tumblr.com/precious-little-scoundrel/751884666351550464/sanchez-scowling-at-buck-is-killing-me

i want buck to like her like a grumpy little sister 😭

More sneak peaks!!!::

Just don’t say I worry too much, Gale thought desperately; he could almost feel Bucky’s gentle squeeze of his shoulder, like shaking out the tension in a cat as he said the same. His back was so stiff he thought it might snap if Bucky did it now but -but John wasn’t here. Thank Almighty God.

“You know you look more German than most of our guards.” Sanchez replied and Benny suddenly snapped to attention at that. “I’m not assuring you of shit.”

“He’s not a damn spy!” Benny insisted, more loudly and vehemently than was maybe best with guards all around.

“You know this how?” she asked, unmoved.

“He’s my fuckin’ co-Pilot.”

Sanchez swayed with the jerk of a pothole and shook her head, “Maybe you both are.”

Smart, and a worse worrier than himself. Cleven liked her immensely and stared out the flap of the truck’s tarp, watching the rain pour down, dusk fully settling over everything outside and the trailing jeep’s headlights poured into their little haven, whiting-out his vision of the road.

“I’m not leavin’ this seat ‘till a Dulag takes you.” he told her, it was all he had to give. For her part she seemed determined to wait and see before expending any thanks. He didn’t expect it.

[quills-of-freedom]

Levi Ackerman ~ Relationship, vibe and various 💕

💀

💣

💥

🧟‍♂️

🦝

🦂

☕

🍵

🍶

🧊

⌚

🌪

👔

🪔

📃

🖇

🧴

🧽

🧼

I think we all know about Levis cold exterior. It’s pretty blatant and he doesn’t try to hide it. So I’m sure it won’t come as a surprise to know he’s a hard one to get close to, especially romantically.

It’s not only his stoic, stone self that makes it difficult, but it’s hard for him to find the time for romance. He’s a busy man, both in AoT and a modern AU.

You have to be pretty special to catch his attention, not to mention be amazing enough for him to work you into his hectic lifestyle.

Low-key huge worrier. He’s lost so many people in his life that the thought of losing someone he cares about again is one of the many things that contributes to his insomnia.

Levi is a perfect yet broken man. He needs so much patience, love and space. He’s definitely far from clingy and yet he has his own special ways of showing he cares.

Ideal dates

Levi feels the most comfortable somewhere quiet. Away from hustle and bustle, noise and, well… people.

Thrives in solitude, so somewhere where its just the two of you is probably what would go down.

His chances of asking you on a date if you just met are pretty slim. He’ll have to know you for a little while. He’s just not interested as he has other things on his plate right now. A plate that just never seems to empty.

A walk in a quiet park. Stargazing. Maybe even hosting you at his place. It’s so casual and he’s so normal about the whole thing, you’ll probably second guess if it’s even a date.

But, if Levi Ackerman is spending alone time with you and its not work related… its probably a date. His independence is very precious to him, so he choses his company with precision.

Always smells and looks good. As we know, he’s super clean. You just aren’t human if he picks you up for a date and you don’t get instant butterflies from his aura alone.

Won’t ever make a move on the first date. He’s testing the waters.

Have a kind heart and he’ll adore you. He definitely doesn’t do PDA except maybe placing his hand on the small of your back.

Modern AU

Totally see him being a snazzy business man in a modern AU. His dream of having his own tea shop always on the horizon. But Levi has to keep himself busy at all times, else the darkness within his mind will catch up to him. It always will be one day, with Levi.

Perhaps you’re the one to get him there, to help piece this broken man back together as best you can.

In a modern AU he is beyond happy that vacuums and anti bac exists. He doesn’t know how he’d cope without it.

Total fuck boy in his early 20s. He doesn’t know how to fill the void within him. Has so much healing to do, it’s so sad.

Erwin is destined to be his mentor, and helps him see the light more. Their bond stretches across multiverses.

Drives a black car with leather seats. A good collection of watches. Levi likes to look good and he pulls it off so good.

Gets acupuncture to help with his insomnia. A lot of herbal tea too. It helps a little but nothing substantial.

NSFW

Post fuck-boy phase, Levi is a gentleman when it comes to between the sheets. He inherently knows a way around another humans body. He’s an extremely passionate and sensual lover; he’ll absolutely blow you away.

If you want graphic detail of Levis junk, you can read and see it here.

Always, alwaaaays has a nice, thick load for you. And there’s plenty of it.

He’s the most vulnerable both when he’s tossing and turning trying to sleep and after sex.

Amazing with his mouth and fingers, very attentive to what you like and don’t like, all from the reactions you give him, no matter how subtle he can pick up on it.

Stamina is out of this world.

Heavy panting, the odd grunt and a bark when he cums is what you can expect to hear while he’s fucking you.

Kinks

Levi has a praise kink, certainly. He adores telling you how beautiful you are. He thrives off making you feel like the king/queen you are.

On the flip side, with how hard he has it, he loves it when you take care of him. Let him relax. Give him oral. Ride him. Massage his aching neck and back. He’ll be putty in your hands.

Shower sex. Obviously. You know.

Ride his face. His groans if you do are out of this world. His slender finger tips will dig into your ass and his sighs are like music to your ears.

Has a thing for watching you touching yourself before stepping in and taking over. It really revs his engine.

