#my sister had to help with this since ive never seen skins

[i-crav3-blo0d]

sid jenkins (skins) stimboard ? :')

Sid stimboard!

By i-crave-blood

[kckt88]

Drowning Inside You IV

Summary:

Aemond and Valaera settle into their new lives on Driftmark.

-Features an Aemond POV

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!!

Warning(s): Mini Time Skip, Inner thoughts, Language, Kissing, Mild Angst, Possessive Behaviour, Child Birth, Arguement.

Word Count: 4339

Author Note: An Alpha/Omega Story.

P.S - Some Scenes/Dialogue from Dynasty has been reused.

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the House of The Dragon or Fire & Blood characters nor do I claim to own them. I do not own any of the images used.

Comments, likes, and reblogs are very much appreciated.

“You will die screaming in flames just like your father did. Bastards”

“My father’s still alive”

“She doesn’t know does she? Lord Strong”

Aemond stared down the dark passageway and took a deep breath.

This was where it happened. Where I lost my eye.

Many weeks had passed since Aemond, Valaera and their pups had moved to Driftmark, and it had taken just as many weeks before Aemond had summoned enough courage to venture into this particular passageway.

Valaera had offered to come with him, but this was something that Aemond needed to do on his own.

The passageway was dark and cold. It almost seemed like it was endless.

As Aemond took a few steps into the darkness, he realised how much things had changed since that night.

Aemond thought of Valaera as he continued down the passage.

His sweet Omega, the mother of his children and the love of his life.

She had left her mark, permanently etched onto Aemond’s skin. Even before they were mated.

“Maybe your cousins could find you a pig to ride. It would suit you”.

Claiming Vhagar on the day of her previous rider’s funeral perhaps wasn’t the best idea, but he wanted so badly to have a dragon of his own.

His cradle egg had never hatched, and he always felt like the odd one out.

Always on the receiving end of his brothers jokes.

But Vhagar, saw something in him that night. It wasn’t just him that claimed her. She claimed him in return.

He was always meant for the sky. Sure, Vhagar was often grumpy and liked her sleep, but when they were soaring together in the clouds, he knew she felt it too.

Their bond.

The day he claimed her, was the day he found the missing part of his soul.

He wasn’t her first rider. But he would most likely be her last.

Too think one day he would be without Vhagar.

No. Not yet. Maybe they could die together. Dragon and rider bound forever.

Aemond shook his head, he didn’t want to think of death. Only life.

At last, he had made it to the end of the passage. He would never need to come down here again. But it was something he just had to do. For himself.

To finally make peace.

Aemond opened the heavy door and smiled as he was greeted by Valaera and their pups.

“Everything ok?” asked Valaera as she placed Vaella in her father’s arms.

“It’s more than ok Issa dōna” (my sweet).

“So, what’s the plan for today?”

“Well, seen as we are both free of our duties for today, I would like to spend time with my family” replied Aemond sweetly.

“Come. Helaena is waiting for us on the beach” whispered Valaera.

Aemond nodded and followed Valaera as she headed towards the beach. Vhalarr of course still fast asleep in his mother’s arms.

“U-Uncle Aemy,” cried a sweet voice.

“Daena” exclaimed Aemond as he bent down to hug his niece.

“Found a shell. Look” cooed Daena as she opened her hand and showed her uncle the brightly coloured shell.

Aemond moved back to observe what Daena was showing him and he smiled.

“That’s a fantastic one. Another for your collection” mused Aemond as he sat beside his sister in the sand.

“Mama said I can make them into a necklace” gasped Daena as she flopped into Helaena’s arms.

“I’m sure uncle Aemy would love to help” muttered Valaera.

Aemond glared at his Omega as she sat next to him.

I hate that nickname and she knows it. I only tolerate it for the sake of my niece.

Just wait until we are alone my sweet mate, I will make you regret teasing me.

Almost as if she could read his thoughts, Valaera slowly turned to him and placed a delicate kiss on his cheek.

“Don’t worry Alpha. You can spank me later” whispered Valaera.

Did she just? Yes, she did. My naughty Omega. I’ll spank her so good later.

“So, brother. How are you finding Driftmark so far?” asked Helaena.

“Better than the Red Keep” muttered Aemond.

“You were trapped there. But here you will grow into a beautiful flower” exclaimed Helaena happily as she took hold of Vaella.

“Aemond. A beautiful flower?” laughed Baela.

“I’d rather be a beautiful flower than a measly weed” retorted Aemond.

“Who are you calling a weed?” snapped Baela.

“You. You’re the weed” exclaimed Aemond.

“Oh, here they go again” muttered Valaera as Aemond and Baela began bickering back and forth and trading insults with one another.

“Best just let them get on with it” said Helaena as she began cooing at Vaella.

Initially Valaera was a little worried how Baela would react to Aemond living on Driftmark, but some awkwardness in the beginning the two of them actually got along. Most of the time.

Baela and Aemond regularly indulged in insults and small arguments. Aemond claimed it was some form of bonding between Alpha’s but to Valaera they just looked like squabbling siblings.

“Yeah, well you smell like dragon shit”.

“Well, I do ride a dragon and if I smell then so do you” quipped Aemond.

“So, Helaena how is your spider colony coming along?” asked Valaera.

“Very well. Baela found me a black widow”.

“Aren’t they poisonous” gasped Valaera.

“Yes, but they only bite as a last resort. Respect them and they respect you” replied Helaena.

“I’ll bear that in mind” muttered Valaera.

I don’t like spiders. But I won’t tell Helaena.

Suddenly Vhalarr let out a high-pitched cry.

“I-Is he ok?” asked Aemond.

“He’s fine. Just hungry” said Valaera as she loosened her dress and held Vhalarr to her breast.

“Are you two finished bonding?” asked Helaena.

“Yes sweetling” whispered Baela.

“Pass me a bucket” mocked Aemond as he pretended to be sick.

“Says you. Oh, Valaera Jorrāelagon hen issa glaeson, Issa prūmia, Issa dōna ābrazȳrys” laughed Baela (Love of my life, my heart, my sweet wife).

“Shut up” snapped Aemond.

“Maybe just be quieter when your bedding your Omega,” said Baela.

“Or maybe they should be more discreet when they have sex in the library”.

“Helaena” gasped Valaera.

“And the gardens or the beach” added Baela smirking.

“Baela” snapped Valaera, her cheeks-tinged red.

“Honestly Valaera, I’m surprised you’re not pupped again the amount of sex you two have”.

“This conversation is not happening” grumbled Valaera as she looked over at Aemond who was trying to hide a smirk.

The audacity. He’s actually proud of it. I can’t believe it.

“Too late Laera. It’s already happened,” laughed Baela.

“Is everything ok?” asked Aemond as he sat on the bed.

“I’m fine” snapped Valaera as she ripped off her dress and threw it to the floor.

“Are you sure about that. I can sense something is wrong” replied Aemond.

“I-I was just a little embarrassed by what Baela said that’s all”.

“Why are you lying to me?” mused Aemond.

“I’m not lying” said Valaera quickly as she ducked behind a privacy screen and began pulling off the rest of her clothes.

“Yes, you are. I know you well enough by now”.

“I need to check on the twins” urged Valaera as she reemerged wearing her night clothes.

“Vhalarr and Vaella are already asleep for the night. Please Laera, talk to me” begged Aemond as he sprang from the bed and took his Omega into his arms.

I can feel it. She’s nervous. Please my sweet tell me what’s wrong.

Valaera seemed to hesitate for a moment, her eyes shining with tears.

“I-I forgot to take the tea and now-“ sobbed Valaera as she buried her face in Aemond’s chest.

“-Your with child” whispered Aemond.

“I’m sorry Alpha, it’s just when Baela made that comment about us, I realised my monthly bleeding is really late” cried Valaera.

“It’s ok. You don’t have to apologize”.

“Y-You’re not angry?” asked Valaera.

“Why would I be angry my sweet, your carrying another pup” whispered Aemond.

“But the twins are only six moons old” sniffed Valaera.

“But they’ll be well over a name day old before the next pup is born. I’m sure we’ll manage, but if you’re not ready for another pup just yet, then I won’t force you” muttered Aemond.

“No. Aemond, I want this pup. I was just a little worried and overwhelmed,” said Valaera.

“I just want you to know that I will support you no matter what. Were in this together, and you know that I’ll be with you every step of the way” replied Aemond.

Forgive me for being silly. I know you’ll be there for me Alpha.

“I love you Aemond. More than anything”

“I love you too my sweet girl. But perhaps on the morrow you should call on Maester Selkin”

Valaera nodded and smiled.

I know I’m with child again. But it will be good to have it confirmed.

“I don’t suppose you fancy a stroll in the gardens?” asked Aemond smirking.

“What, now? I’m in my night clothes”.

“Or mayhaps a visit to the library” said Aemond smirking.

Surely, he’s not suggesting.

Oh my god he is. He’s insatiable. My naughty Alpha.

“Only if we find a more secluded place” replied Valaera blushing.

“For reading?” laughed Aemond.

“Yes Alpha. Reading” said Valaera smiling.

“I wonder if our pup was conceived whilst we were reading?”

“It’s entirely possible” mused Valaera.

“That’s it Princess, keep pushing” encouraged Maester Selkin.

“AEMOND!” screamed Valaera.

“I’m here my sweet” replied Aemond.

“I-I can’t do this,” cried Valaera.

“Yes, you can” exclaimed Aemond as he climbed onto the bed at sat behind Valaera.

“W-What are you doing?” muttered Valaera.

“Lean against me and take my hands” urged Aemond as he sat Valaera between his open legs.

This is better. I can feel my Alpha. He’s here. He’s helping. He’s taking care of me.

“Now, you squeeze my hands as hard as you like” said Aemond.

Valaera was sweaty and exhausted, but she took a deep breath and as the next contraction ripped across her stomach, she pushed.

“FUCK!”

“The head is out Princess, but I need you to stop pushing. The cord is wrapped around the babe’s neck” exclaimed Maester Selkin.

“W-What” cried Valaera in alarm.

“It’s ok. Issa dōna ābrazȳrys. Just breathe” said Aemond (My sweet wife).

After a few moments, the Maester had managed to cut the cord from the babe’s neck and with one last push the babe arrived.

But the room was silent.

“M-My babe?” asked Valaera her hands raised in expectation of receiving her pup.

“Just a moment” replied Maester Selkin as the babe was lifted off the bed.

“What’s happening?” yelled Valaera, her hands still grasping for her babe.

Why is my babe not crying? What’s happening? Please someone.

“Alpha” sobbed Valaera, her entire body shaking.

Aemond could only sit in silence as he watched the Maester try to save his newly born pup.

Valaera began wailing loudly in anguish, as the seconds passed. She couldn’t think of anything except his pup. Not even the pain of the afterbirth swayed her mind away from the quiet bundle in Maester Selkin’s arms.

No. Please. Don’t take my babe. Please I pray to the mother. I pray to the god’s of old Valyria.

Then the sweetest sound in the world echoed around the room.

A shrieking cry.

“A son, Princess” declared the Maester.

Valaera all but snatched the crying babe away from Maester Selkin and sobbed.

“T-Thank you maester” breathed Valaera, the tears streaming down her face.

“Your welcome Princess” replied Maester Selkin.

“H-He’s ok. Aemond, look” gasped Valaera.

Aemond who’s face had been buried in Valaera’s shoulder, let out a sob of relief as he gazed at his crying son.

My son. He’s ok. He’s alive. Thank the gods.

“What shall we call him?” asked Aemond.

“Aemon” whispered Valaera smiling as she gently rocked their new pup.

“A-After me” questioned Aemond in awe.

“There is no other name for him. He is the very image of you,” said Valaera.

He has a full head of silver hair. I don’t think I’ve ever seen that much hair on a babe.

But his eyes. They were different.

His pup had one amethyst eye and the other was brown. The exact same shade as his mother.

“He’s so beautiful, his eyes are unlike anything I’ve ever seen” cooed Valaera.

“I’m so proud of you Issa prūmia” (My heart).

“W-We have three pups now” sighed Valaera as she leaned back against Aemond.

“My sweet perfect Omega” praised Aemond as he nuzzled Valaera’s mating mark.

A good Alpha should treasure his Omega. Make her feel special. Make her feel loved.

“Alpha” gasped Valaera as he felt the rush of Aemond’s love and devotion through their bond.

“Would you like you hold your pup?”

“Please” whispered Aemond as he manoeuvred himself away from Valaera and climbed off the bed.

Their pup. They almost lost him. But he’s here. He’s safe. My son.

Aemond cried openly when his Omega placed their tiny pup in his arms.

“A-Are you ok?” asked Valaera her voice laced with concern.

Aemond nodded meekly as his gaze never leaving his precious pup.

"Princess, shall we get you cleaned up?” asked a midwife.

“Papa up” urged Vhalarr eagerly.

“Be careful sweet boy” said Aemond as he helped his son climb onto the bed.

“Mama. Baba” cooed Vhalarr as he nuzzled against his mother.

“That’s right. Vaella my darling come here” exclaimed Valaera.

Vaella shook her head and clung to Aemond, burying her head into his shoulder.

“W-What’s wrong?” asked Valaera.

“Mama no hurt” whispered Vaella.

“I’m ok, I promise” replied Valaera.

“Don’t worry issa dōna tala” muttered Aemond, as he placed Vaella on the bed next to Valaera (my sweet daughter).

“This is your brother Aemon”.

“Aemy” whispered Vaella.

Valaera had to bite her lip to stop her from laughing at the look on Aemond’s face.

“Isn’t he tiny” muttered Valaera softly.

“Gevie” whispered Vaella as she looked at her newborn brother (Beautiful).

“Well done tala” said Aemond proudly.

“Lēkia” exclaimed Vhalarr (Brother).

“H-How did they?” gasped Valaera.

“I’ve been reading to them in our mother tongue. I guess they’ve picked up a few words here and there” declared Aemond smiling widely.

“Avy jorrāelan valzȳrys” whispered Valaera (I love you husband).

Aemond sat on the edge of the bed and placed a gentle kiss on his Omega’s cheek.

“Ao issi vok issa darling” muttered Aemond (You are perfect my darling).

“Mama Zaldrīzes” said Vaella excitedly as a warming chamber was brought into the room (Dragon).

“Syrax brought forth another clutch. Your mother sent three eggs for the children”.

“Vhalarr and Vaella?” asked Valaera.

“They’ve already chosen their eggs” muttered Aemond as he opened the warming pan and showed Valaera the red and gold-tinged egg.

Valaera could sense Aemond’s unease. He feared his children would be without dragons just as he was. He did not want them to feel as though they weren’t enough.

“īlva riñar jāhor emagon zaldrīzoti valzȳrys” (Our children will have dragons husband).

“Nyke gīmigon yn nyke nykeēdrosa worry” replied Aemond. (I know but I still worry).

I have every faith, Alpha. Our children will fly beside you.

“Shall we put Aemon in his crib with his egg?” asked Valaera.

“Yes” Vhalarr and Vaella declared in unison.

“Allow me” said Aemond as he took his son and placed him in the crib beside their bed.

The egg was placed beside Aemon, and they all watched as the tiny babe, reached out and placed his hand on the ridged shell.

“Do not worry my love. Our children are meant for the sky. Just like you”

“I know they are” replied Aemond quietly as he wrapped his arms around Valaera and held her close.

That night, Driftmark was graced with the screeches of three new dragons emerging into the world eager to greet their riders.

Night time at Driftmark was always rather pleasant, the light of the moon, the sound of the sea, and the smell of salt upon the air.

It made Valaera happy; she was glad to call it home.

Not that she hated Dragonstone or Kings Landing, it’s just Driftmark was where she felt close to her father Laenor.

Sure, Valaera knew that Laenor wasn’t her biological father, but he was the man that called Valaera his daughter no matter who sired her.

She missed Laenor terribly at times, especially now she had children of her own.

But she was also glad for Daemon. Of course, the Rogue Prince still terrified her at times, but she knew for all his outwardly bravado Daemon was a good man who loved her mother the way she deserved to be loved.