Aftercare

If Levi loves you, his aftercare is second to none. Soft kisses, embraces, whispering how gorgeous and perfect you are.

Will carry you to the shower and will change the sheets while you’re in there.

Brings you a tray of food too. Fruits, yoghurt and tea.

Massages if he was a little more rough than usual. Usually after a particularly stressful day.

Levi is a beautiful person inside and out. He’s just in so much pain and anguish. You need to take extra special care of this lovely human being ❤

[butterflyintochains]

Going To War

Bloodraven has bought the royal army three extra weeks to prepare for the battle for the dawn. The Northern Court has done nothing but fortify since the start of their grace period. Now, they're down to days left to get ready for the battle of the age. Armed with the divine dichotomy, the newest Voice of Valyria, and four dragons, it's time to fight.

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

Four days left, four precious days until all hell breaks loose upon Winterfell and Westeros as a whole. The castle is prepared for it now, the smiths have been hard at work under Gendry's lead forging dragonglass weaponry, trenches are dug, the moat is lit, the great hall has been outfitted as a makeshift hospital to be led by Elia. Scorpions and trebuchets are mounted within the walls - gifts from Dorne and The Reach. And, all four dragons are poised for the big event to come. Elia is still terrified at the idea of her mama being up in the air on a dragon, she may be seventeen, but she is still a concerned daughter. Her older brother and their papa will be on the Dornish wing of the army, that also terrifies her. ''Ellie, are you alright?'' Daeron asks her.

Elia sorts through her medical trunk, and says. ''Worried about you, papa, and mama.''

Daeron assures her, he's always known his younger sister was a worrier. ''We will all be just fine, Elia. Papa and I have battle experience, and mama will be up in the air.''

Just as the eldest sun-dragons are talking, an unholy rumbling erupts under their feet, like an earthquake. Their mama comes in, violet eyes blown wide, her coat swishing as she runs in from seeing the dragons. ''What was that, mama?'' Daeron asks.

Shaena kisses her eldest children. ''The wall has fallen, Bloodraven is dead.'' She turns to Bran, and asks. ''Bran, Rivers was my only source of information, how long do we have left now?''

Bran's eyes turn white, he comes back, and says. ''Three days.'' Three days, then they go to war.

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

Those three days go by all too quickly. The court all remaining as calm as they can be in light of everything that's going on. Cersei down south taking a massive backseat to the fight for the dawn up north. Shaena, Oberyn, Jon, and Daenerys inspect the battlements on the final afternoon of their grace period. Davos, Barristan, Jorah, and Garlan right behind them. The almanacs are calling for a massive blizzard tonight, the clouds are gathering above them. That will make flying difficult, but they can handle it. Shaena takes her sister and nephew aside, Jon has Longclaw, Shaena will be using her special arrows and daggers, so Daenerys must have a weapon of her own. ''Dany, my dearest sister, this is for you, for the upcoming battle.'' She hands Dark Sister to her younger sister. ''Follow Jon's lead, what he does with his blade, you do with yours.''

Daenerys belts the sword onto her hip. ''Thank you, sister.'' Bloodraven comes into her head again. ''Six hours, cousin.'' He says. Shaena responds. ''Thank you, cousin. Tell Bran as well.'' Bloodraven affirms. ''I already have.''

Jon asks his aunt, noticing the red in her eyes. ''What is it, Shaena?'' Shaena announces to the troops assembled below, her voice coming out strangely loud. ''Six hours until he comes. We have six hours left! Make sure you are all fed and rested!''

Jon and Daenerys convene a last minute war council with two hours left. The armies of the Vale will partner the Dornish, the knights of the Riverlands will partner those of the Reach. Backing them up will be the Khalasar and Unsullied. The army of The North will be split along the flanks. ''Above the army, will be the three of us and the four dragons.''

Jorah asks the young king. ''What's the plan there, your grace?''

Daenerys speaks instead. ''I will fly in first on Drogon, he is largest so can deal the most damage.'' She places the black dragon down.

Jon says. ''Then, myself and Rhaegal will join the battle, he is the most agile, so will be hardest to confront in the air.'' He places the green dragon down. Shaena picks the white and red dragons up. ''Finally, I will fly in on Viserion with Nymerax behind us. They are the fastest, and Nymerax is smallest. Hardest to keep up with.'' She places the two dragons down. ''Shaena, are you listening to me, sweetling?'' Aenar says to her from beyond.

Shaena responds. ''Yes, my lord, what is it?''

Aenar says. ''That dragon he stole meant a lot to me, do not let it be used against my descendants.''

Shaena promises him. ''I won't, I swear it.'' She updates the council. ''The Night King's dragon is of Valyrian birth. If it comes to it, show it no mercy.''

Garlan asks, hand resting on Gold Thorn. ''Are you certain, your eminence?''

Shaena nods, her role as The Voice is one she will take seriously. ''You have permission from The Voice herself, and all of my ancestors.'' Davos checks the clock, one hour. ''Get into position.''

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

The night grows darker, and the war begins at last. The hour has ticked by, and the generals are all in their positions. Jon sheathes Longclaw, Daenerys pulls her gloves on, and Shaena kisses her husband and children. ''We will see you soon, nuha peldio.'' She promises her husband. Oberyn simply says. ''Stay safe, my love.''