Rather like Aemond in a way. Valaera had been terrified for many years that her uncle would seek retribution for his eye but here they were happy and in love with three beautiful pups.

Sometimes it’s funny how things work out.

As Valaera entered the chambers, she shared with Aemond she was stopped in her tracks at the sight that greeted her.

Her Alpha sat by the fire, with their six week old pup fast asleep on his bare chest.

“Issa dōna riñītsos” whispered Aemond.(My sweet little boy).

Valaera smiled and simply observed her husband and their son.

“Issa byka zaldrīzes” (My tiny dragon).

Despite his initial fears over what type of father he would be, Valaera could say with absolute certainty that Aemond was an amazing father.

The love he had for their pups was unparalleled.

Most Alpha’s left the upbringing of pups to their Omega mothers. But Aemond had insisted from day one that he be included, whether it was changing their soiled cloths or simply rocking them to sleep.

He was there.

The other half of my heart. My Alpha. My dragon.

“Valzȳrys” whispered Valaera. (Husband).

Aemond turned towards his Omega and smiled. His sapphire eye glistening in the dim light of the fire.

“Is everything ok? Issa prūmia” asked Aemond. (My heart).

“The twins are fast asleep with their dragons, and I’ve had my check up with Maester Selkin”

Aemond raised a curious eyebrow at Valaera’s mention of the Maester.

“He’s declared me healthy and ready to engage in matters of the marriage bed” replied Valaera.

“But-” said Aemond.

“I-I would like to wait just a little bit longer if that’s ok?” muttered Valaera.

“Of course, it is. I will wait for as long as required. The Maester can declare you sufficiently healed, but it’s your body Valaera and you’ll know when you’re ready” replied Aemond.

Could he be any more perfect? What did I do to earn such a wonderful caring Alpha?

“Besides there are other forms of intimacy besides sex” whispered Aemond as he carefully placed Aemon in his crib.

“Such as?” asked Valaera.

“I could hold you in my arms as you sleep, or mayhaps we could simply take a walk on the beach together” suggested Aemond.

“A walk on the beach” muttered Valaera shyly.

“I know how much you like the moon my precious pearl” replied Aemond as he pulled on a loose tunic and slipped his eyepatch over his head.

“I will call Tarla to watch Aemon” said Valaera as she quickly left the room and reappeared a few moments later with the nanny.

“We shouldn’t be gone long” muttered Aemond.

“Of course, my Prince. I will watch over the little one whilst you are gone” replied Tarla.

“Come my sweet” said Aemond as he held out his hand.

Valaera took one last look at their sleeping pup before she took her Alpha’s outstretched hand and the two of them left the room.

Aemond could help but smile to himself as he walked hand in hand with Valaera, the chill of the sea washing over their toes.

“Thank you for this” exclaimed Valaera happily.

“I live to make you happy my sweet. Mayhaps on the morrow I can take you flying on Vhagar, my old girl has been feeling quite restless lately” replied Aemond.

“Has it been a while since you flew together?” asked Valaera.

“I haven’t taken her out since before Aemon was born”.

That was surprising, Aemond never usually went more than a week without flying Vhagar.

“I-Is that because of me?” asked Valaera nervously.

“No, in truth I’ve been feeling a bit strange lately”.

“S-Strange?” mused Valaera curiously.

“Yes, the thought of being separated from you or our pups has me on edge. It’s difficult to explain but since we almost lost Aemon…”

“I understand Alpha” muttered Valaera.

“Things have been better recently; I feel ready to fly again” replied Aemond as he swept Valaera into his arms and held her close, breathing in her sweet scent.

“A raven arrived earlier, from your mother” mumbled Valaera.

“What does the Queen have to say?”

“She asked that we visit Kings Landing and bring the children,” said Valaera.

“No” growled Aemond as he stepped away from Valaera.

“She also writes that your father grows weaker by the day”.

“All the more reason for us to stay away” muttered Aemond.

“Aemond”

“I said no Valaera” snapped Aemond.

“I would like to introduce Aemon to the King before he passes” replied Valaera.

“WHY WON’T YOU LISTEN TO ME” shouted Aemond.

“I-I’m sorry-“ stammered Valaera.

“MY PUPS WILL NOT BE AWAY FROM ME” roared Aemond.

“A-Alpha. Please.” begged Valaera, her head lowered in submission.

The anger poured from her Alpha like acid rain and stung just as deep.

Never had Aemond been so angry. His scent was making Valaera feel sick.

“A-Aemond” sobbed Valaera, the tears streaming down her face.

I will not be separated from my pups. I have to keep them safe. I will not have my mother scorn Aemon for his mismatched eyes. I refuse to have my father pretend to care about my pups. Even if he is sick.

Wait. My Omega. She’s distressed and scared.

Suddenly Aemond seemed to come back to himself, he blinked several times and immediately tried to take the sobbing Omega into his arms.

But Valaera flinched away from him.

“I’m sorry Valaera, I just-“

“N-No. You don’t get to speak to me like that. I-I might be an Omega, but I am your mate, were supposed to be partners” sniffed Valaera wiping her snotty nose on her sleeve.

“Omega please” begged Aemond.

“NO! You stay away from me” shouted Valaera the tears still pouring down her face.

“B-But…” exclaimed Aemond.

“Don’t you bother coming back to our chambers tonight. Find somewhere else to sleep” cried Valaera as she turned on her heel and ran away from her Alpha.

Sleeping alone was the absolute worst.

Aemond tossed and turned on the lumpy unfamiliar bed and whined at the absence of his Omega.

Since they married, they’d never spent a night apart.

The Alpha cursed himself for getting so angry with his Omega. It wasn’t Valaera’s fault at all.

Sitting there holding his wailing Omega in his arms was something Aemond wouldn’t never forget.

That day he’d felt so helpless.

He was the rider of the mighty Vhagar, the largest dragon in the world and all he could do as the Maester tried to save his pup was just sit there.

But what else could I do? I don’t like feeling like this. Please Omega.

Aemond whined again and then he felt it.

His Omega. Valaera was crying out for him through their bond.

Aemond flew off the bed and raced back to his chambers.

Soon he was standing in front of the heavy wooden door. The guardsman on watch simply stepped aside and allowed the Alpha entry.

Valaera was huddled on the bed clutching one of Aemond’s cloaks. Her breath hitching every so often as she cried.

“Alpha” begged Valaera.

Please. Come back. I’m sorry. I need you.

“A-Aemond” howled Valaera.

“I’m here Issa jorrāelagon” replied Aemond. (My love).

“Alpha. Please”

Aemond didn’t need telling twice and he leapt onto the bed, reaching for his Omega.

“Nyke sorry issa dōna. Shijetra issa” said Aemond (I’m sorry my sweet. Forgive me).

“N-Never leave me again. Swear to me. I don’t want to be alone”.

“I swear to you my love that I will never leave you” replied Aemond.

“I don’t like feeling like this. It hurts to be away from you”.

“Then I’ll stay. Forever” muttered Aemond as he rubbed his nose along Valaera’s scent gland.

My Omega. My sweet. Love of my life.

“Kiss me” urged Valaera.

Aemond hesitated for a moment before he surged forward and pressed his lips against Valaera’s.

Valaera almost seemed to merge with Aemond as she pressed herself closer.

Gods, I want her. His scent. It’s driving me crazy.

The Alpha inside him was screaming at him to take his Omega and knot her. But Aemond knew he couldn’t. Not yet.

“V-Valaera. We should stop” gasped Aemond.

“No. I want you” begged Valaera.

“You’re not ready. I won’t be able to stop myself from knotting you. Let me just wrap my arms around you” gasped Aemond.

“O-Ok” muttered Valaera feeling a little dejected, but deep down she knew Aemond was right, no matter if her Omega was begging for her Alpha to take her, she wasn’t physically ready.

“I don’t want us to fight”.

“Me either” replied Valaera quietly.

“W-We could go to Kings Landing, but the pups stay with us or Tarla at all times”.

It was a compromise. Even though Aemond dreaded his mother’s reaction to Aemon he knew Valaera missed her brothers and if truth be told Aemond did kind of miss Aegon, even if he was a massive twat with a punchable face.

Valaera nodded slightly and closed hers eyes.

Aemond had reacted so strongly to almost losing Aemon that he was overcompensating on his protectiveness. His Alpha instincts going crazy.

They would sort out the details of their trip to Kings Landing on the morrow, but right now all Valaera wanted to do was bask in her Alpha’s scent and forget this day ever happened.

[coffee-with-pigeon-milk]

TW Body image discussions and Fatphobia. TW also for self harm and eating disorders. TW for bullying.

I can't stop crying. I'm sitting in the car after a very long day; and I don't really have anybody I can talk to about this in my real life. In case I haven't told you the last couple of months have been very difficult. I've had to take over the care of my mom while she is fighting for a diagnosis. She had suddenly developed a severe migraine well over two months ago, and it just hasn't gone away.

We have tried everything, and nothing has worked. So we see her family practitioner who ordered testing. Which is fairly standard, except for us. Because of her Ehlers-Danlos, she needs a specialized test. An upright MRI to be specific. Well the only one we are even close to is in Chicago. So off we go. We drive for 4+ hours. We got up before 6 this morning, btw. Anyway, fast forward to 4 pm this afternoon. My mom goes in for her scan and I chose to stay out in the car. Which is shut off and the windows are cracked.

It's a beautiful day and I'm enjoying the chance to rest for a bit. This particular MRI clinic is next to a rec center and lots of people are coming and going. As I'm sitting there I hear the laughter of young men. Maybe...17 years old at the most. I remember that I thought to myself, just ignore them. Close your eyes and feel the breeze. Well when the laughter didn't stop I looked up to see what was going on and guess what.. these two young guys were taking my fucking picture.

One of them took at least one and must have seen me looking back at him through his camera because they looked right at me and psudeo-ran away. Laughing and looking at my car the whole time. I can say without hesitation that I have never been more humiliated in all my life.

I haven't wanted to disappear this bad since I was a teenager myself. I was the girl that people would be dared to ask out, but the second I showed excitement or eagerness... well, let's say that more than once, people laughed in my face. Or called me slurs and mocked me. To my face. I have struggled to find any empathy or even love for myself and have had to claw myself up to even body neutrality.

I'm fat. I have PCOS so I get darker peach fuzz and extra chin hair which i normally wax. However the skin on my chin is darker.. like a sort of shadow. I'm not white. I just cut my hair short to help with ease of care. I'm short. I'm shy. I've never been sexy. Ive always been "cute." I've never been in a relationship with someone I've met in person. I've never had anyone want to stay. I'm also a daughter and a sister and a foster mom for sick kittens. I've been able to save every rescue I've ever had.

That doesn't matter though. I can't even be left alone to enjoy the sunshine without mockery. I'm recovering from eating disorders. I have chronic pain. I am doing my best. What else can I do? I've lost two pounds and I was over the moon because I did it in a healthy way. It is never enough.

I think I'm just gonna finish up with mom and probably go to bed early.

[lqfiles]

HELP SORRY FOR OFFENDING U WITH THE HAECHAN COMMENT 😭😭

no bc if my thoughts on most vs least attractive members to me got leaked i would like get cancelled by the entire community oops 🙈

IVE BEEN TOLD I HAVE SHIT TASTE IN MEN AND MY TASTE IS INCONSISTENT TOOLIKE okay we’re not gonna offend more people sorry guys 😭😭

but haechan haechan THERE WAS THIS ONE REEL I GOT and i was like “holy… he’s mad fine…” and that reel and IDK WHICH LIVE IT WAS BUT HE WAS DRINKING (probably every one of his lives but idk he looked so fine in the clips + edits i’ve seen of it) RE-EVALUATING MY THOUGHTS ON HIM FR. like i’ve always seen him as like more adorable than like… hot/handsome in that way… DOES THAT MAKE SENSE?? IDK AM I CONFUSING HELP WHY AM I DEFENDING MYSELF OOPS

if jaemin and renjun ever do decide to start a cat twitter account i am their first follower 🫡🫡

JAEHYUN BEING SO OLD MAN CODED. does he crack dad jokes… i feel like he would

skin products are such a scam honestly i’ve tried TOO MANY THINGS AT THIS POINT. people always say oh it goes away as you get older but some days i feel like it gets worse and worse. I LOVEEE GASLIGHTING MYSELF ABOUT MY ACNE I’LL BE LIKE… omg there wasn’t as much breakout as there was last week!!! it’s getting better and then the next week it breaks out even worse than before 💀💀 hopefully!! i am still trying my best to get rid of it 💪💪 💕💕

- 🤠

LMFAOOO NOOO OMG WAIT IM NOT OFFENDED TRUSTT i’m able to accept that we don’t find the same people attractive 😓 my oomfs got interesting taste in men too.. we don’t all get each other and that’s okay 💗 i kinda need you to show me your ranking tho.. let me judge you 🤨

THE FACT THAT I JNOW EXACTLY WHAT LIVE YOURE TALIJNG ABOUT BECAUSE I HAVE LIKE 100 PINTEREST PICS SAVED OF THAT LIVE LMFAOOO, it’s the one i used for the haechan as boyfriend headcanon right? i get you tho because haechan loves to be seen as a baby girl like he thrives of the aegyo and being a princess.. and his behaviour is just over so playful and childlike but me personally i’ve BEEN thinking he was hot ever since that one teaser picture of the earthquake mv where he had that cut on his nose and was manspreading.. i was never the same again..

DAD JOKES ARE HIS SPECIALTY!!! such an old man in such an attractive body, he’s such a loser i love it. renjaem cat account and then renjun also gets included in jaemin’s youtube videos EXACTLYYY

LOLLL GASLIGHTING YOURSELF IS SO FUNNY 😭😭😭 my sister always says to not touch it because it will only make it break out more but i quite literally can’t help it like sometimes when i have breakout i’ll touch my face and feel that spot and try to press it away and urghh just annoying.. YOU GOT THIS THO DONT TOUCH IT TOO MUCH AND YOULL BE FINE I THINK 💗💗💗

[ofstarsandskies]

🌟🌟 obligatory one for lulu and purple elle too? also feel better soon n_n

🌟 Drop one of my characters’ names in my inbox and I’ll tell you 10 facts about them 🌟 || @mathcs (Thx btw, least hearing's coming back a bit--)

Unlike most, Elle only takes lukewarm baths or showers as to not dry out her skin. There's also probably not a single skincare routine she hasn't tried and/or is currently using.

Throwing knives as her weapon of choice was mainly due to Victor refusing to let her engage in close range, but also not wanting her to face gun recoil. Engraving the cats was her personal touch.

Elle owes at least half her weapon proficiency to Rideaux, her teacher. His comments hurt at times, but she'll say it also toughened her up. And it taught her how to lie to Victor so there wasn't a murder that night.

Elle began eating tomatoes at around the time she turned 13 after she read tomatoes help reduce sunburn risks. She's no enthusiast, but she won't turn down a good pasta margherita anymore.

Sometimes Elle has Victor braid her ponytails for her to relive old times. She notes Victor takes way longer to do it than her Dad, though.

She's considered the nicknames "Elly", "Noelle", "Ella", and "Elliana" to try and combat the Elle Conundrum when hanging out in Star's dimension. Her younger self just calls her "Big Me"/"Big Elle", which works too (for now).

Despite living in such a secluded spot, Elle does have a small social circle she met online. She's had a couple girls nights over at their homes (though she has to keep her phone glued to her every hour in case Victor goes full helicopter parent).

Elle did actually manage to secure the newer Bunnykins doll after the original got busted for its use of poached monsters. She also has other Bunnykins merch like her favorite Bunnykins Pink pen. Jude's seen what evils she's done with that.

Sometimes she'll summon the Spyrite Origin to help practice how to be an older sister to the little Elle. She also asks questions that Victor wouldn't answer under constant torture (like what Direct Tethering is).

Her usual online screen name is "Pinky Promise🌠" as a loving memory to how she promised Victor they'd go to Canaan together. Though they never made it, she considers the promise met since they're still around post-Trial.