The three dragonriders head out to their dragons together. They have a clear sight of the army of the dead from here. The first wave of the defence is on the three of them, Daenerys kisses her husband, hugs her sister, and mounts Drogon. ''Soves!'' Drogon takes off with his mother. And, the offence begins, Drogon laying waste to hordes of undead. Jon is next, he hugs his aunt, mounts Rhaegal, and takes off into the night. This is where the land attack begins. The bell rings again, Shaena mounts Viserion, and says. ''Soves.''

All four dragons are now in the fight, Daenerys is unleashing burning hell upon the dead, Jon is effortlessly backing her up. Shaena takes Defiance off of her back, nocks a valyrian steel arrow, and fires it at a walker who was attacking Barristan. She turns her attention back to flying. ''Dracarys!'' She carves some space for the army up front. Nymerax enters a dive, performing sneak attacks.

The undead giants come in, easily a hundred of them. But, before Shaena can fly in to back her sister and nephew up, she hears a scream. ''Shaena! It's Tormund and Jorah!'' Arya yells up to her. Shaena banks Viserion downwards, and orders Lords Glover and Hornwood. ''Get them on Viserion, I'll get them to Elia!'' The wounded are positioned on dragonback, Shaena lands at the front entrance, and gets the injured in to her daughter. ''It's carnage out there, Elia.'' She says.

Elia treats them. ''Get back out there, mama.''

And, she does, getting back in the air quickly.

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

Viserion is missing, Daenerys realises while fending off giants. So is young Nymerax. The battle down below is deafening, as is the blizzard in the air. She'd know if her sister died, right? ''Jon, where's Shaena?'' Daenerys asks as she and her husband land for a breather.

Jon yells over the noise around them. ''I think she was ferrying some wounded to the great hall.'' Just behind them, Viserion and Nymerax come roaring back into battle. ''There they are! Soves!'' Drogon and Rhaegal take off again.

The dragons get back to work, doing all they are able to make this easier for the armies below.

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

Oberyn catches up to Garlan and William in the Godswood, Daeron off aiding Lord Royce and Lady Mormont. Goring three wights on Nymeros' valyrian steel spearhead. Gold Thorn tears through a further ten undead. The forest goes pitch black as Drogon soars overhead. ''How do you think your wife is getting on?'' William asks.

Oberyn points to the column of flames spewing from Viserion's throat across the valley. ''I'd wager she's in her element, Will.'' They go to catch up with the Dornish wing of the army. Who are plowing through hordes of undead like it's easy for them. They've been at this for four hours now, and the Night King has yet to make his grand entrance, but, early hours yet.

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

Up in the air, Daenerys has just burned a trail through a horde of giant undead spiders being ridden by wights. Jon is burning a ring around the wights on Rhaegal. The blizzard grows ever stronger, a darkness washes over the field. Shaena looks up from firing arrows at giants. Bloodraven speaking to her again. ''He has arrived, cousin, be prepared.''

Shaena says to him. ''We will be, cousin.'' She shouts to Jon and Daenerys. ''Jon! Dany! He's upon us!''

Daenerys yells over to her. ''Where is he coming from?''

Before she can answer, a hulking great white dragon pierces the clouds, eyes as blue as ice. Decked out in steel and ice armour, is their great enemy. The three dragonriders share a look, and fly as high as they can. Pulling the Night King and his beast away from the combat below. The sky is clearer here, above the storm. Now, the real war begins. ''Declare no quarter! All in!'' Shaena commands.

Drogon and Rhaegal descend upon the beast's throat, the white dragon spews its blue flames upon them both. Jon and Dany are unharmed, but the dragons are frostbitten. Shaena nocks an arrow, aiming for the beast's eye. Her arrow flies low in the wind. Nymerax dives in with her flames, bathing the beast in gold fire. ''Mind telling me who this dragon was, my lord?'' Shaena asks Aenar.

Aenar sadly tells her. ''My own, my boy, my Essovion.'' Essovion, the only one of the original five to never come up in her visions. No time to take that in. The Night King takes Essovion higher, Drogon snaps at his tail, taking a bloody chunk out.

Jon takes Rhaegal higher, Nymerax not far behind him. ''Dany, bank!'' Drogon banks left, Jon commands. ''Dracarys!'' Engulfing Essovion in scarlet flames. Shaena urges Viserion to fly lower and faster. She pops up face to face with the enemy, seeing the telltale blue lips and scar over the eye. ''Remember me?'' She asks.

The Night King turns tail, attempting to lead them north. ''Do not fall for it, cousin.'' Bloodraven tells her.

Shaena assures Rivers. ''We won't. Help Bran, please.''

The three dragonriders turn their attention back to the fight below. the field now bathed in blue ice-flame. Daenerys guides Drogon lower, and takes up Dark Sister, taking out a pack of undead spiders. Jon commands Rhaegal to weave through the field to clear space. Shaena fires her arrows from Viserion's back, her brother's gift to her doing its job. Essovion's eyes turn white, and he is dragged away from the field, up into the sky. ''Now, princess, let your sister and nephew fight, go and get him.'' Shaena the elder says.

Shaena holsters her bow, and grabs onto Viserion. She turns him around, and they fly up above the clouds. Nymerax attempts to follow them. ''Stay with your kepa, Nym!'' Nymerax growls, and retreats. The blizzard is blinding her, chasing a white dragon being ridden by someone with no experience isn't helping.