I'mma do 50/50 for SMT IV AU and Canon cause you know why lol

For some reason, Lulu has an odd affinity for trying to play with others' GHS screens. Almost makes you think he's used to it...

Getting fat was all Julius' doing. He thought Lulu needed more food since he was underweight as a kitten, and suffice to say it worked out great--

If you asked him where his favorite spot to be pet, he would say his stomach. At his weight, it's hard to reach and lick without some real kitty extortionist magic.

The bell on his collar was added to make sure if he ever sneaks into the food cabinet, of you'll hear him alright. Still manages occasionally, though.

Due to a mixup, Lulu has drank a Life Bottle before. Luckily all it did to him was give him a drug high only the strongest catnip could ever hope to replicate.

Despite hating water like most cats, Lulu is actually a really good swimmer. He's had to learn due to Issachar sometimes tipping their rowboats on accident.

Though Burroughs does embellish this speech, Lulu actually 'talks' pretty sophisticated in cat language. Other cats from Tokyo can't understand his meows very well because of it.

After many an accident zapping himself straight to the River Styx, Lulu has refined his Thunder Reigns to pierce through Null/Reflect. He's also used this to power can openers he finds to open his cat food cans when humans say 'no more'.

Lulu's favorite songs are hardcore metal. If Jude ever played one in the car, he would yowl along with the vocals cause he finds it fun. Not even Burroughs can tell you why he's like this.

Lulu has tried using the Soulstone from Amaterasu to try and make Jude's car a flying racecar. Alas, since tires don't work in the air, they usually stay grounded so they're not locked to a certain speed.

[neonlights92]

RUN: Chapter IV

Jeon Jungkook hops from bed to bed, sleeping with as many beautiful, rich women as he can possibly find time for.  He’s young and attractive, with a silver tongue that gets him practically anything he wants.  So when his friend and boss, Kim Taehyung, tells him it’s time to settle down, Jungkook takes it pretty badly.  And when he finds out that the woman he’s destined to marry is, in fact, his little sister’s best friend, he is less than impressed.

You have spent your entire life trying to forget the way you feel about Jeon Jungkook.   So when you find out that Jungkook is to be your husband - and that he is anything but pleased about it - your world is thrown into chaos.  How can you survive a loveless marriage with the man you are hopelessly in love with?

WARNINGS: Language, some violence and smut.

A/N: SORRRRRRYYYYY!!!!

You were more confused than ever. 

When Jungkook had promised you a loveless marriage, you knew where you stood at least.

And now… Now what? 

He had kissed you and touched you - like no man ever had before - and now…. You were hungry for him. 

You’d always loved him of course.  Always longed for him.

But not like this.

Your mind kept replaying the other evening’s activities again and again.  Butterflies soared in your stomach just at the sight of Jungkook’s back. 

It was like you had unlocked a second part to your love - this one deeper, more visceral. 

It pained you to be close to him.  It pained you to be away from him.

And your husband…. 

Your husband acted like nothing was different.

In the weeks since that night, Jungkook went back to treating you as a friend.  He took you in his arms as soon as the lights went off - but apart from that, he didn’t touch you. 

You wondered if you’d done something wrong.  Had you offended him somehow? 

Was it because you hadn’t fulfilled your duty as you should? You wracked your brain again and again and again… But just came up empty handed. 

That night had been perfect.  Jungkook had been gentle and playful.  He treated you as though you were something precious to him.

Your heart swelled once again as you thought of the boyish grin he shot you… His fingers on your skin… His lips on your lips. 

God. 

You were like a woman obsessed. 

“Y/N?” 

You were pulled out of your reverie by your husband’s voice.  He was sat across the dining room table from you, his eyes scanning your appearance carefully. 

It seemed he had caught you out yet again on one of your day dreams…

It happened often these days.  Too caught up in remembering your husband’s touch, that you barely even noticed him when he was right in front of you.

“You seem distracted,” His smile was small, “Is everything ok?” 

You nodded and tried to smile back, “I’m fine.  Just uh… Tired.” 

He raised a brow but decided to say nothing, turning back to the sirloin steak he’d just been eating.

You speared a tomato onto your fork as you watched your husband eat, eyes following the planes of his handsome face and heart fluttering around your chest like a hummingbird.

Everything he did seemed to send you into a frenzy, and as his teeth closed around the piece of meat and you watched him swallow it down, your temperature sky-rocketed through the roof. 

Suddenly it was too hot.  You were seeing stars.  You felt like you might explode.

What on earth was wrong with you? 

You stood up quickly, chair scraping back loudly against the wooden floor, and Jungkook stopped what he was doing.

He dropped his fork and cocked his head to the side, “Everything alright?” 

You cleared your throat loudly, tucking your hair behind your ears and pressing your hands against your thighs. 

“Yes.”  You bit your bottom lip, “Yes.  Everything’s fine.  I just.  I’m not hungry.”

His eyes moved to your empty plate, “You’ve barely eaten anything.”

You laughed - the sound empty and hollow - and shrugged, feeling the nerves climbing up your spine.

Could he sense just how anxious you were? 

“I ate a big lunch.”  Your tummy coiled tightly, “I think I’ll just… Go.  To bed.” 

The word bed sent another rush of heat through you, and your cheeks flushed bright pink.  Jungkook’s face was a mask of neutrality.  He never gave a single thing away.

Why couldn’t you be the same?

Hadn’t you both been raised in the mob?

“Okay.”  He licked his bottom lip and your legs trembled at the sight, your hands reaching out to the edge of the table, to steady yourself, “I’ll come join you after I finish.”

You nodded tightly, moving away from him as quickly as possible. 

You felt his eyes following you, even as you left the room, but you refused to meet his gaze. 

That would mean things were truly over. 

Jungkook’s gaze could cut through you like a beam of light, almost.

It should’ve been embarrassing how he affected you.  And yet… You couldn’t bring yourself to care. 

You reached your bedroom and entered quickly, shutting the door behind you and leaning against the cool surface of it’s wood.  You took deep breaths in, calming yourself down, and steadying your pulse now that you were alone.

Your husband was going to be the death of you. 

Jungkook seemed to have no idea what he was doing to you.

And you couldn’t blame him for not knowing.

You were being absolutely ridiculous. 

Weak at the knees from the sight of him eating? 

How old were you?

What was wrong with you? That wasn’t how a woman of your age acted.  It was ridiculous.

And yet… You couldn’t hate yourself for it.

Something about this newfound lust for your husband seemed to send the blood in your veins fizzing.  You felt like a new woman.  Like a lioness had been set free inside of you.

It was cheesy - completely absurd even - but you couldn’t help it.

You wanted your husband to ravage you.

You giggled at your own thoughts, moving towards the ensuite bathroom and running the warm water.  Maybe a bath would help you relax.

It felt like you’d spent the entire evening tense in your husband’s presence - waiting for him to do something that would set you off again - and now your muscles were paying for it.  

You dropped some lavender into the bath, and ran a bubble bar under the tap, watching as foam formed across the steaming water.  This was exactly what you needed. 

The water was heaven against your skin as you sank into the tub, closing your eyes and ridding your mind of your husband’s handsome face.  You could think about him later, couldn’t you?  

Except his long, slender neck kept materialising in your mind's eyes.  You watched again and again as he swallowed the steak, and then slowly it was you he was swallowing.  Your thighs rubbed against one another in some attempt to quell the heat you felt in your core.

But it was just the same as it had been the last few weeks. 

Soon you couldn’t keep yourself occupied anymore, and your hand started to slide towards the apex between your legs.  You imagined it was Jungkook’s fingers dancing across your skin, moving against you - lips covering as much as they could.

It wasn’t the same of course but it would do.

Your fingers finally reached their destination, and you arched your back, wishing it was your husband’s tongue on you.

“Jungkookie,” You breathed, giggling at the nickname you knew he hated, “Oh God.”

A throat cleared itself from behind you. 

You sat up - ramrod straight - and whipped your head around to find your husband himself standing in the open doorway, arms crossed.

“What was that you called me?”  His eyes were dark with lust, “Jungkookie?”

“Oh.”  The word slipped out of  your mouth without your permission, “What are you doing here?” “I came to check up on you.”  He hadn’t moved from his position at the doorway, “I was worried about you.  You were acting so strange at dinner.”  A smile that was somewhere between kind and cruel played on his lips, “Now I know why.”

Your heart was slamming against your chest, as you remembered exactly where you were.

Naked.  In a bathtub.

Your husband didn’t seem to mind.

“Don’t stop on my account,” He rose a brow, “You seemed to be enjoying yourself.”

You felt yourself trembling.  He was enjoying this. 

This… Game.

He was enjoying the way you burned for him.

“I - oh… God.”  You were mortified - but somewhere beneath the shame was something brighter… Harder, “I’m sorry.”

He licked his lips and finally, finally took a step towards you.

“What for?”  He shook his head and came towards the bathtub, kneeling down so his face was level with yours, “I’m flattered my wife masturbates to the thought of me.  You only needed to ask if you wanted my help.”

Your cheeks were blazing, but the look in Jungkook’s eyes was dampening your embarrassment.  

“I didn’t think… I wasn’t sure.”  You licked your bottom lip and his gaze snapped down to your mouth, “I wasn’t sure you wanted me like that.  Again.”

His eyes lifted to your own once more, and this time it was like they were on fire.

“I haven’t stopped thinking about you since that night Angel.”  His words were rough, coarse, “Believe me.  I want you like that again.  As many times as you want, actually.”

Your heart felt like it might rip itself out of your chest. 

His hand reached up to your face, and he stroked a finger down your cheek. 

You thought he might kiss you - you wanted him to kiss you so badly - but he pulled away after a moment, and his eyes disappeared down to your legs.  He couldn’t see you properly, not with the bubbles in the way, but he seemed to want to devour you.

“Can you touch yourself again for me?”  He asked after a moment, eyes sliding back up to your face, “I’ve never seen anything sexier.” 

You were sure you were about to hyperventilate. 

He had not just said that. 

He didn’t mean it.

He couldn’t, right?

Jungkook had been with some many more women before you - older, more worldly… Well seasoned.

And yet, his eyes were looking at you with absolute conviction.

You nodded after another long pause and he smiled - that smile that you loved - eyes crinkling into two crescent moons. 

He didn’t stand, as you thought he might, instead moving onto his knees and resting his chin on the edge of the bathtub.  

He nudged your hand and you started to move it down the length of your body, watching as Jungkook’s gaze stayed stuck on your fingers. 

“God.”  He whispered, as though to himself, “So fucking hot, Angel.”

Your hands disappeared under the water, and you felt yourself shiver as your fingers touched your most intimate place.  Your eyes closed then, focusing on your pleasure, and after a moment you felt your husband’s lips on your naked shoulder.  

You opened your eyes and watched as Jungkook licked his way up your neck to the shell of your ear - biting playfully on it.  You groaned at his ministrations, and almost moved your hand away from your centre, when his own fingers enveloped yours. 

“Jungkook - your shirt -” 

“Don’t care,” He groaned, moving his fingers against your own - soaking his probably very expensive clothes, “Jesus.  So hot.” 

You arched into his touch and tried to slip your hand away from under his but he wouldn’t let you.

“No, no Angel,” He whispered against your ear, alternating between kisses and licks, “This is a team effort, okay?” You nodded then, desperate to finish - desperate to make him happy.

Desperate that he was touching you again.

His nose nuzzled into the juncture of your shoulder and neck, and that was what did it for you.  That act of intimacy - the way he seemed to be enjoying every inch of your skin - tightened the coil in your core until it snapped, and you fell apart into a million tiny pieces.

Jungkook encouraged you through it, landing kisses wherever he could and petting your core carefully, wanting you to enjoy every second of it. 

After a moment, when you relaxed, he pulled away and you whined a little eyes still closed. 

“C’mon,”  He said softly, and you opened your eyes to meet with his, “This isn’t exactly comfortable, is it?” 

You shook your head and giggled a little at the look on his face.

So open - so inviting. 

His hand was reaching out to yours and you took it, no longer caring that you were naked, and standing up yourself.

His eyes scanned you hotly, and something akin to a blush covered your whole body.  When he looked at you again you shivered at the appreciation in his gaze. 

“Beautiful.”  He murmured as you stepped out of the bathtub, arms tightening around your waist and lifting you up effortlessly.

You laughed again at this, “I’m getting you all wet.” “Don’t care,” He answered honestly, lips meeting your own finally as he kissed you with all the fierce passion of somebody in love.

You tried to tuck your feelings for him away - to enjoy the moment as it came - but you couldn’t help it.  Your heart was swelling to nearly double the size, you loved him so much.

Jungkook carried you over to the bedroom, laying you down on the bed carefully and climbing on top of you.  His arms caged around you, but you felt safer than you ever had.

You knew he’d never hurt you - never force you to do something you didn’t want to.

“Take this off,” You whispered after a moment, tugging on the collar of his shirt, “I want to see.” 

He smirked then, in that way that was so quintessential Jungkook. 

“Alright Angel.  So needy.” 

You didn’t even deny it, nodding furiously as you watched the shirt slide off his shoulders.  You gasped when his chest was revealed, not even attempting to hide your astonishment.

He was so… Beautiful.

He groaned at the look on your face, cupping your cheeks and pressing a hot kiss against your mouth.

“Don’t look at me like that.”  He whispered against your lips, “You’re driving me crazy.”

“I could say the same for you,” You answered back, voice hoarse with desire, “Your pants, Jungkookie.” He pulled away and rose a brow at the nickname.  You bit your bottom lip and smiled.

“Please?” The word slipped out of you - sweet as honey.  He laughed.

“Alright,” He pressing a hand to your forehead and then started working on his belt buckle, “But only because you said please.” 

You watched as your husband stepped out of his trousers - heart hammering against your chest as he stood glorious as ever, in a pair of tight, black boxers.

You knew what tonight might end with.  You knew what you were offering up to him.

But the truth was… He’d had your heart… Your body… Your soul, since a long time ago. 

So you weren’t scared.  Quite the opposite in fact.

You were ready for this.

You were ready for him.

He kissed you again - fervently - and you felt the blood rise to the very tips of your ears.  God.  You loved him so much, it felt like you might burst. 

He tugged his boxers down, and you felt him pressed up against your thigh.  It might have made you anxious, were it anyone else, but with Jungkook it just felt… Right.

He pulled away slightly, eyes meeting your own, “Is this… Okay?  Do you want to slow down?”

You shook your head quickly, hands coming up to cup his face.

“No.  I want this.”  You cleared your throat, “I want you Jungkook.  Make me yours.”

Your husband’s eyes softened then, and you saw something deeper than just affection or lust.  You saw something whole and full.  Something you’d felt for him for so many years.

Your heart soared. 

Could your husband learn to love you, too? “Okay,” He whispered against your lips, “It might hurt a little Angel.  I’m sorry if it does.” You shook your head, “I don’t care Jungkook.  As long as it’s with you.” His face seemed to melt then, like butter on a hot day, and his fingers pushed into you - opening you up for what  you knew was coming.

And then he was inside you.  He slid in gently, slowly, and though it hurt - you knew you could handle it.  He stopped and pulled away slightly, hands moving your hair out of your face - eyes roving your features.

“Are you okay?” He whispered, and his lips were so close to your own it was like he was kissing you.

You nodded, “I’m fine.  I promise.  You can move, please.”

He smiled then - soft and caring - and you knew the love you had for him was shining in your eyes, but you didn’t really care.  Not anymore.

When he started moving inside of you, you pressed your hands against his back, pulling him closer, wanting his skin against your own.  He was so precious to you.  So perfect.

And he was yours, wasn’t he?

He had to be.

His lips covered your own and you felt him tightening, tightening, tightening and you knew what was coming.  He pulled back slightly, eyes screwed shut.

“Is it okay if I -” 

You nodded quickly, frantically, “Anything you want Jungkook.  Anything.” His eyes opened then and they were so beautiful - so open and honest and you felt like you might drown in them.

And the words slipped out of you, before you even really knew what was happening.