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

Garlan surveys the field, five and a half hours into this battle, and things are no different than they were an hour ago. The battle down here on the ground is carnage, made even harder to follow by the pitch darkness and bursts of flames in red and blue. The Khalasar and the Dornish team up with the Free Folk to run guerilla tactics on the hordes of wights. All of his years of military experience, but he never dreamed that he would be fighting a war like this. Drogon and Rhaegal circle overhead, carving flaming paths through the undead army, Nymerax helping the Dornish advance. ''Has anyone seen her eminence and Viserion?'' Garlan asks, having lost track of all the dragons.

Lord Karstark says, scanning the skies above them. ''Last I saw the princess and Viserion, they were fighting some giants above the forest! But, they've vanished!''

Brienne yells above the noise. ''Her eminence must be above the clouds!''

A brilliant flash of orange and blue ignites in the sky, a false dawn no doubt. ''I believe we've found them, my lord. She's really targeting that dragon!''

Garlan reminds Brienne. ''That... thing stole a Valyrian dragon, madam. She has a right to be angry.''

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

Shaena keeps the full moon behind herself, keeping the Night King and Essovion in her sights. Her ancestors have not spoken to her in almost two hours now. She knows now what she must do, Essovion has to lose some body parts. She has a plan, if she dies trying, it will be to save the world. Her family is secure, and one of her children will inherit her gifts. But, still, she seeks permission from Aenar, this is his dragon she will be maiming. ''Aenar, my lord, I need to maim your dragon, do I have your permission to do so?''

Aenar says to her from beyond. ''Yes, your eminence, you have my permission.''

Shaena says to him. ''Thank you, my lord.'' She grips onto Viserion tighter, and urges him to speed up. ''Bite!'' Shaena commands him. Viserion latches his jaws around Essovion's tail, black blood spilling forth. ''Tear!'' Viserion rips a third of the beast's tail off.

Essovion roars in pain, his scream echoing around the field. Good. Now, for the wings. Shaena urges her friend onwards, Viserion is easily half this dragon's size, but he's fast to make up for it. ''Bite!'' Viserion locks his jaws around the left wing tip, more black blood. ''Tear!'' The left wing tip is torn off, falling through the clouds. Shaena pats Viserion on the neck, banking him down. ''That's my boy, one more, we've got this!'' She assures him.

They fly under Essovion's belly, and come up at his right wing tip. The Night King banks Essovion lower, trying to make up for the lack of flying agility. So, Shaena follows in kind. ''Once more, Viserion; bite!'' She commands him. Viserion locks his jaws around the wing tip, no doubt swallowing more black blood. ''Tear!'' The final wing tip falls to the ground below. ''Good boy, Viserion! Thank you!'' Shaena banks him down back towards the battle. ''Well done, my dearest.'' Aenar says.

Shaena, out of breath, says to her ancestor. ''You're welcome, my lord.''

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

Down on the ground, the clouds split apart, a third of a gigantic dragon tail falling upon the battlefield. Followed by white and silver wing tips. The body parts crash to the ground, black blood pouring from them. Daeron can't believe his eyes, his aunt and cousin are still up in the air, Drogon and Rhaegal performing miracle work. Nymerax is sticking by his father. ''Please, please, be alive, muna.'' He prays while fighting off an undead snow leopard.

Uncle Steffon shouts over to him. ''Daeron! Look!'' Out over the Godswood, the hulking great dragon plummets out of the sky, missing the ends of its tail and wings. The scream it gives rattles the entire forest. They run over to the crash site, a massive crater replacing the trees, at the bottom of which lies the corpse, but no rider. An almighty thud sounds behind them, they spin around, seeing Daeron's mother dismounting Viserion. ''Muna!'' Daeron exclaims, running to his mother.

Shaena embraces her eldest child. ''Daeron, my dear boy! Thank Meraxes, you're safe!''

Daeron buries himself in her arms, a grown man, but a son still. ''I'm glad you're safe too, muna. Are we done?''

Shaena says, shaking her head. ''No, In fact the real work has just begun. We must find the Night King.'' She mounts Viserion again, and takes off.

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

Jon is too stunned to speak, he knew his aunt had some plan for the dragon, but he never expected that to happen. Viserion, for his part, looks no worse for wear. Now, however, they have a landed enemy to deal with. It has been eight hours of fighting. He's beginning to tire, and so is Rhaegal. They can't even call a ceasefire, this enemy has no concept of such. Daenerys is looking equally tired, Drogon is slowing down his assault as well. Neither have any idea how Nymerax has sustained her energy for so long. It's time to land. ''Dany! He's down below! Time to hunt him down!'' Jon shouts over to his wife.

Daenerys nods, and says. ''Lead the way, we're with you!''

They fly over to the Godswood, and land Drogon and Rhaegal in the usual clearing. Swords out, they get their bearings. ''Any idea where he could be?'' Daenerys asks, suddenly feeling sick.

Jon shakes his head. ''No, none.''

They run for the great Weirwood in the center of the forest, where Bran is with his guards and Lady Melisandre. ''Jon! Dany!'' Bran exclaims, happy to see them both alive.

Daenerys asks. ''The white dragon, who was it, before all this?'' Melisandre vaguely says. ''Her eminence will tell you, your grace.'' The forest goes silent, and freezing cold. Ice crawls up the trees, Bran puts his hand to the weirwood, throwing up an invisible force field around himself and it. Every crow, wolf, and raven for half a mile go to join the battle. Melisandre opens her red robes, presenting her cleavage to the young king and queen. ''Your graces, he is here, it is time. Your blades, if you would.''