“I love you,” You whispered just as Jungkook reached the peak of his pleasure.  

His eyes widened as they met yours, and you smiled.

Even if he didn’t love you back… It didn’t matter.  Because he was yours.  

He had to be.

He collapsed on top of you after he was finished, breathing heavily, and you enjoyed his closeness with open arms - running your fingers up and down his naked back.  After a moment he pulled away - a small smile on his face.

“That was…” 

“Amazing?”  You supplied, grinning.

He pressed a hand to your cheek and kissed the side of your mouth, “Yeah.  Amazing.” Your heart swelled. 

Maybe all was not hopeless.

//

Your husband was gone when you woke the next morning.

His side of the bed was cold, and even though he wasn’t there to greet you, you were still warm from his touch.

Everything had changed between you… Hadn’t it?

It couldn’t stay the same. 

Not after the way he’d kissed you.  Not after the way he’d held you. 

You sighed to yourself feeling light and frothy inside.  He hadn’t said he loved you - but the way he’d looked at you last night…

He could learn to love you.  Your marriage didn’t have to be cold and desolate as he’d promised you.  Things were changing. 

You stood slowly, legs sore and aching - and pulled a nightgown around you.  It had been hours since you’d had a drink of water - and you blushed as you thought of how much exercise you’d actually endured since last night.  

You tried to make yourself look as presentable as possible… But secretly, you sort of wanted all of the help to wonder if Jungkook had finally made you yours.

It was silly, maybe, but the thought of others knowing that your husband wanted you in any capacity, brought a glow to your skin. 

You slipped your feet into some slippers and smiled to yourself, stepping out of your bedroom and almost skipping down the hallway.

It felt almost like you were floating on a cloud.

You started making your way towards the kitchen - intending to make yourself a quick breakfast - when you noticed that the door to Jungkook’s study was slightly ajar.  You crept towards it, intending to surprise him with your presence, when you noticed he wasn’t alone.

Your heart swam all the way into your throat as you noticed that Jungkook was standing in front of a woman.  

You couldn’t see her face - only the back of her head - but you knew it was a woman when she spoke. 

“You promised you’d wait for me.” There was a tremble in her voice.

“I couldn’t… There wasn’t anything I could do.  It was decided for me.” 

Jungkook’s eyes were unreadable.  You felt your chest tighten.

“This was why you kept me a secret,” You could hear the tears in her voice, “This was why you kept up the pretense of fucking around.  So you could marry her?” 

Your husband’s eyes widened and he stepped towards her, grabbing her by the arms. 

“Keep your voice down Violetta,” His voice was soothing, “She’ll hear you.”

Her shoulders were shaking and you realised she was crying, “I don’t care Jungkook.  I thought you loved me.  Was I wrong?”

There was a long beat of silence.  Your husband’s eyes softened then, and the mask dissolved. 

“Violetta…” 

And then she reached up and pulled your husband towards her.  And she kissed him.

Your heart cracked right down the middle and you choked back a sob.   Jungkook pulled away from her almost immediately - his eyes darting to meet with yours.

He’d heard you.

“Y/N!” 

He moved away from Violetta and as you turned, your eyes connected with hers. 

She was beautiful.

Your world crumbled like dust around you, and you spun around quickly, running towards your bedroom and slamming the door shut.  You used the locks your husband had assured you were only a precaution, and fell to the ground - leaning against the surface of the portal. 

After a moment, Jungkook’s voice came from the other side.

“Y/N.” You didn’t say anything.  

“Y/N.  Please.  Open the door.”

The sobs started rolling through your body. 

“Y/N… Please.  Y/N please, let me talk to you.”

It was too late.

Too late.

You felt like you were collapsing in on yourself - like a dying star.

Violetta.

Violetta.

That was who he loved.  Not you.

Never you.

//

[fakescenarios-tohelpyousleep]

crazy golf| evan ‘buck’ buckley

summary| when you blackout on a mini golf course the 118 gets called to the scene

“Your dad?! You have a dad?” You couldn’t help but chuckle at the shock that spills from the speakers of your phone. While you had the day off from the firehouse, your boyfriend Buck, wasn’t so lucky. In fact today was when he worked one of the dreaded 24 hour shifts. “Everyone has a dad, Buck.” You laugh at him sarcastically and you can hear your boyfriend scoff over the other end of the call. “I know that, it’s just that... I don’t know, you never really talked about your dad before.” Now you scoff. “Yeah there isn’t much to tell, he left when I was still really young and our communication was little to none throughout the years.” “So explain to me why you’re meeting with him exactly.” You could hear the voice of Chimney make it’s way into the conversation and you could bet that he and Hen had now gathered around Buck to hear the conversation.. if you’re lucky Bobby and Eddie probably joined as well. 

“I don’t know, he and his new family is in town for vacation so I figured why not meet up with them.” As you make your way through your and buck’s shared house to the living room, where you sit yourself on the couch. “If you guys don’t talk, how does he even know you live in LA?” Hen now spoke, proving you correct. “My mom’s Facebook most likely-” Eddie scoffs at the comment. “Oh cause you and your mom talk so much more Ms. I didn’t tell my mom I moved across country.” “You didn’t tell your own mother you moved across the country?” Now Bobby’s voice comes over the speaker... the gangs all here. “Okay shut up both of you!” “Is it really a good idea, Y/N? I mean, you haven’t seen him in years. Are you sure you want to go alone?” Buck’s voice is finally heard again. You could picture the exact face he was making in that moment. The concerned Buck face. “It’s not like he’s a psychopath, Buckley.” “Y/N’s a big girl, she can handle it.” Bobby joked in the background of the call. “Is it just you and him or are there more people that will be there?” “Most likely him and I, his wife, and her 2 kids.” At that the loud ring of the fire bell ignites. “Y/N, we have to go. I’ll talk to you later, be careful, I love you.” “I love you too and shut up about me being careful, take your own advice.” 

_

“Pants, are you crazy girl? It’s 90 degrees out!” The hounded of your father begins the second you approach the group of them at the entree of the mini golf course. “90 degrees is nothing if she goes into burning buildings with practically a winter jacket on.” The countering voice of the eldest step brother replied to his comment before I could. The eldest, named James, was my favorite of the three kids. Not that I saw much of them, but from what I did, he was always the nicest. Kayla, younger than James but older than myself, was always more bitchy, however we knew each other back when she was a teenager. “You’d be surprised for being a firefighter, putting out fires is only like 2 percent of what I do on a day to day.” 

“Hey-” “Stop worrying she’ll be okay.” Buck practically jumped from his skin when Eddie snatched his phone from his hands. Buck frantically looks around to the other as they unpack the truck from the recent call. Chimney and Hen laugh at him for the way he’s acting. “I’m just checking to be safe!” Buck defends snatching his phone back, checking the screen for any miss calls before sighing and sliding his phone back into his pocket. “You’re worrying about an ex-detective turned firefighter meeting up with her dad... how does Y/N deal with you.” Chimney questioned earning another eye roll from Buck. “You just never know. I know what it’s like to not have a good relationship with your parents. I’d be dying right now if I were in her position.” Buck explains and Hen shows a bit of empathy for the boy. “Y/N isn’t you Buck, she’s not any of us, she’s her. If you hadn’t noticed she doesn’t really hold grudges, she gonna go see him, pretend like nothing happened and then when he disappears again she’ll forget that he even came back into her life.”

“Vending Machine, you want anything?” James questioned as you reach the midway point of the course. “My god, yes please.” You huff, wiping the sweat from your forehead. You join James and Kayla near the machine, taking a seat besides Kayla on her bench. “Water please.” “There is only soda.” James calls back and both girls groan, rolling there eyes. “It’s too hot of soda.” Kayla groaned, you nod in agreement. “Sprite, I guess.” “Coke for me.” You lean your head back to hang in exhaustion. “So.. how has LA been? Any boyfriend?” Kayla starts up conversation, different from how she use to be. “Better than back home and yeah, yeah a boyfriend.” “Boyfriend? What’s his name?” James over hears, turning and handing us our respected can of soda. You open it and down half of it, placing the cold can on your neck before replying, “Buck, well Evan Buckley but we call him Buck. We work together.” They nod, as dad and his wife join us ready to continue the game. You go to stand and suddenly stumble back at the blackness that suddenly clouds your vision. “Whoa, Y/N you okay?” Your dad reaches out to stop you from falling. “Yeah, yeah, just stood up to fast. I’m fine.” You remember, you haven’t eaten since you’ve left work the night prior and water.. well water isn’t exactly your drink of choice. “Are you sure?” James double checks. “Yes I’m fine.”You shrug your dad’s arm from your shoulder and start the small uphill hike to the next hole, however before you can get your bearings you’re suddenly on the ground slumped again the rocks of the golf course, the world around you coming in and out. 

The blaring of the alarm puts everyone in the 118 into motion as the team climbs into the firetruck and ambulance and as the truck pulls into drive, Buck’s phone goes off in his pocket. His sister Maddie. “Maddie what is it? We’re on a call-” “Yeah yeah I know, it’s about the call... it’s Y/N.” 

“LAFD please clear the way.” Bobby, followed by the team arrives onto the scene where James is waiting at the beginning of the course to lead them to the still incoherent Y/N. “What exactly happened?” Bobby questioned, Buck and Eddie standing to each side of him as Chimney and Hen make there way onto the course to evaluate her. “We stopped to get a drink from the vending machine and then when we went to continue she went to walk up the hill and just boom, dropped.” “Her vitals are all good, she’s coming in and out, she’s extremely dehydrated!” Hen calls from their position, Hen and Chimney kneels on the ground besides you. “Y/N!” Buck yells going to take off to join them, however, stopped by both Eddie and Bobby. “Buck stop! Go get water from the stand, Eddie from the ambulance get a gerny, I’ll go get Y/N, Eddie set up under the sprinklers here.” “Bobby, let me go get her-” “Buck follow the order.” With a red face, Buck stomps away from his captain in the direction of the convent stand to get water. Bobby treks his way through the course joining half of his team as well as her father and step mother. Hen has already inserted an IV with water into Y/N arm and slowly was she regaining her consensuses. “Y/N, it’s Bobby we’re going to move you, okay?” “Bobby?” You mumbled as he counted to three, lifting you effortlessly, Hen holding the IV bag as Chimney follows with the medical bag in hand. Bobby knows you’re with them as he can feel you holding onto his neck as he carries you but as your head drops forward, he begins talking. “Y/N talk to me.” “I’m okay.” Your voice trails off, head dropping completely backwards as your arms go slightly limb as they arrive to the beginning of the course again, where Eddie had a gerny, Buck had water and sprinklers were raining water lightly down. “Y/N come on, wake up!” Bobby’s voice gets louder as he sits you down completely out cold. “Y/N!” Buck’s voice calls louder as he shoved the bottle of water into Eddie’s hands. “Y/N!” Buck shakes you, both hands on either side of your face and with the shakening and the sprinkling of water as well as the IV coursing water into your body, you’re eyes flutter open. “Buck, I’m fine.” Buck smiles, sighing in relief, his head dropping forward grateful for you’re eyes opening. “Y/N when was the last time you ate?” Hen’s judgmental voice speaks up as her arms cross. “Um-” You shut your eyes tightly, the exhaustion not leaving your body. “Cap, what did you make for dinner late night?” Scoffs from your team fill the air. “You are an idiot.” Buck mumbles besides you and you lightly push him off. “Eddie, go get get a milkshake or something please.” Bobby orders and Eddie nods rushing off to get it. “Chocolate! She doesn’t like Vanilla!” Buck calls after his teammate, his eyes falling to her family, standing just off to the side watching in silence as she mingles with the team that just saved her. “So... I’m assuming that’s Buck?”

[kellyvela]

Sansa, Catelyn, and Cersei are described as beautiful women in the books by several POVs. Their cheekbones, eyes, and hair are described in detail.

I was wondering, what about Daenerys? Is there any actual physical description of her in the books?

The first character that comes to my mind talking about Daenerys's look is Viserys :

“You still slouch. Straighten yourself.” He pushed back her shoulders with his hands. “Let them see that you have a woman’s shape now.”

(...) “She’s too skinny,” Viserys said.”

(...) “Smile,” Viserys whispered nervously, his hand falling to the hilt of his sword. “And stand up straight. Let him see that you have breasts. Gods know, you have little enough as is.”

—AGOT - Daenerys I

The second character is Illyrio:

“Look at her. That silver-gold hair, those purple eyes…she is the blood of old Valyria, no doubt, no doubt…and highborn, daughter of the old king, sister to the new, she cannot fail to entrance our Drogo.”

—AGOT - Daenerys I

So far: silver gold hair, purple eyes, slouch, too skinny, small breasts.

Now, according to the ASOIAF WIKI, "Daenerys has been described as fair and beautiful." Let's see:

Xaro described Dany as 'the fairest woman in the world':

"Let us speak instead of love, of dreams and desire and Daenerys, the fairest woman in this world. I am drunk with the sight of you."

She was no stranger to the overblown courtesies of Qarth. "If you are drunk, blame the wine."

"No wine is half so intoxicating as your beauty. My manse has seemed as empty as a tomb since Daenerys departed, and all the pleasures of the Queen of Cities have been as ashes in my mouth. Why did you abandon me?"

—ADWD - Daenerys III

Despite not knowing her in person yet, Tyrion called her our fair Daenerys:

"Aye." Tyrion moved his elephants. "And when the pisswater prince was safely dead, the eunuch smuggled you across the narrow sea to his fat friend the cheesemonger, who hid you on a poleboat and found an exile lord willing to call himself your father. It does make for a splendid story, and the singers will make much of your escape once you take the Iron Throne … assuming that our fair Daenerys takes you for her consort."

—ADWD - Tyrion VI

Galazza Galare called her fair Daenerys:

"I know these were not the words you wished to hear," said Galazza Galare. "Yet for myself, I understand. These dragons are fell beasts. Yunkai fears them … and with good cause, you cannot deny. Our histories speak of the dragonlords of dread Valyria and the devastation that they wrought upon the peoples of Old Ghis. Even your own young queen, fair Daenerys who called herself the Mother of Dragons … we saw her burning, that day in the pit … even she was not safe from the dragon's wroth."

—ADWD - The Queen's Hand

Jorah the creep called Daenerys 'the most beautiful that I have ever seen' that time he forced a kiss on her:

His eyes were on her breasts.

Dany covered them with her hands, before her nipples could betray her. "I . . . that was not fitting. I am your queen."

"My queen," he said, "and the bravest, sweetest, and most beautiful woman I have ever seen. Daenerys—"

—ASOS - Daenerys I

Even before knowing her in person, Quentyn called Daenerys 'the most beautiful in the world':

Tell me, my Westerosi friend, what is there in Meereen that you should want to go there?"

The most beautiful woman in the world, thought Quentyn. My bride-to-be, if the gods are good. Sometimes at night he lay awake imagining her face and form, and wondering why such a woman would ever want to marry him, of all the princes in the world. I am Dorne, he told himself. She will want Dorne.

(...) And now the most beautiful woman in the world was waiting in Meereen, and he meant to do his duty and claim her for his bride. She will not refuse me. She will honor the agreement. Daenerys Targaryen would need Dorne to win the Seven Kingdoms, and that meant that she would need him. It does not mean that she will love me, though. She may not even like me.

—ADWD - The Merchant's Man

"All dead," Quentyn agreed. "For what? To bring me here, so I might wed the dragon queen. A grand adventure, Cletus called it. Demon roads and stormy seas, and at the end of it the most beautiful woman in the world. A tale to tell our grandchildren. But Cletus will never father a child, unless he left a bastard in the belly of that tavern wench he liked. Will will never have his wedding. Their deaths should have some meaning."

—ADWD - The Spurned Suitor

Despite not knowing her in person yet, Euron and Victarion called Daenerys 'the fairest woman in the world' and 'the most beautiful woman in the world':

"The last of her line. They say she is the fairest woman in the world. Her hair is silver-gold, and her eyes are amethysts . . . but you need not take my word for it, brother. Go to Slaver's Bay, behold her beauty, and bring her back to me."

(...) "I could sail the Iron Fleet to hell if need be." When Victarion opened his hand, his palm was red with blood. "I'll go to Slaver's Bay, aye. I'll find this dragon woman, and I'll bring her back." But not for you. You stole my wife and despoiled her, so I'll have yours. The fairest woman in the world, for me.

—AFFC - The Reaver

"Aye, Captain," said Wulfe One-Ear. He was not half the man that Nute the Barber was, but the Crow's Eye had stolen Nute. By raising him to Lord of Oakenshield, his brother made Victarion's best man his own. "Is it still to be Meereen?"

"Where else? The dragon queen awaits me in Meereen." The fairest woman in the world if my brother could be believed. Her hair is silver-gold, her eyes are amethysts.

Was it too much to hope that for once Euron had told it true? Perhaps. Like as not, the girl would prove to be some pock-faced slattern with teats slapping against her knees, her "dragons" no more than tattooed lizards from the swamps of Sothoryos. If she is all that Euron claims, though … They had heard talk of the beauty of Daenerys Targaryen from the lips of pirates in the Stepstones and fat merchants in Old Volantis. It might be true. And Euron had not made Victarion a gift of her; the Crow's Eye meant to take her for himself. He sends me like a serving man to fetch her. How he will howl when I claim her for myself. Let the men mutter. They had sailed too far and lost too much for Victarion to turn west without his prize.

—ADWD - The Iron Suitor

The iron captain had no time to wait for laggards. Not with his bride encircled by her enemies. The most beautiful woman in the world has urgent need of my axe.

—ADWD - Victarion I

Daario also called Daenerys beautiful:

Daario Naharis entered swaggering. He swaggers even when he is standing still. (...) "Bright queen," he said, "you have grown more beautiful in my absence. How is this thing possible?"

The queen was accustomed to such praise, yet somehow the compliment meant more coming from Daario than from the likes of Reznak, Xaro, or Hizdahr. "Captain. They tell us you did us good service in Lhazar." I have missed you so much.

—ADWD - Daenerys IV

As you can see from the last quote, in addition to those already mentioned, there are other characters around Daenerys that constantly praise her beauty. And I'm sure I failed to quote others characters talking about Daenerys's beauty as well.

There is also the fact that Daenerys's eyes are compared to Ashara Dayne, a known beauty:

And they told how afterward Ned had carried Ser Arthur's sword back to the beautiful young sister who awaited him in a castle called Starfall on the shores of the Summer Sea. The Lady Ashara Dayne, tall and fair, with haunting violet eyes.

—AGOT - Catelyn II

Even after all these years, Ser Barristan could still recall Ashara's smile, the sound of her laughter. He had only to close his eyes to see her, with her long dark hair tumbling about her shoulders and those haunting purple eyes. Daenerys has the same eyes. Sometimes when the queen looked at him, he felt as if he were looking at Ashara's daughter …

—ADWD - The Kingbreaker

As you can see, the praise to her beauty comes from mostly dubious people, more interested in her dragons than in herself, people that wanted to use her for their own agenda than truly and unconditionally help her.

I personally think that the Targs are exactly in the line/border of beauty and ugliness. But also take note that beauty is in the eye of the beholder. For Westeros, Targaryen/Valyrian look is exotic, the gold-silver hair (that can look almost white/grey) and the purple/lilac/indigo eyes. And exotic can be attractive for some people. But most than exotic, when Targaryen conquered Westeros, they established the superiority of their blood, so of course their look, incest tradition and dragon riding was stated as superior and exceptional, they even wrote a doctrine about that and called it "exceptionalism." And it's too easy to associated superiority with beauty......

Anyway, about the Targaryen look, I think we must trust in Princess Arianne Martell:

Young John Mudd has been sending out birds as well, it seemed. Near dusk on the fourth day, not long after Chain and his wagons had taken their leave of them, Arianne’s company was met by a column of sellswords down from Griffin’s Roost, led by the most exotic creature that the princess had ever laid her eyes on, with painted fingernails and gemstones sparkling in his ears.

Lysono Maar spoke the Common Tongue very well. “I have the honor to be the eyes and ears of the Golden Company, princess.”

“You look… ” She hesitated.

“…like a woman?” He laughed. “That I am not.”

“ …like a Targaryen,” Arianne insisted. His eyes were a pale lilac, his hair a waterfall of white and gold. All the same, something about him made her skin crawl. Was this what Viserys looked like? she found herself wondering. If so perhaps it is a good thing he is dead.

“I am flattered. The women of House Targaryen are said to be without peer in all the world.”

“And the men of House Targaryen?”

“Oh, even prettier. Though if truth be told, I have only seen the one.” Maar took her hand in his own, and kissed her lightly on the wrist. “Mistwood sent word of your coming, sweet princess. We will be honored to escort you to the Roost, but I fear you have missed Lord Connington and our young prince.”

—TWOW - Arianne II

Thanks for your message.

[wyn-n-tonic]

Golden, Like Daylight -- Part IV

Word Count: 1,925 Warnings: PTSD. Drug use. Ben Affleck. Panic attacks. Bullet wounds. Smut (not explicit but it's there). A/N: Your kind words mean literally everything to me and I have been sobbing between the warmth shown to me over this series and also how much I love Francisco Morales and want the absolute best for him.

MASTERLIST | PART: I | II | III | IV | V | VI | VII | VIII | IX

Gif by: @uuuhshiny

Luna hasn’t stopped wailing since Sunday, the one and only day Frankie said he wouldn’t be able to call.

It’s Thursday and both their lungs are close to giving out.

One Morales woman hyperventilating herself into fitful sleeps, the other only sobbing through held breaths in stolen lonely moments of peace and quiet.

Kristyn had taken up residence in the spare room, making sure Leah slept and ate. She was the one who cashed in Leah’s sick days with the school, forging a bullshit sick note when she went into work.

Leah is currently distraught because her husband might be dead in South America, we don’t know.

That’s what the first one said, dashed out on the keyboard in a petty moment of frustration. She might be the only one of Leah’s sisters who didn't want to lob his fucking head off every time she shed a tear but it didn’t mean she never wanted to do it.

Patient is suffering from a prolonged migraine and intensive nausea. Follow up appointment scheduled for next Thursday at 9am.

That should fucking do it but she’ll have to start checking off the vacation days soon. Dip into family leave for Luna.

Alexa held her on that first Monday, talking her through the panic in a puddle of spilled coffee. The paper cup splashing across their knees in the hallway as concern emanated from the AP Lit room at their backs.

Somewhere at the base of the Andes, her husband was being pried out of a crashed helicopter by the only other men she’d ever truly loved. William was shot, Benny was reckless. She felt it all in her body as she was driven home, helped into the shower, held in her bed but not by the arms she craved.

“He's coming home,” Deana brought dinner that night, her big sister cutting into her steak like she was a child at risk of choking again, “he will do anything he can to make sure of that.”

“What if he doesn’t, D?” Leah’s taken on the stare, everything and nothing all at once, “what if he doesn’t come home this time?”

“I promise you, Lee, okay?” She reaches out to push aside hair damp with tears, “I've never seen a man so in love.”

“Yeah…” she’s quiet, “he promised me too.”

And she told him to stop making promises because he doesn’t keep them.

I think you put a baby in me, Francisco Morales.

The tears well over her eyes, spilling onto already salt stained cheeks.

He made love to her like it was the last time he would ever see her, the last chance he would ever get. He poured his entire being into her, drunk off the feel of their bodies together. She could feel him in the hollow of her ribs, an aching that called out for the comfort of his beating heart against hers again.

Would that be so bad?

She sobbed out, startling Luna’s own ragged cries again, afraid that she would never know warmth against her cold hands again.

—————

“Hey,” they're huddled against the onslaught beneath a barely-there cliff, labored breathing in tandem, “you still with me?”

Frankie’s panic attack came on slowly, a rolling storm in the distance the moment the helo crashed in the valley.

Bad landing.

His fight or flight response has his lungs in a vice grip but he still manages a laugh, “I think I should be the one asking you that.”

“You know it’s gonna take a lot more than a stray bullet to fuck me off,” he’s smiling but Frankie knows how much blood he’s lost, how long it takes for a wound like that to clot without medical intervention.

It’s true, it’ll take a lot more than a stray bullet to take William Miller but that was before, when they had back up. Out here, though? Surrounded by his brothers in arms? Having done what he just did?

Francisco Morales has never felt more alone.

“Fish,” William hits his knee against his, “where are you?”

His eyes refocus on the tepid water pounding all around him, the world coming back as he takes a deep breath, “are you afraid, Will?”

“You gotta be more specific, Frank, I’m terrified of everything.”

He’s quiet when he speaks, “me too,” barely above the downpour.

He sees Will nod in his peripheral, “I know.”

“Will, I’m afraid I’ll never see them again,” and when he chokes, he realizes he’s been crying.

“No, you can’t think like that.”

“I know, but I can’t stop it either, like…” trailing off, he lifts his face to the pressure of the water; it’s the sweetest thing he’s felt in days, “what if this is the last shower I ever take?”

“Fish…” Will reaches for him but he’s cut short.

“No, listen to me. If anything happens to me out he—“

“Nothing is going to fucking hap—"

“Shut up and let me finish,” his rage and sadness is burning hot through him, it takes everything within his being not to choke on air as he speaks again. “If anything happens to me out here, Will, take care of my girls. Please.”

The blond nods his head, heavy with exhaustion and pain, “until the very end of my life, Frankie.”

The relief that spreads through his body is better than any drug he ever tried, he feels himself slipping into an upright sleep, his heart at peace for the first time since he left his bed.

“But,” Will’s voice catches him on the edge of consciousness, “I would also face down the end of my life to make sure you see them again, do you understand me? If the only thing standing between you and a bullet is me, don’t fight. Leave me there and run like hell. You’re going back to your family.”

“But if I don’t make it…”

“Fish,” Will's laugh is drenched in the space between them, “are you saying it’s your last will and testament for me to marry your wife?”

“Fuck off,” his words are clipped, strained, “and don’t call me Fish.”

—————

They still, eyes up to the screen of the baby monitor as they hold their breath for another sound from Luna’s room. The baby settles back into silence, her small chest rising and falling on the grainy feed.

He remembers Leah opening the military grade surveillance equipment at the baby shower, the shake of her laughter as she held onto Benny’s shoulder to anchor herself to the chair.

“Should we check on her?” It’s small, a rushed question of a concerned mother.

“I said a baby monitor, Benjamin, not a prison security camera.”

“Absolutely not,” Ben grabs her hand, “This is better than any of that shit you’ll find at Target. Video means there’s no wondering either, you can just look up and assess the situation, more rest. That’s important, you’ll need to savor the little that you get.”

He pushes a lock of hair from her face, damp with the tears of the day and the sweat of the night, “no, baby, we don’t want to disturb her.”

“Yeah,” Will chimes in, his beer bottle held loosely in his hands, “Frankie should’ve been training you on sleep deprivation this whole time, you’re spec ops yourself now.”

“But what if she wakes up?”

“Well…” the corner of his mouth lifts to close the fan at the corner of his eyes, “it’s a good thing she can’t see us through that thing, right?”

“Francisc—“ the irritation of his name is finished in a heady moan lured from her body by another slow drag of his hips.

The crook of his nose slots against hers as he finds her lips again, the warmth of the room around them is nothing compared to their mouths on each other. Bathing in shared heat, her fingers entwine into the curls at the crown of his head, the other hand palm up to his chest. And as the beating of his heart races towards her burning touch, he submerges himself once again.

His firm grip holds the hinge in her leg, fingers digging into the sensitive skin that fills her lungs with fits of laughter and light. He braces himself against the bed, the aching in his forearm dulled by the soft, breathless whimpers intoxicating his entire being.

His voice is washed out when he finds it, “mi sol,” lips dragging across her own, “mis estrellas.”

Her eyes find his, heavy with admiration and trust. “Francisco,” she is drunk and drowning in the love of this man, “finish me.”

He shifts to cradle her jaw and as he trails his other hand up her thigh, he sinks within her once more. Finding his release against her own, he is convinced they’ll never be able to fully untangle again.

He presses a kiss to her nose.

My sun.

Her forehead.

My stars.

Her lips.

My whole sky.

—————

I think you put a baby in me, Francisco Morales.

He snaps back to reality, Santi and Tom’s voices echoing all around them.

His head is hot, he’s pushing past Will with concern set so deeply in his eyes he fears he’ll break right there.

Would that be so bad?

“Fucking bullshit!” Tom’s face is red, Santi having finally said what all of them are thinking.

He feels the weight of Leah in every fiber of his being, slotted perfectly against his body.

“We're all on the hook for this, are we not?”

I should’ve said no.

“God damn this fucking horse! Stop it!”

All those years blinded by loyalty to authority, Frankie never talked back to his leader but the man in front of him isn’t a leader. He’s a whiny child who’s lost his toys and Frankie hates him.

Biting back what he wants to say, he holds his hand up in a show of camaraderie, “Relax.” His finger quirks up as if he’s scolding a tantrum, “Relax. We’re not picking at the fucking scab right now, okay?”

Tom stares him down, like he’s weighing an argument against him too but Frankie’s done. He meets the taller man’s gaze, this man he would’ve died for.

“One foot in front of the other. Come on.”

This man he almost has died for.

“Let's go. Jesus fucking Christ.”

His true allegiances don’t lie to this man anymore or the gun at his hip. Not the money or the mules. He left that splintered fantasy about twenty feet back.

He’d throw this man over if it meant going home right now.

The money too.

None of it is worth a goddamn thing to him if it means he’ll never see the way that the light bounces off the gold in Leah Morales’ eyes ever again.

The same honeyed flakes in the brown of his daughter’s bright gaze.

I think you put a baby in me, Francisco Morales.

He made love to her like it was the last time he would ever see her, the last chance he would ever get. He wanted to pour his entire being into that woman, ensure that he would live on if lost to the Colombian jungle off a narco's bullet.

Would that be so bad?

He was scared but, truly, would it be so bad?

But it would be because he could truly leave her with nothing. No money, no husband, no father to her babies.

He lost count of the days he hadn’t called.

He makes his way up the mountain, following Tom’s bitching, wishing it was Leah leading him home instead.

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[butterflies-dragons]

Do you have any doubts that Sansa is the girl in grey? Is there strong grey imagery around Sansa?

I believe Sansa is the grey girl yes, but only GRRM has that answer.

About grey imagery around Sansa, I wrote about it here and there.

Grey is the main Stark color. Their sigil is a grey direwolf in a white field. Stark men wear grey cloaks, Winterfell is made of grey granite, Grey eyes is a Stark feature, etc.

There are some instances where Sansa actually wears or it is said that she will wear a grey cloak:

1.- Her first encounter with Dontos (false Florian) in the Red Keep's Godswood: "Sansa threw a plain grey cloak over her shoulders and picked up the knife she used to cut her meat. If it is some trap, better that I die than let them hurt me more, she told herself. She hid the blade under her cloak."

It is very curious that Dontos was also wearing grey during that first secret encounter: "He wore a dark grey robe with the cowl pulled forward, but when a thin sliver of moonlight touched his cheek, she knew him at once by the blotchy skin and web of broken veins beneath. "Ser Dontos," she breathed, heartbroken. "Was it you?"

2.- Cersei gave her a white and silver maiden cloak for her wedding to Tyrion. Stark colors are grey and white tho... I think in this case the silver is there instead of the grey of House Stark. I'm not sure if this is a mistake or not. "Cersei Lannister ignored the question. "The cloak," she commanded, and the women brought it out: a long cloak of white velvet heavy with pearls. A fierce direwolf was embroidered upon it in silver thread. Sansa looked at it with sudden dread. "Your father's colors," said Cersei, as they fastened it about her neck with a slender silver chain."