Jon and Dany plunge Longclaw and Dark Sister into Melisandre's chest, and withdraw them. Longclaw wreathed in flames, Dark Sister in ice. Melisandre bursts into flames herself, dissolving into ashes on the snow. Jon orders the guards. ''Go, rejoin the battle, we are not done yet.''

Lord Mooton asks. ''Your grace, is that wise?''

Daenerys nods, ignoring a dull pain in her back. ''That is an order from your king and queen.''

Bran's guards disperse to join the battle around the castle. Finally, the Night King finds them. ''Euron, stop, now!'' Shaena orders him from above. ''Dracarys!'' Viserion unleashes burning hell upon Greyjoy. This does nothing. He smirks, and readies his spear. ''Shaena, get out of here, now!'' Jon orders his aunt.

Shaena retreats back to the field. Leaving the four of them to get on with it. Greyjoy produces a second ice blade. Jon and Dany go all in on him, they have no idea how he turned himself into this, all they know is that he needs to die. They look him in the eyes, it's as if time stops entirely. Greyjoy brings the butt of his ice sword down on Dany's head, her ears ring, but she keeps on fighting beside her husband. Following Jon's lead on the ground as he does with her in the air. They're waiting for those ice blue eyes to turn white, Bran must be looking for Euron's mind in his own. ''Come on, Bran!'' Daenerys shouts to her goodbrother.

Finally, Bran locks in, Greyjoy's eyes turn white. ''Now, Dany!'' Jon and Daenerys take advantage of the warged state of their enemy, and plunge their blades through the Night King's chest. Euron bursts into a shower of ice crystals. A great massive shockwave rattles around the battlefield.

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

Shaena puts Viserion down at the crater, Essovion's body still lying there, maimed, defiled, deformed. The blizzard clears away, the clouds finally begin to part, revealing an inky black morning studded by stars and a full moon. It's over, it's finally over. Ten unbearable hours of fighting to save the world are over at last. Shaena sits at the edge of the crater, Viserion goes to sleep behind her. Nymerax lands at her left side, and asks for some affection. ''You did so well, Nym.'' Nymerax rests her head against Shaena's legs. ''It's over, we did it.''

Shaena must nod off herself for a while, leaning against Viserion's flank. She wakes up to people calling her name and address. ''Your eminence!'' One person shouts for her. ''Shaena!'' Oberyn calls for her, she is alert for that at least. ''Oberyn! I'm here!''

Oberyn, Daeron, Elia, Jon, Daenerys, and some of the court flock to her. Drogon and Rhaegal land at the crater's edge. ''Sorry, I fell asleep.'' She says.

Oberyn kneels down to kiss her on the mouth. ''It's alright, we've all earned some rest by now.''

Elia kneels at her side, taking her medical bag out, checking her mother over for injuries. ''Elia, my love, I am well. Do not fuss over me, it is my job to fuss over you.''

Elia embraces her mother. ''I'm glad you made it, mama.'' Shaena presses a kiss to her eldest girl's dark hair. ''As am I, darling.'' Everyone looks upon the mangled corpse of the white dragon in the crater. Such a tragedy, a Valyrian dragon, the dragon of the first Targaryen patriarch in the west. Used for such evil ends. ''Your eminence, you said in the meeting last night that this dragon was of Valyrian birth, who was it?'' Cyrus asks his princess.

Shaena says, directing everyone to sit near her. ''That, my friends and family, is the corpse of Essovion. When Aenar and Shaena fled the doom with Gaemon and Daenys, they brought five dragons west.'' Davos asks, looking a bit worse for wear. ''Five, your eminence?''

Shaena nods, still petting Nymerax. ''Balerion was a young drake then, riderless. Gaemon rode a blue dragon called Rhovior. Daenys had Viridys the green. My lady namesake had Anzarys the violet. And, Aenar had Essovion.''

Sansa asks, looking exhausted from the last few days. ''And, the Night King stole Aenar's dragon? That's why you said to show it no mercy?''

Shaena nods, watching the three adult dragons sniff around their ancestor's corpse, as if debating whether or not to eat it. ''Yes, Essovion must have flew north after Aenar died.''

Daenerys calls over to her boys, like a fed up mother. ''Boys! Leave it be! It's not a good idea!'' Shaena quite agrees with her little sister, who knows what five century old dragon may do to the boys?

They all head back inside, where the wounded are still being tended to. Elia and Sansa return to work. Steffon and William greet Shaena in the library, Allyria and Aelinor will be thrilled to hear that their husbands made it. They debrief on their losses. Looks like they kept eighty percent of their army, the dragons saving them the manpower. They're down Lord Umber, most of the Watchmen, and, perhaps worst of all their losses, Lord Royce. ''And, Lord Reed, he took injured in the fight, how is he?'' Shaena inquires after her friend.

Jon assures her. ''He picked up a nasty concussion, but he is expected to pull through it.''

Oberyn says. ''We also lost some of our sand snakes. Most vitally, Elias Vaith. Sarella Uller has assumed his position as leader.''

Shaena nods, and says. ''That's better than I expected. Seems as if having four dragons saved us.''

The court take the day to rest up and regroup from last night. Shaena and Oberyn retire to their rooms, and toss their weapons aside. Shaena undoes her braids, and pulls her gloves off. Her back and hands are killing her. They ready themselves for bed, draw the curtains, and curl up together.

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

A couple of slow weeks pass, the battlements are taken down, the dead are burned, and the court focus on healing and resting for the time being. Shaena writes to Arianne on Dragonstone, their next move will most likely be to Harrenhal. But, Shaena will likely be flying to Dragonstone very soon. She's just back from the rookery, all three of her letters sent south. ''Well done, my dearest. You, Viserion, and Nymerax make quite the trio.'' Shaena the elder says to her from beyond.

Shaena smiles, it has been a while since she last heard from her ancestors. ''Thank you, my lady. Is your lord husband pleased to be reunited with his dragon?''

Lady Shaena chuckles in her head, a warm feeling, and says. ''He is, he's done naught but ride Essovion since they were united again. Anzarys is happy to have her husband back as well.''

Shaena says to her lady namesake. ''I'm glad you are all back together, my lady.'' It's strange, this bond with her long gone ancestors Shaena now has, but it feels so nice to be able to speak with those who came before her. She sees Sansa walking in from outside with a young man in blue, they're both dusting snow off of their cloaks. ''Good day, your eminence, how are you feeling?'' Sansa asks, she and Oberyn slept for two days after the battle.

Shaena smiles, and assures the young lady. ''I am well, Sansa. And, just use my name, please. Who is your friend?''

Sansa says, blue eyes glittering. ''This is Ser Harrold Arryn, a cousin of Lord Robin. We got close while I was being sheltered in the Vale.'' Ser Harrold politely bows to the Grand Princess. ''Your eminence, it is an honour to meet you at last.''

Shaena dips a curtsy to the young man. ''Likewise, Ser Harrold.'' Sansa informs Shaena. ''Harry is the heir to The Vale through Lord Jon's late brother, Albert.''

Elia surfaces from Jon and Dany's chambers, looking excited to tell them something. ''Mama, Sansa, come with me, now! I have some big news!''

They follow her to a small gathering in the royal chambers, Daenerys is in bed, wrapped up in blankets. Jon is sitting in a chair by her side. They look ecstatic about something. ''Sister, are you well?'' Shaena says, fussing over her little sister. Daenerys happily assures her sister. ''I am well, sister.''

Arya asks, catching her breath. ''What's the news? I was in the forge with Gendry.''

Jon jokes with his little sister. ''I'd wager you were, Arry. Daenerys and I are expecting.''

Shaena cries happy tears for them both, her sister and nephew are building a family of their won making. She embraces them, kissing them each on the cheek. ''You two will be such fantastic parents, I'm sure of it.''

Daenerys takes her sister's hand, placing it upon her small belly. No bump yet, she can't be very far along. ''Shaena, as Voice of Valyria, can you feel anything?'' Shaena closes her eyes, and focuses her mind on her sister's womb. She can vaguely sense some presence from within, just like she could with her own children. ''I think it's too early, dear sister.''

Barristan asks, looking proud of his young queen. ''That does now raise the question of our next moves. Do we turn our gaze south, or stay put until the baby comes?''

Jon says. ''I'd say it gives us more reason to turn south, Ser Barristan. A Targaryen baby cannot be born into a Lannister world. Besides, we have our army, our naval force are strong, and we have four dragons.'' Daenerys adds onto her husband's point. ''Besides, the king and I have a few ideas.''

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

With the king and queen on minimal duties and rest orders from Elia, Shaena and Oberyn assume responsibility for managing the recovery from the war. Oberyn and Barristan are heading up a war council for how to deal with Cersei, they'll not be marching south for another month at least, but it is best to know what to do ahead of time. Sansa and Elia are tending to the hospital in the great hall with Maester Wolkan. So, Shaena buttons her Voice cloak on over her black and red gown, and goes to see the dragons. It's snowing today, just a light dusting compared to the blizzards of the past months. She finally reaches the clearing, Drogon is feasting on a large cow. Rhaegal is slumbering next to him, the bones of three goats under his chin. Viserion is also fast asleep. Nymerax is wide awake, eating her hunt of a cow. ''Good day, Nym. Enjoying your meal?'' Shaena asks, petting her dragon daughter. Nymerax huffs, her breath smoking in the cold air. ''You all did so well in the battle, we won because of you.''

Shaena looks into the crater, the corpse of Essovion hasn't been moved yet. Truth be told, no one has any idea what to do with it. So, it's just laying there, collecting snow and dust. It's sad, the oldest dragon in the world, and last to see Valyria at its peak, rotting away to nothing in a crater. ''What do I do with the body? Should we just leave it here?''

Daenys speaks to her from beyond, her voice calm and assuring. ''Essovion will return to nature, my dear, just as we all do eventually. Leave him be, the earth can reclaim his body. His soul is with us, which is much more important.''

Shaena asks her ancestress. ''Daenys, could you show me something, please?''

Daenys asks. ''What do you wish to see, dear?''

Shaena thinks, and requests. ''A happy family memory from you, Gaemon, and your parents.''

Daenys says. ''Of course.'' Shaena closes her eyes.