Curiously enough, Tyrion wore Targaryen colors to marry Sansa lol

3.- Littlefinger planned for Alayne to reveal her true identity as Sansa Stark wearing a maiden cloak with the Stark colors grey and white: "Jon Arryn's bannermen will never love me, nor our silly, shaking Robert, but they will love their Young Falcon . . . and when they come together for his wedding, and you come out with your long auburn hair, clad in a maiden's cloak of white and grey with a direwolf emblazoned on the back . . . why, every knight in the Vale will pledge his sword to win you back your birthright.

From my answer about certain ship foreshadowing:

What do you know of my heart, priestess? What do you know of my sister?

In the shadow of the Wall, the direwolf brushed up against his fingers. For half a heartbeat the night came alive with a thousand smells, and Jon Snow heard the crackle of the crust breaking on a patch of old snow. Someone was behind him, he realized suddenly. Someone who smelled warm as a summer day. When he turned he saw Ygritte. She stood beneath the scorched stones of the Lord Commander’s Tower, cloaked in darkness and in memory. The light of the moon was in her hair, her red hair kissed by fire. When he saw that, Jon’s heart leapt into his mouth. “Ygritte,” he said. “Lord Snow.” The voice was Melisandre’s. Surprise made him recoil from her. “Lady Melisandre.” He took a step backwards. “I mistook you for someone else.” At night all robes are grey. Yet suddenly hers were red. He did not understand how he could have taken her for Ygritte. She was taller, thinner, older, though the moonlight washed years from her face. Mist rose from her nostrils, and from pale hands naked to the night. “You will freeze your fingers off,” Jon warned. “If that is the will of R’hllor. Night’s powers cannot touch one whose heart is bathed in god’s holy fire.” “You heart does not concern me. Just your hands.” “The heart is all that matters. Do not despair, Lord Snow. Despair is a weapon of the enemy, whose name may not be spoken. Your sister is not lost to you.” “I have no sister.” The words were knives. What do you know of my heart, priestess? What do you know of my sister? Melisandre seemed amused. “What is her name, this little sister that you do not have?” “Arya.” His voice was hoarse. “My half-sister, truly …” “… for you are bastard born. I had not forgotten. I have seen your sister in my fires, fleeing from this marriage they have made for her. Coming here, to you. A girl in grey on a dying horse, I have seen it plain as day. It has not happened yet, but it will.”

—A Dance with Dragons - Jon VI

Earlier in this chapter, Jon was thinking about Arya and her situation (trapped with the Boltons), and he was frustrated for not being able to help her. Then he remembered Ygritte, he confused Melisandre for Ygritte.

So, reading all the context:

What do you know of my heart, priestess? = This is about Ygritte. He is still hurt and mourning for her.

What do you know of my sister? = This is about Arya and her situation.

This is an excellent example of how GRRM plays with our minds with his tricky words:

“At night all robes are grey. Yet suddenly hers were red”.  He is introducing us to the Grey Girl and her true identity.

Jon thinks he is seeing Ygritte but he was actually seeing Melissandre.

Melisandre and Jon also believe this grey girl of the visions is Arya Stark, but the person trapped with the Boltons is Jeyne Poole. And later, Alys Karstark was not even wearing a “grey” cloak.

For me the grey girl is neither of them. The answer is hidden in this line: “At night all robes are grey. Yet suddenly hers were red”.

***

"At night all robes are grey" means all the confusion about the grey girl's true identity: Arya or Jeyne or Alys Karstark.

"Yet suddenly hers were red" means that the girl with the grey cloak will be a redhead, like Ygritte and Melisandre the two women Jon was confusing.

So, Sansa as the grey girl makes a lot of sense, she is a redhead and she is a Stark, and grey is the main Stark color.

And this is not the first time that Jon confused Ygritte with another female. Jon dreamed of a ghastly grey direwolf wandering around the Crypts of Winterfell, that seems to be Lady’s Shade:

The crypts were growing darker. A light has gone out somewhere. “Ygritte?” he whispered. “Forgive me. Please.” But it was only a direwolf, grey and ghastly, spotted with blood, his her golden eyes shining sadly through the dark . .

—A Storm of Swords - Jon VIII

Despite Jon assuming the direwolf was a "he," I strongly suspect it was Lady's Shade. Lady is buried at Winterfell, not Grey Wind. Lady was beheaded with Ice, so her fur would be spotted with blood. And Lady was said to have sad eyes.

So, Jon is always confusing Ygritte with another redheads...

From my Dunk & Jon meta:

Maybe I’m seeing too much here, but the reference to Alysanne Osgrey [Os-Grey] makes me think of Sansa Stark, because:

Sansa shared a lot of parallels with Good Queen Alysanne.

The surname Osgrey has the word grey in it.

Alysanne Osgrey became a Silent Sister.

Silent Sisters always wear grey.

Silent Sisters are known as the Stranger’s wives.

According to Melissandre, the Grey Girl of her visions is Jon Snow’s Sister.

The Grey Girl will probably be Sansa Stark.

Grey is also the color of House Stark, so Sansa is, in a way, a Grey Girl.

Jon is a man that will defeat death and come back to life, like the Stranger that walks between the two worlds.

The Stranger’s face is half animal, like Jon who is a warg, half man and half beast.

From my Jon/Sansa/Winterfell meta:

The stone is strong = The walls of Winterfell = Alayne Stone = Sansa Stark.

Sansa Stark has a lot of stone imagery around her.

Winterfell’s walls are made of grey granite. Grey is also a color of House Stark and I believe that Sansa will be the girl in grey on a dying horse from Melisandre’s vision.

As the Heir to Winterfell, Sansa was practically transformed into a stone castle, Winterfell, and the north itself, since the one that controlled her would obtain all her lands and power. Or, to use the euphemism from the Books, Sansa Stark was the “key to the north.”

Sansa reflects about this objectification in the Books and gives us one of the saddest lines in ASOIAF, especially coming from a girl who yearns to be loved and always dreamed of getting married: “No one will ever marry me for love,” (because everyone only wants her for her claim to Winterfell and the north).

Tyrion associates Sansa’s rejection of his advances as icy courtesy and compared that rejection with a castle wall that he never got to break:

“You hide behind courtesy as if it were a castle wall.” “Courtesy is a lady’s armor,” Sansa said. Her septa had always told her that.

—A Storm of Swords - Sansa III

Sansa’s misery was deepening every day. Tyrion would gladly have broken through her courtesy to give her what solace he might, but it was no good.

—A Storm of Swords - Tyrion IV

He wanted to reach her, to break through the armor of her courtesy.

—A Storm of Swords - Tyrion VIII

The castle wall that armored Sansa and Tyrion never got to break is a clear reference to Winterfell:

He remembered Winterfell as he had last seen it. Not as grotesquely huge as Harrenhal, nor as solid and impregnable to look at as Storm’s End, yet there had been a great strength in those stones, a sense that within those walls a man might feel safe.

—A Clash of Kings - Tyrion XI

And certainly, Sansa feels stronger and protected within the walls of Winterfell:

Sansa stuck her fingers through the top, grabbed a handful of snow, and flung it full in his face. Petyr yelped, as the snow slid down under his collar. “That was unchivalrously done, my lady.” “As was bringing me here, when you swore to take me home.” She wondered where this courage had come from, to speak to him so frankly. From Winterfell, she thought. I am stronger within the walls of Winterfell.

—A Storm of Swords - Sansa VII

Sansa feeling stronger within the walls of Winterfell, sounds pretty similar to “the stone is strong” line from Bran quote cited above.

Later, while descending from the Eyrie to the Gates of the Moon, Mya Stone tells Sansa that “a stone is a mountain’s daughter.”

Men come and go. They lie, or die, or leave you. A mountain is not a man, though, and a stone is a mountain’s daughter. I trust my father, and I trust my mules. I won’t fall.” She put her hand on a jagged spur of rock, and got to her feet. “Best finish. We have a long way yet to go, and I can smell a storm.”

—A Feast for Crows - Alayne II

One of Winterfell’s possible meanings is “wintry mountain(s).” And Sansa Stark is “The northern girl. Winterfell’s daughter”.

As the daughter of Petyr Baelish, Alayne Stone also becomes the Heir to Harrenhal, another great castle made of strong stone. Only dragon fire was able to melt Harrenhal’s stone walls:

Stone does not burn, Harren had boasted, but his castle was not made of stone alone. […] And even stone will crack and melt if a fire is hot enough. The riverlords outside the castle walls said later that the towers of Harrenhal glowed red against the night, like five great candles… and like candles, they began to twist and melt, as runnels of molten stone ran down their sides.

—The World of Ice and Fire - The Reign of the Dragons: The Conquest

Moreover we have the parallels that Sansa shares with Jenny of Oldstones. And Oldstones serves us as an example of the strength of the stone.

Just like Winterfell was the stronghold of the ancient Kings of Winter, Oldstones was the stronghold of the ancient River Kings (House Mudd of Oldstones), both dynasties descendants of the First Men. And if we read about Oldstones, thinking about Winterfell is an inevitability:

They reached Oldstones after eight more days of steady rain, and made their camp upon the hill overlooking the Blue Fork, within a ruined stronghold of the ancient river kings. Its foundations remained amongst the weeds to show where the walls and keeps had stood, but the local smallfolk had long ago made off with most of the stones to raise their barns and septs and holdfasts. Yet in the center of what once would have been the castle’s yard, a great carved sepulcher still rested, half hidden in waist-high brown grass amongst a stand of ash. The lid of the sepulcher had been carved into a likeness of the man whose bones lay beneath, but the rain and the wind had done their work. The king had worn a beard, they could see, but otherwise his face was smooth and featureless, with only vague suggestions of a mouth, a nose, eyes, and the crown about the temples. His hands folded over the shaft of a stone warhammer that lay upon his chest. Once the warhammer would have been carved with runes that told its name and history, but all that the centuries had worn away. The stone itself was cracked and crumbling at the corners, discolored here and there by spreading white splotches of lichen, while wild roses crept up over the king’s feet almost to his chest.

—A Storm of Swords - Catelyn V

Despite the pass of time the foundations of Oldstones remained and the stones were even used by the smallfolk to rise new buildings. The stone is really strong.

What also remained despite the centuries was the tomb of King Tristifer IV Mudd, also known as the Hammer of Justice, which immediately reminds me of the crypts of Winterfell and its stone kings sitting on their thrones with their swords across their laps.

And just like songs are still sung about a girl named Jenny from Oldstones who found true love with a Targaryen prince, I’m pretty sure that many songs will be sung about Sansa Stark from Winterfell and her own Targaryen prince.

Finally, is worth mentioning that Stark means “strong” in German. And there’s a theory about House Strong (extinguished) being linked to House Stark.

Stone = Strong = Stark

So by saying the stone is strong, we are also saying the stone is Stark.

Alayne Stone is Sansa Stark.

***

There you have it.

Thanks for your message ♡

[heyitsyn]

Keeping Up With Seijoh Ep. 1

a/n: this is a mini-series that are based off of your asks and once i,,,,, finish,,,, my seijoh phase, i will also do this for the other schools but pls take these offerings in the meantime as i work on the next part of my manager!seijoh and the time traveler au 

for more seijoh content, check this masterlist out!

anon request: 

Wow, your series of Seijoh managers is so cute.🥺👉👈 After starting to read, I can only think about Oikawa and y / n on a Saturday night seeing mean girls, painting nails, taking care of the skin and the another day Oiks rubbing the face of everyone who spends much more time with his dear businessman LMAOO Anyway, congratulations on your work 💕💕 seriously, I LOVE this series omg-

I MIGHT BE AN IWA AND KYO STAN BUT OIKS IS DEFINITELY THE MOST BEAUTIFUL AND PRETTIEST DUMPSTER IVE EVER SEEN

yep lets start the pilot

so basically, oikawa was being oikawa again

what might i mean, you ask

well, he was starting to work much harder than before since this was his last ever inter-high and his last ever chance on beating ushiwaka 

even though they finally have the team assembled avengers assemble! with kyo back on the team, he still felt lacking and wanted to use every single free time to work on becoming better

yall fun fact about me, oikawa is actually my favorite character bc of how hard he works and the pain i have in that once scene during the karasuno match when he slammed into the tables and was struggling to get up bc of his knee----NO IM SOBBING AGAIN

iwa noticed him doing this again so he sent you out to drag him out and distract him from this 

‘cmon oikawa-san-’

‘NO, Y/N-CHAN! I HAVE TO-’

‘no, the only thing you have to do is spend time with me bc i miss you and i want to have that movie you kept talking about’

bahahaha he is so whipped that a single ‘i miss you’ from you will literally make him break his back and bend for you

it was successful and you were in your room, your parents understanding oikawa and his antics since youve complained about it before, and he was sitting on your floor while looking through movies

‘y/n-chan, do you have no alien movies in here? or barbie?’

IN MY CONTENT, IT IS CANON THAT OIKAWA LOVES THE BARBIE MOVIES FITE ME

you laughed from your spot on your bed and shook your head

‘no, oikawa-san. natsu took all my barbie movies and i get scared of alien movies’

he pouted but continued to look until his eyes literally lit up

it was like god took a picture of him and you saw the flash

‘MEAN GIRLS! Y/N-CHAN I DIDNT KNOW YOU LIKED THIS TYPE OF MOVIE!’

he shrieked but you shrugged

‘meh. katsuki, natsu’s boyfriend, gave it to natsu as a joke but he gave it to me instead bc he cannot stand regina george’

you reasoned while picking out nail polish colors and looking through the ingredients of your face masks

‘WE’RE WATCHING THIS! PERIODT!’

omg hes so loud but i am too so we compatible

ugh i hate my logic

then later,

as the movie played, you were arguing with oikawa as he refused to wear the unicorn and wanted the panda one, which was your favorite

‘OIKAWA-SAN, I LIKE THIS ONE!’

‘Y/N-CHAN I LIKE IT MORE!’

you sucked in a sharp breath before relenting bc you wanted oikawa to be relaxed per request of your beloved senpai

‘fine. but i get to paint your nails’

he nodded eagerly and you handed him the packet, to which he simply stared at it

‘y/n-chan, can you,,,, put it on me?’

he sheepishly asked and you gave him a confused and bewildered look

‘oikawa-san, have you never put these on yourself?’

he shook his head, cheeks flushing and eyes focusing on the blue blanket

‘my sister always put it on for me. or iwa-chan’

‘IWA-?! wHAT-?!’

but you nodded anyways and he made you sit on his lap to put it on

‘um, oikawa-san, this position-’

he smiled at you, a gentle and real smile, not the ones for his fangirls

‘nuh uh, its fine, y/n-chan. oikawa-san loves you so he likes you right here’

he mumbled, blushing and wrapping his arms around your waist to pull you closer making you giggle and nod

‘okay. close your eyes then, oikawa-san’

he excitedly nodded, expecting a kiss from you but you flicked his forehead making his eyes fly open and wince at the pain

‘so perverted, oikawa-san. pervert-oikawa-san’

you scolded and he pouted

he said something but you didnt listen, instead placing the mask on his face and smoothing it out

his fringe was about to touch the wet material so you hastily grabbed a clip and held his hair up

he looked so cute that you couldnt help but reach over and snap a picture of him

‘ara ara gomen did y/n-chan just take a picture of oikawa-san?’

he teased but you shook your head

‘no. what are you talking about?’

he did the same thing to you and now you were both painting each other’s nails, ofc staying loyal to your school mint green and baby blue on the ring fingernail

lmao dont blast me for not being exact w the school colors but it looks mint green to me

he finished yours first and omg?? hes so??? good?? like what???

you were holding his large hands with your small fingers and his heart started thumping really fast at the simple touch 

‘thank you,,,,, y/n-chan’

you looked up to him with large eyes, still unfamiliar with the softness of his voice

it was such a contrast compared to his usually loud and obnoxious, mocking tone

‘oikawa-san is not a really good captain since he burdens and bothers everyone but you always fix it all and keep everyone together. so, sorry for everything’

he mumbled and the eye holes from the mask let you see his sad eyes, genuinely sad about himself

you made the last paint stroke and capped the nail polish before leaning forwards, hands on his thigh so you could be closer

oikawa ofc freaked out because wow youre so much prettier up close and he doesnt?? deserve you??

your eyes blazed with anger and he stuttered your name but you cut him off

‘OIKAWA-SAN IS NOT USELESS. HE IS A REALLY GOOD CAPTAIN WHO LED HIS TEAM TO BATTLE THE ULTIMATE RIVAL AND EVEN THOUGH THEY LOST, THEY STILL WON IN MY EYES. YOU GOT KENTA-KUN TO COME BACK EVEN THOUGH HE DIDNT WANT TO BUT HE DID BC HE KNOWS HOW GOOD YOU ARE. HE WANTS TO PLAY ALONGSIDE A PLAYER WHO DESERVES TO BE ON THE COURT AND EVERYONE ELSE THINKS THE SAME THING. ME, Y/N, IS JUST A MANAGER WHO MIGHT NOT KNOW EVERYTHING ABOUT VOLLEYBALL OR THE TECHNIQUES AND ALL THAT BUT I RECOGNIZE YOUR TALENT AND YOU WILL MAKE IT BIG SOMEDAY, OIKAWA-SAN! I PROMISE! AND WHEN YOU DO, I WILL SUPPORT YOU AND COME TO YOUR GAMES BC YOU ARE MY CAPTAIN AND I DONT REGRET EVER MEETING YOU. SO DONT APOLOGIZE AND SAY SORRY TO ME, INSTEAD TELL ME YOU ARE HAPPY TO BE IN THIS TEAM AND SAY YOU LOVE THE TEAM AND YOU LOVE VOLLEYBALL AND YOU LOVE-’

but he cut you off, placing a chaste kiss on your exposed nose

yall really thought it was the,,,, speaking function part of your face

nahnahnah that is only for the doggie

oop what

 you stopped, flustered at the sudden action but oikawa smiled

‘i love you, y/n. i really love you so give me a chance, okay? i will wait, no matter how long it takes but,,,, let me catch up and for now, think about me, okay?’