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

She arrives in the same Valyrian palace, this time under a gorgeous spring day. Not a cloud in the sky, birds and dragons flying freely together, radiant sunshine. Shaena hears the familiar sound of children laughing outside, just like her own family with Oberyn. She ventures outside, feeling very overdressed. Aenar and Shaena the elder are in the courtyard, sitting near their beloved dragons. Dressed for flying. Essovion gleaming white under the sun, and Anzarys shining like an amethyst. With them, their four children. Gaemon, wooden sword in hand, is playing with a young Rhovior. Daenys laughs, Viridys' head in her lap. ''Children, shall we fly today? Are you two ready for that?'' Aenar asks.

Gaemon and Daenys nod, eager to get up in the air. ''Yes, papa!'' Gaemon says, easily only nine or ten. His sister a girl of seven or eight, says. ''Up, Viridys, time to fly!''

Shaena mounts up on Anzarys. ''Alright, darlings, just as we've taught you.'' Gaemon excitedly leaps onto Rhovior's back, the blue dragon barely flinches. Aenar mounts up third. Daenys elegantly sits herself astride Viridys. ''Now, hold tight, and say the word.'' Aenar instructs them.

The children do as told, and say. ''Soves!'' Their dragons taking flight with riders for the first time. Their proud parents also take off. And, for the first time, all four Targaryens fly together.

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

Shaena opens her eyes, feeling warm inside and out now. She prays to the gods that the same future awaits her sister and nephew. Happily married with a big family around them, and plenty of new dragons and direwolves to match. Shaena looks upon the corpse once more, and heeds her ancestress' wishes to let nature reclaim the body. His soul is with Aenar now, where it belongs. They won the war, and that's all that matters to her now.

Now, they can get rid of Cersei's regime in the capital.

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

Oh, boy, this one took longer than I wanted it to, and I'm not all the way happy with it. But, the long night has come, and the living have won the war for the dawn. The Prince and Princess Who Were Promised and The Voice of Valyria have led their troops to a massive victory. The first of three they'll need for a better world to be built.

Enjoy!

[extristitiavenit]

Joseph was onto something when he’d said that John’s interest were usually fleeting, mostly because he was just going through the motions all the time and nothing ever halted him in his steps like this beautiful young lady in front of him, once she prompted him to turn around he didn’t want to argue with her but… he did wonder why she was so sweet to him. The feeling of her hands along his back was enough to let him roll his head back and let out a soft hum, her touch was so soft and he was addicted to it. “take care of me? I’m not a child” he murmured as he turned to face her again, his eyes landing on her beautiful crystalline eyes that only mirrored the adoration in his own, causing him to plastered a permanent smile on his face.

He brought his hands up to hers to guide them along his chest while she washed so meticulously, he knew she was probably wondering about the scars and when she’d given them a kiss— his mouth damn near dropped open out of shock she’d even had the balls to do that, most women he’d been with were almost afraid to touch him like they’d rip the scarred tissue again but there she was… being gentle yet still acknowledging them. “oh.. my god” the realization that she was too sweet was hitting him, his eyes widened when he realized just how badly it would hurt the moment she was out of his life and he didn’t want to cope with that right now, he couldn’t cope with that right now.

In a feat of self distraction, he brought his hands up to gently cup both sides of her face and pull her ever so closely so he could press the softest kiss he’d ever had in him to her lips, she was just.. so precious. “you’re too sweet for me.” He murmured softly when he’d pulled away since he was mere inches away from her lips. That didn’t mean he was going to let her slip between his fingers either, his hands moved slowly down the length of her shoulders until he reached her hands, using them to raise her arms and twirl her around so she was now pressed against his chest with her back; locking her arms in front of her so he could just hold her under the warm stream of water for a moment.

“you’re a worrier, aren’t you?” he whispered, not meaning it in any rude way of course. “I.. haven’t had that, just worries that I’ll fuck up peoples plans up and that’s the only assumption I get.” Of course he was talking about his family, but he didn’t want to get into that right now but he wanted to make her aware of his lack of... love. Instead, he let his hands move from her arms to smooth over her stomach, his hands moving ever slow slightly downward but stopping before it went too far. “everything is telling me to worship your body right now and… god, that's... pathetic” He was an extremist, again joseph was very right about that. But something about her was a slow burn, he wanted to experience every painful moment of depriving himself of that simple act of buckling to his knees and killing ever inch of her perfect body. "hand me the soap, I'm going to worship your body in every way that I can without starting something in the shower... I'm telling you shower sex is so hard." he was honest about the fact he'd probably get too horny to finish showering, so at least there was that.

Too Sweet - @ohtheblissx

It was a day like any other for john, the rise and shine grind of stammering out of bed and into his kitchen to use the blender for his morning brew, bliss oil, jimson weed and coffee all ground together with just a pinch of hazelnut for task before he was soon his bouncing and charismatic self. Once the sun had come up, yes he woke before the sun, he had already been clad in a pair of tight skinny jeans, to avoid baggage during baptism and of course he wanted to make sure he looked his best so he had a relatively nice dress shirt, his vest to feel fancier and of course a shit ton of hair gel to keep that mess back in the water. He knew he had a long day ahead, so he grabbed several thermoses to fill his morning concoction for the go and he was out the door, barely beating the morning light.

Most days reserved for baptism had a lot of thought put into it, showmanship, scripts and it was a spectacle to be seen so he knew he had to be at his best. Unfortunately that meant being cracked out of his mind, tearing up the roads of hope county in his beloved car and making an entire ass of himself to the early rising farmers as he’d passed by. Once he was at his usual baptism spot he’d seen his devout workers already hard at work dumping the bliss into the shallow water and creating a natural barrier to attempt to keep it all maintained. He abhorred Faith for her littering, but this was a necessary evil. Eyeroll.