BRUH HOW IS THAT RELEVANT TO HER LONG RANT LIKE WHAT---

you tilted your head to the side, confused

she is deadass naive like bls protect her

‘a chance for what? you want to catch up for what? youre already good, oikawa-san’

then he laughed

so much more different than the ones he let out in public

it was so,,,, beautiful

you found yourself grinning with him and he calmed down, brushing away the stray hairs that is in danger of getting stuck on your mask

‘come on, y/n-chan. lets go take this off’

he stood up and offered his hand which you took

after the moisturizing and final touch-ups for your skin, you finally settled on the blanket fort and dozed off, the movie still playing but you were too comfortable in oikawa’s arms that you didnt even notice the credits rolling

the next day, you didnt feel the need to mention it at all

but oikawa did and it was still truly an accident

iwa heard about him staying late again and you having to drag him out of there and he was hitting him and kicking him again

you were so used to this that you were just writing down your notes at the corner, oblivious to oikawa’s crying

finally, he had enough of it

‘SEE THIS IS WHY Y/N-CHAN DOESNT LET YOU SPEND THE NIGHT WITH HER! BECAUSE YOU ARE SO MEAN!’

um, sire what did you just say

that was completely taken out of context and everyone, omg, especially iwa and kyo just froze

‘what,,, did you just say?’

iwa asked in a dangerously low voice and you shrugged

‘you told me to distract him, iwa-san, so i did. he was happy and satisfied and thats all that matters, right?’

you shot them a smile and oiks had such a smug smile when iwa looked at him and he was about to hit him when kyo just came out of nowhere and YEETED the smile off of his face

oikawa screamed

just a wittle blurb about this bc i totally love this :( and he totally needs more love and some of my readers love oikawa and want oikawa manager content so here it is!!! feast on these crumbs!!!!

[dashedwithromance]

Slithered Here From Eden - Princewitch

KINGDOM OF THE WICKED SPOILERS!!! I CANNOT STRESS ENOUGH HOW SPOILERY THIS FIC IS. THE HEIGHT OF SPOILERS!! THE PEAK OF SPOILERS!! THIS IS A VERY LOUD WARNING!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! KINGDOM OF THE WICKED SPOILERS BEYOND THIS POINT DO NOT KEEP READING IF YOU DONT WISH TO BE SPOILED THANK YOUUUUUU

anyways here is my first princewitch fic!! i hope you guys like it, and let me know if you have any ideas for fics for those two. im a little nervous to put this out here - ive written only cressworth and original stuff for a while, so im kinda nervous this wont be in character or will be weird in my style. anyway, please let me know if you like this, and if its something you want more of. im already working on a few others, courtesy of @duchess-of-nothing-and-nowhere ‘s brilliant ideas, but send in any requests you have!!! i hope you guys enjoy, thank you!!!!!

---

Hell was, well, hell.

Her husband was busy doing whatever kings of Hell did in their spare time, which she was thankful for. She didn’t wish to run into any of the Wicked, but Pride was close to the top of the list. Not the worst offender, however. The Prince she’d once tentatively called an ally had claimed that spot with his spectacularly humiliating betrayal. 

The worst part was that she still didn’t understand. His motives, his feelings, his aims - all were shrouded in mystery, one that seemed to taunt her at every twist and turn. Bastard. 

Contrary to her preconceptions, her rooms were actually rather beautiful. Similar to the style of the house Wrath had rented in Palermo, but it felt different. Darker. Her quarters were styled in black and gold, with serpent scones lining the walls. The fire flickered in a menacing fashion, though she’d long since learned it had more bark than bite. 

Shadows crept along the floor until they curled at her feet like a cat, announcing the presence of the one demon prince she wished to see the least. 

“What do you want.” Emilia barely gave him a glance before he walked him, arrogance pouring off him. As if he owned the damn place. 

Infuriatingly beautiful as usual, he wore a dark suit, flecked with golden patterns, not unlike the tattoo she knew adorned his shoulder. Her attention flicked to the wicker basket he held gingerly in his hands. Covered with a soft blue tea towel, it looked like something plucked off the streets of her home, not something that belonged within the obsidian walls of the kingdom where wickedness ruled with abandon. 

Silence was his only reply as he looked her up and down. The gaze threatened to set her alight; with rage or desire, she wasn’t entirely sure. Once, the bed that loomed behind her would’ve offered a taunting distraction and a fragile but desperate wish. Now, it only annoyed her, reminding her of the moments she’d failed so magnificently at seeing through his façade.

Still no response. They hadn’t spoken since her wedding, and their last words had been less of a conversation and more of throwing of well-deserved insults on her behalf. He’d told her that she knew nothing of his motivations, and to assume he wished her harm was foolish. She’d told him a few carefully chosen expletives, complete with a hand gesture that would’ve had her mother wringing her hands. Wrath had spent the days prior skulking outside her quarters, never saying a word, only letting his shadows pollute her already foul mood. She might’ve had the slightest amount of sympathy for him, had he not betrayed her, lied to her, married her to his brother and thoroughly pissed her off in the process.

He placed the basket down on the table at the other side of the room. Looking up, Wrath raised a carefully groomed brow. Apparently, princes of Hell had beauty routines.

His mood was undetectable through his face, but the shadows that followed him gave it away, if only slightly. They were the same dark as a summer night; dark enough for comfort, but not the soulless black pitch she’d seen him wear so often. An interesting combination for a prince who seemed to care not a whit whether she lived or died after he’d gotten what he wanted.

Wrath pulled back the cloth covering the basket to reveal – food. A carefully curated selection of her favourites, smelling like they’d been plucked off the serving plates of the Sea & Vine.

She nearly salivated at the sight – the food she’d eaten in Hell had been a sore spot for her. Though nothing was wrong with it, it lacked the love of homemade food. The flavour that came with knowing that someone lovingly made every single bite. There were no laughing families who cooked here, no fathers to taste-test, or sisters to tease while they made sangria side by side.

  “How on earth did you find this?” The words slipped out before she could correct herself. ‘Earth’ was perhaps not the right term, though she couldn’t truly tell where she was. Under, felt more accurate. Below.

He looked at her as if she was missing the obvious – and she was.

The food smelt like she was used to because it was what she was used to. The same recipes, made with the same care as every meal that came from the Sea & Vine kitchens.

Panic enveloped her faster than joy.

“Did you hurt them?” She hissed, desperately searching his appearance for any sign of violence. He was wearing black, that much was true, but either he cleaned up exceptionally well, or there was no blood to be found.

“Hurt them?” Wrath’s tone was even, but she could hear how he scoffed. The nerve, “No. I even paid for it.”

Her heart still beat fast enough to burst from her chest, so he continued, “Relax, witch. No harm has come to them, nor will it, if you comply with my brother’s terms.” There was no audible threat in his tone, but she knew it went without saying. Comply, be Pride’s blooded wife, or her family would receive the same fate as Vittoria. It hurt to even think about, however brief the thought was.

She was going to throw something right at his beautiful, awful face. Maybe the basket, once she was finished devouring her favourites. Wrath would certainly look ridiculous enough with a basket slammed over his head, if he didn’t kill her first.

“It’s not poisoned, if that’s what you fear.” Emilia blinked, unsure how to respond. He seemed to be lingering, if demon princes could ever linger. Why wouldn’t he leave?

She nodded, restraining a biting retort about how she was sure that fact was a deep disappointment for him. Remembering the odd rules of demonhood, she thanked him.

Still, he wouldn’t leave. Just stood there, watching her with those golden eyes that peered into her very soul, reaching inside and setting her alight. His gaze was unnerving.

Her patience, which had thinned dramatically since becoming a co-ruler of Hell, waned, “Are you waiting for payment?”

He laughed. Actually laughed. A short, biting sound, but a laugh nonetheless.

“I could smell your foul mood from my own House. Perhaps this will appease you.”

Appease her. As if it were that simple. As if he hadn’t tricked her, lied to her by omission, made her into an even greater fool than the one she was.

“Perhaps if you deigned to be truthful, I would be more polite.” Lies, but worth a try. If only he would tell her something, anything by way of explanation. Even if it was brutally cruel and benefitting a member of the Wicked. Anything but the agony of anticipation.

Apparently this evening was full of more surprises, because Wrath then pulled out a chair, and gestured for her to sit down, like they weren’t sworn enemies. The thought of a biting retort was attractive, but the smell of food was too much. The scent of all her favourites, food she’d spent hours labouring over in the past, wafted towards her like an irresistible gift.

The basket held everything she dreamt of. Wrath laid the table with his harvest as she tried not to gape at the sight. Twin glasses of sangria, somehow still delightfully cold. The comforting smell of garlic and fresh herbs permeated the air. Plates piled high with a mix of all her favourite things: a selection of antipasto, a side plate of bruschetta, a bowl of pasta, and a small dish of cannoli. If she closed her eyes, and forgot the presence of the prince in front of her, she could picture being back home, surrounded by her family and loved ones. If she thought hard enough, she could faintly smell Vittoria’s favourite perfume, the one she made for herself.

When she opened her eyes, the dream faded away, and there was only Wrath sitting across from her. Despite all the effort she presumed he must’ve taken to fetch the food, he sat watching like he thought it was attack him. Or she would. A laugh escaped her lips, almost hysterical, at the situation. Her, Queen of Hell, sat with her husband’s brother, another demon prince, as they ate food from her family’s restaurant. Comical, if disturbing.

“It won’t bite,” She said, eagerly helping herself to a plate. His eyes flickered with the promise of his bite, and she fought to keep any sign of her reaction off her face. Now was not the time to think of his kiss, or goddess forbid, his tongue. Watching carefully, he followed suit, piling his plate high with a mirror of her own. If she didn’t know the strength that lurked beneath that bronze skin and manicured hands, she would’ve called it sweet.

The food was – the food was heavenly. The taste of home, the love of her family, the promise of safety offered in those few bites brought her more joy than she thought possible. She wanted to stretch out the meal forever, as long as time would permit. If this was the last time she would taste such heaven, she wanted to remember it.

Despite her anger at the demon sitting across from her, curiosity embedded itself in her mind. How could he have known? How could he have known this was exactly what she needed, what her soul craved? Just as he’d done with the orange blossoms after Lust, he’d somehow known her mind and soul needing nourishment, and brought it as a gift to her door. Perhaps there would be a price to be paid, someday, but for now, her happiness was enough.

It was ridiculous and Nonna would’ve scolded her dearly, but it was the first semblance of normal she’d had since signing her name over to Pride. The meal sent flashbacks of the time she’d spent after Lust had invaded her mind; the days she’d spent lying in bed, a stranger in her own body, while Wrath sat like a comforting guardian demon. They hadn’t spoken, but he’d delivered her meals thrice daily, and never left her side unless to fetch her clothes from his mysterious source, or to give her privacy if she’d asked. He’d even brought her reading materials, though they were filled with battle strategies, not the steamy romances she craved. At the time, she’d thought it was a sign that maybe, just maybe, Wrath was different. Now, she only felt the white-hot flush of shame. Her appetite faded, and she pushed the plate away.

He catalogued her change in mood with a barely perceptible nod of his head. Truly, she had no idea what he was thinking. Sometimes she thought he was terrified for her, her witch-blood and mortal heart acting as a beacon for all those whom Pride had made an enemy. Sometimes she thought he wanted to kiss her until her lips were swollen and she begged him for release. Sometimes she thought her presence disgusted him to a never-ending degree. A mystery.

“You need to be careful,” He broke the silence with a warning, as if she treated Hell like a stroll along Sicilian streets.

“It would help if you told me anything.” She hated the petulant near-whine of her voice, but it couldn’t be helped. She had nothing and no-one in the world, but she needed an ally. Or, if she couldn’t have that, information would have to do.

“I’ve already told you too much.” Lies. Complete lies.

Her questioning had bored him, she assumed, as he stood up to go, leaving the remnants of their meal scattered around them. Wrath cast one last look at her before stalking out, taking the shadows with him.

Just as she was about to curse his name, she spotted a bouquet of orange blossoms on the dresser.

Bastard.

---

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[asthmark]

❝ walk you home ❞ l.dh

synopsis → “it’s just a suggestion but you could maybe put your lips on mine?”

request → “hi ive reading your works and honestly thank u for being a blog that doesn’t write smut. i feel like there are so few blogs like so. all your works make my heart feel fluffy and warm 😊 i was wondering if i could request a fluffy prompt kinda based off the nct dream song: walk you home with haechan? you have full creative freedom ❤️ thank u”

word count → 1.6k

you didn’t walk home often but when you did it always proved to be a peaceful and serene experience. 

you take pleasure in the sound of the pavement beneath your feet as your legs carry you home and your hands hold on tightly to the straps of your backpack. the calm breeze blows some of your hair around and the sun’s rays shine down on you delightfully. 

you decide it can’t get much better than this.

but, of course, you can’t have anything nice. 

you realize this when you feel a pair of hands grasp your shoulders firmly resulting in you effectively jumping out of your skin with a loud shriek.

the culprit, none other than lee donghyuck, laughs as he watches you place your hands on your knees, trying to steady your racing heart. 

“not funny, donghyuck!” you punch his arm to express your frustration. “you almost gave me a heart attack, for christ’s sake!”

he holds up his hands in defense. “okay, okay. i’m sorry. i was messing around, i thought it’d be funny.” 

“oh right because sneaking up on a girl walking home alone and making her think she’s going to be kidnapped is just hilarious.”

“i really didn’t mean to scare you,” he says, genuinely. “i came here for a reason, i swear.”

you raise your brows, expectantly.

“i was just thinking i could maybe walk you home?” 

you observe the way he tugs gently at the string of his hoodie, almost as if he were nervous. but why would he be nervous in front of you? you were just his best friend’s little sister. 