Black boots hit the morning dew-soaked grass beneath his car door, his eyes squinting at the sun beaming over the mountains even despite having his signature shades on, the bliss had made everything so more vibrant. “brothers, sisters.” He sighed out, he was exhausted much like any addict he didn’t sleep much and that attributed to his foul mood, not that he could take it out on any of his followers without joseph reprimanding him. “make sure after you bless the waters you get rid of those containers, and I mean get rid of. If I so much as see a single barrel on the side of the waters west of the henbane.. there will be hell to pay.” He wanted so badly to spit that out more aggressively than he did, but he knew that sometimes people got butthurt and ran back to run their mouths for brownie points, so he settled with clenching his jaw and gesturing for them to commence.

Him on the other hand, he had an entire roster of people who were willing to be baptized and usually they had a few not so willing participants but— today's schedule was cleared. The only thing that he was dreading was the fact that he was expected to be there upon pickup of every participant of the evenings event.

Which meant he had to sit either passenger inside of the van or spend all day driving himself to each location, so to save on gas and his own peace of mind he went with the van. One visit turned into two, minutes turned into hours and as many fake smiles as he had to muster was enough to drive a normal person insane, but john wasn’t normal and he’d spent the entire trip sipping on bliss and taking it easy. Half of the time he was on his phone scrolling aimlessly and trying not to get a boner, but eventually the time had come. They had picked up the final passenger in the van, and the show was about to begin.

Once they had been at the river and everyone had gotten themselves prepared, it was time for John to make his scene. It was only a few minutes before he was about to walk down to the edge of the water when one of his devout followers came up to him to whisper the news, there was a deputy on their way through town and a birdy had heard they were investigating the happenings at Eden’s Gate. There was almost a glint of excitement that washed over him, the dread of monotony was taking a toll on him and this was the spark that he needed to get his motivation back. What better way to have showmanship if you don’t have new fans? Of course part of him halfway expects it to be a yee yee local cop, but regardless of that he was ready to get the baptism on the go. If he could get the majority out of the way before the arrival of the newest victim deputy, it would be a lot less stressful.

[millenialfanfictionaddiction]

Mom my kids are finally registered for school and start Monday, they're doctors gave me huge issues about getting their freaking shot records of all things which I need for them to be enrolled, but now I can stop thinking about how the Haikyuu dad's would react to dropping their kids off at school on the first day. It's infecting my brain lmfao.

Oh my god this idea is so freaking adorable 🥺🥺🥺 please we need all the dads!!!

Featuring Bokuto, Atsumu and Oikawa

No warnings, all fluff 🥰

Let me know if you want me to do more characters! Honestly these are so cute!

Bokuto

Cries, balls, literally enters emo mode for the entire rest of the week

His little princess is starting school and he's not ready 😫

You've done everything you possibly can to prepare your daughter and she's ready

But your husband on the other hand 😬

"Kotarou you can't just stand by the door waiting for her to come out of school. Thats super creepy and also, she's fine!" You say, trying to console your deflated husband

"YN she's so little! What if someone picks on her? What if she gets lost? Oh my god should be have bought her a cell phone???" Bokuto exclaims, fully freaking out.

You sigh, hugging your husband from behind and rest your head in his shoulder, "Ko she's 5, I promise she will be ok! I have a great idea, how about we head home and we can pick her up together before you head to afternoon practice! Then you can see how awesome her first day was!"

Bokuto just nods in agreement, knowing you are right but still saddened that his first born is growing up right before his eyes.

Atsumu

The silent worrier

Seriously he acts composed but he's not

Will watch out the window a full hour before your son's bus is due to arrive so he won't miss it

"That's it, I'm calling the school!" Atsumu says, throwing his hands up and walkingnto his phone.

"Sumu stop it! It's still 5 minutes before the bus is suppose to arrive," you say rolling your eyes and taking cookies from the oven

"YN the bus schedule says drop off time between 2:50 and 3:05, it is now 3:01! Don't ya think they are cutting it a bit close?" Atsumu shouts as you stand there, staring at your moronic husband.

"Sumu, it's going to be fine! The first week of school is always hectic. Give the poor bus driver a break and stop being such a stickler."

"I'm not a stickler YN! There is nothing wrong with holding people accountable for the actions," Atsumu explains

In reality, he's barely holding it together. The thought of your son being away from him for so long is breaking his heart.

Oikawa

The most prepared yet dramatic

Has personally purchased the list of school supplies and color coordinated everything

Will start new traditions with your daughter that he will continue into her college years

"Ok sweetie! Wave at the camera for Uncle Iwa, Makki and Mattsun!" Your husband says, waving his fingers in the air and being so freaking adorable.

"Toru, you've take at least 50 pictures not to mention you documented her entire morning routine on your Instagram reels," you say, arms crossed as you watch your husband fuss of your daughter.

"YN this is a big moment for us, please don't ruin it," Toru says as you roll your eyes at him.

"Come on sweetheart, let's get you in the car before your dad realizes that your hair is totally lopsided," you say, leading your daughter to your car and slightly teasing your husband.

"YN why didn't you say anything earlier?" Toru cries as you just laugh.

He just wants everything to be so perfect for his precious baby.