“you want to walk with me?” 

he nods in confirmation. 

you play with your shirt collar, not entirely sure what to say. “that’s fine, i guess.” 

with that, you continue on your route not even waiting for donghyuck who jogs to catch up to you. despite your houses being only a couple blocks away from each other, you and donghyuck had never walked anywhere together. at least, in your high school years. 

when you were all much younger, him and your older brother mark would almost always walk to the bus stop together. your mother had you tag along with them and your tiny figure would often be seen trailing behind them, trying your best to keep up. 

as you grew up, many things begun changing. most notably, the way you felt about donghyuck. before, all you had seen him as was mark’s obnoxious friend who pestered you relentlessly. but you had finally realized how cute and charming he truly was. you started to enjoy the way he teased you as long as it meant you had his attention. it wasn’t long before mark noticed your change in attitude and connected the dots. it was easy to say he was displeased. first of all, having you follow donghyuck all the time like a shadow proved to be very irritating. second of all, his best friend and his little sister together was something he didn’t want to even think about. 

when he commented about your strange behavior to donghyuck, the boy had only said he didn’t mind it. in fact, he seemed to enjoy your little antics.  

mark realized had no other choice but to take matters into his own hands. so, he sat you down one evening to have a chat with you and he certainly had no problem lying straight to your face.

“donghyuck hates you,” he had said. 

you had stopped stroking your dolls hair to stare at him with eyes as big as saucers. “w-what?” 

“yeah. he told me. he thinks you’re super annoying.” 

and just like that, your little heart had been broken. you remember crying for hours that day and begging your mom to drive you to school so you wouldn’t have to face donghyuck in the mornings. mark even suggested that you avoid him at school too so that he wouldn’t find you anymore unpleasant than he already did. you obeyed and soon enough your trio had broken up.

ever since then, you had stayed in your own lane away from lee donghyuck who, according to your older brother, could not stand you. 

“so... what’s up with you? i feel like it’s been so long since we caught up.” 

you sigh, kicking at a pebble on the sidewalk. “i’m pretty okay.” 

he waits, expecting you to add on. he clears his throat awkwardly when he realizes you’re not going to. you had been so talkative during your childhood, what happened? “oh, that’s good.” 

for the sake of clearing the tension, you force yourself to ask him how he’s doing. “what about you?” 

his face brightens up. “i’m doing good! well, grade-wise no. actually, maybe? i have straight c’s which is technically passing but not super good, you know? but other than, i‘m not bad. i finally tried out for a basketball team. remember how when we were younger i always wanted to play but they told me i was too short?” 

“i remember a lot of things from when we were younger,” you mumble, bitterly. 

he continues, dismissing your comment. “yeah well, i finally grew! i’m actually three inches taller than the average male. isn’t that crazy?” 

you’re not entirely sure how to respond so that you just nod and try to give him the most sincere smile you can muster. “good for you.” 

“hey, didn’t you want to take art classes when we were kids? but your parents made you do ballet instead?” 

you hesitate as the memory registers in your brain. “yeah. i did, actually.” 

donghyuck chuckles. “you were so mad. and then you ended up not even taking it. i���m pretty sure it was because you threw a huge tantrum outside your house.” 

you titter at the embarrassing memory. “i totally forgot about that. you must have a crazy good memory.” 

he shrugs. “kind of. but i think my favorite one has to be when you tried sneaking out of your bedroom window but you fell and ended up with a fractured ankle.” 

your eyes dart to him. “oh my god, how do you know that? did mark tell you? because i swear if he did i’m gonna—”

“it wasn’t him.” 

“then who was it?” 

he suddenly becomes shy. “i, um, heard  you telling your friends about it.” 

“you were eavesdropping?” 

he fiddles with his earring, nervously. “i guess. but i swear it wasn’t to be creepy—”

“sounds pretty creepy to me, donghyuck.” 

he sighs in defeat. “i just wanted to hear your voice.”  

you stumble over nothing. “i’m sorry, what?” 

“you’re never around me anymore,” he says, sounding hurt. “i know you’re avoiding me. and i don’t know why. but i still try to be close to you without upsetting you. i try to meet your eyes when you pass by in the hallway, i try to go by your house as much as i can so i can catch a glimpse of you. but it never works.”  

ever since mark had told you how donghyuck felt about you, you swore to yourself you would stop caring about him. although, at this moment, you can’t help but feel slightly guilty. you try to come to your senses.  

“i thought i was annoying,” you mumble. 

he squints his eyes. “what? who said that?” 

you stop dead in your tracks. “you’re kidding right? you did! you said i was annoying and that you hated me.” 

he stares off into the distance, trying to concentrate. “i really don’t remember saying that to you.” 

“you didn’t. you told mark. mark told me. i never forgot it.” 

“okay, i definitely didn’t say anything like that to mark. the only thing i remember telling him was—“ he stops, abruptly. 

you press further. “what did you tell him, donghyuck?” 

“that i had a crush on you.” 

it takes you a moment to process the words that come out of his mouth. “are you messing with me?” 

he scowls. “no! it took a lot of guts, i remember being so nervous to tell him. i thought he would tell you for me but i guess he said the complete opposite.”  

strangely enough, you believe him. you decide to confess too. “well... i had a crush on you too.” 

now it’s his turn to be stunned into silence. “seriously?” 

“yes! i thought it was so obvious.”  

“i would have never known.” he runs a hand through his hair. “just imagine what would have happened if mark had told either of us how the other felt. why do you think he lied about all that stuff, anyway?”  

“knowing him, he couldn’t stand the thought of his little sister and best friend liking each other so he tried to keep us apart by lying and hoping we’d just forget about each other or something. what an idiot.” 

“jokes on him if he thinks i would forget you. we might’ve been like 12 but i was ready to commit.”

you chuckle. “and how about now? still willing to?” 

he smiles, pearly whites on display. “always.”

##bonus: 

you stop at the front steps of your house, turning to donghyuck and grinning from ear to ear. “well, thanks for walking with me. i’m glad we finally got things sorted out.” 

he nods. “i’ve missed you.” 

you bite your lip. “i’ve missed you, too.”

he ruffles your hair. “you’re still super adorable, by the way.” 

“and you’re still super—“ you run your fingers over the smooth skin of his cheeks before squeezing them. “annoying.”  

he pouts. “that was mean.” 

you place your hands on his shoulders. “sorry, cutie. i couldn’t help it.” 

“make it up to me?” 

“and how would i do that?” 

“it’s just a suggestion but you could maybe put your lips on mine?”

you smile, more than happy to follow through with his instructions. as you lean in, you feel your inner little girl get the best of you. your heart speeds up and you hold your clammy hands together tightly behind his head.

“what is going on here?!” 

you both jump back from each other to face mark standing in the doorway of your house. he wastes no time dashing down the stairs, coming straight for the brunette beside you.

“lee donghyuck, i’m going to strangle you!”

at hearing the pure anger in mark’s voice, donghyuck’s face drops. he presses a quick kiss to your lips. you don’t even have time to feel any form of surprise because before you can even register what was happening, he’s making a run for it with mark right behind him.

[fuchsiagrasshopper]

Falling Together Part IV

Author’s Notes: Here it is, the finale! What fun it was writing for this mini series, and now I can’t wait to embark on something else. Thanks to you lovely readers who made this a fun journey. If you have ideas on what you want me to write next, let me know in a comment or message. Enjoy!

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

Pairing: Ivar x Reader

Word Count: 2977

Warnings: light angst

From his time as King of Kattegat, Ivar had taken many lessons from his failed ruling. He was intuitive, and would never make the same mistake twice. The people had followed him in battle, feared him, revolted against his crown until finally, he had crept away in exile. After all of that, there was one challenge he had never faced, and it was an illness.

The fever first started as a whisper,  maybe one or two elderly succumbing to a quick death. It was nothing out of the ordinary, and it had not caught the attention of the healers. But as able-bodied warriors began to grow weak and pallid, and children dropped weight, the alarm was raised. 

The first blow came when Hvitserk fell ill. He had shown signs during a discussion regarding the start of the fever, and now he was housed with the others in a large makeshift tent in the center of the city. The sick were kept away from the healthy, and only the healers came and went at their own peril. They tended to the infirm without complaint, even as it kept many of them isolated from their own families.

Ivar had heard stories of when the plague had crossed through Kattegat from Bjorn. A half-sister he would never know had been taken by the illness. He was reminded of this tale because of Hvitserk's condition. Fear was ever-present in his mind about losing his brother, and he had been passing along messages to the healers to take to him. Even though they refused to let him be by his side, he wanted Hvitserk to know he wasn't alone.

"We need to do something for the healers," You said, your voice bringing him back to the warmth of your chambers.

Ivar turned to you and watched you in silence. The occurrence of the fever had taken a toll on you as well. Memories of your mother's early death had been brought up in the still of the night as you lied together. Though he didn't have the words to comfort you, he had held you close, skin to skin, your air mingling together as you each took turns whispering soft things of care.

"Any provisions we don't need will go to them first," He said, coming to sit beside you on the bed. Dáire was sleeping against your leg, and Ivar ran his fingers through the dog's hair.

"I've written to Father, and he has agreed to send food and linens. We'll have to send men to retrieve the cart. I don't want outsiders risking coming through the gates."

You were calm and pragmatic in the face of turmoil, and Ivar was grateful to have you by his side. He leaned across Dáire, reaching for you to lay a quick kiss on your temple. You replied with a short laugh.

"What was that for?"

"For being strong. I have never dealt with illness among the people, but having you here has helped me with the difficult decisions."

You took his hand from your face and gave a kiss against his palm. "It's something we have to do, right? When the people suffer, we have to be strong."

You were strong, and with the both of you together, Ivar felt invincible. But there were the first signs of exhaustion creeping up. He felt it in his frail bones and saw it on your face. This was an invisible enemy, and no amount of brute force could be submitted. It was an isolating situation, helping the people from afar and relying on the information from the healers. The air in the city was reek from the sick, and the ground damp. Neither of you ventured out from the Great Hall unless it was of the utmost importance.

"Rest," Ivar told you, gentle but firm. "The people will need you."

'I need you' was what he wanted to say, but your eyes had grown heavy, and Ivar didn't like how warm your hand felt in his.

You agreed without complaint, and Ivar didn't mind that Dáire was nestled between you. He settled into sleep as well, for the few hours he could. He had been awoken in the night the past while by thralls or guards with updates on the illness, and he couldn't afford to squander a chance at rest. Turning to face you, Ivar pulled the furs over and let his eyes close, falling into a fitful sleep.

ooOOoo

It was still dark when your eyes shot open. Your chambers were filled with shadows in the small light of the candles that burned low. The season was late, but you were warm and covered in sweat. A sinking feeling woke you, something you had been trying to hide from your husband. In the past few days, your appetite had vanished, and an increasing malaise had taken hold. 

You jumped out of bed, jolting both Dáire and Ivar awake. An empty chamber pot was near, and you lunged for it, landing hard on your knees as you emptied your stomach. With your head buried, and your hair falling around your face, you couldn't make out what was happening around you. The room fell into chaos. Ivar was already shouting for a healer, and Dáire was running around, whimpering frantically.

"(Y/N)," Ivar called, combing your hair away from your face. 

You didn't know when he had joined you on the ground, but you pushed at his chest with a weak hand. "No, stay away. You'll get sick."

"I'm not leaving you," He barked back. "Nothing can stop that. We share everything together. I'm already at risk."

Dáire let out a growl at the guard that came into the room. He had two thralls and a healer with him, and they worked to separate you from Ivar. You were maneuvered back onto the bed, while one of the thralls took Dáire out from the room. Your husband refused to leave at the order of the healer, occupying the chair at your side with an immovable resolve. 

A cool cloth was draped over your forehead, and the healer was grinding down herbs for you to drink. You had lost control over what was happening, your body spent while everyone else spoke around you. Your head was stuffy, and you felt bloated even after retching.

"For the time being, you should room elsewhere, my King. And your wife should be put into isolation with the other sick," The healer said.

"No, she'll remain here with me," Ivar argued. "I will help look after her."

You felt the first drop of hot brew as the healer tilted your head up to drink the medicine. The taste was aromatic and bitter, and you hoped your empty stomach would be able to keep it down.

"How long has she been showing signs of the fever?" The healer asked Ivar.

"This is the first time I've seen her sick."

A wave of guilt washed over you for keeping your symptoms hidden. "It started a few days ago," You murmured.

You could barely make out what was being said by the healer, but you could see the anger and disappointment furrow Ivar's brow. Your marriage was a strong union and without lies. Downplaying your sickness had simply been about sparing him of the worry you now knew he felt. On top of Hvitserk being struck with the fever, and managing the concerns of the people, you didn't want to be his burden. 

When the guard stepped out, and the thralls were ordered around by the healer  Ivar took your clammy hand in his.

"If you weren't sick, I would be furious at you for your silence."

You smiled while running the cool cloth down your face. "That's unlike you to hold back. I like our arguments."

"Then I'll save it for when you are well again."

That was more on par with the Ivar you had come to know. From tales of his mother to the boat builder, Floki, you knew your husband struggled with loss. So he chose to deal in absolutes. He couldn’t fathom losing you from the sickness. 'When you are well', as if saying it aloud, it would keep you from death.

Your own mortality was not something you had considered until now either. When your mother had been taken by fever, she had still been young, and you wondered if she had thoughts about her own death before succumbing to it.

"I need to get word to my father that I've taken to bedrest," You said, pushing yourself up in bed.

"I'll help with that," Ivar said while easing you back down to rest.

It would be the first time Ivar would get to test his writing skills after your teachings. The thought would have made you happy had it been under better circumstances than informing your father you had taken ill.

The throbbing feeling was back in your head, and the fever made your eyes burn. You allowed your lids to shut, hoping to rest even if you were too worried to sleep. Thoughts of the people suffering weighed heavily on your mind, and you did not want to leave Ivar to deal with everything. You were aware that he was at your side, and you soon succumbed to the will of your body, falling into much-needed rest.

ooOOoo

"You look like shit," Hvitserk said, the first words Ivar had heard his brother say in person since he had been taken to isolating with the others.

The days had advanced, and so had Ivar's haggardness. More bodies had been piled to be burned in a massive pyre, and it was decided that once the fever was swept away, a celebration would be held for the dead. It was just one of few things Ivar had wanted to give back to the people. Their hope was clinging by a thread, and he struggled in your stead to keep it alive.

Many others had managed to fight off the illness, which included Hvitserk who was now on the mend. He was thinner from the ordeal, but his appetite had returned with a fierce need to prove he could still devour a whole chicken in one sitting. Ivar was pleased, if not disgusted, to witness his brother's return to form.

"Did you want something?" He asked around a mouthful of meat, indicating to the rest of the spread down the table.

Ivar shook his head while nursing his mead, which had begun to cool. "I'll eat with (Y/N) later."

"How is she feeling?"

Ivar frowned as his thoughts continued to swirl around that same thought for the past week. The last wave of the illness was ending with fewer people falling sick each day. You still remained on rest in your chambers, and while the fever had broken on you two days prior, you were still showing signs of illness.

"She's fighting," Ivar said shortly.

"(Y/N) is strong. I don't think the Gods would choose this to be her end."

If it was he would renounce them all...but he couldn't give in to such caitiff thoughts. You might not have shared the same Gods, but he preyed they would all grant you more time at his side. His days without you were endless, and though he had not spoken the words aloud, he knew he loved you. It was difficult to comprehend when it had happened, but it was a simple thing. With Freydis he had been besotted by her beauty but was embarrassed to find he didn't know what else he loved about her. His marriage to you was different. What started as a strange and loveless affair had grown into what he had always searched for. Perhaps it had been too easy, and now the Gods wanted to take you away. 

"I owe much to her father," Ivar said, thinking out loud his train of thought. "Without the extra supplies and medicine, our losses would be much higher."

"And how's he handling the news of his daughter's illness?"

The first letter Ivar had written to King Conall had been with your dictation, but what you didn't know was Ivar had continued to write to your father in his own words. He was the only other man who could understand his position, and Ivar craved the guidance and wise words he was able to provide.

"When he first heard of (Y/N) falling ill, he had wanted to come here, and damned the chance of catching the fever himself, but I persuaded him to remain away."

"I'm sure Ragnar felt the same way after he returned to find Gyda had passed," Hvitserk said, and it was the first time either of them had mentioned her name. "I wonder what she was like."

Ivar didn't. Dwelling on the dead was something he had done for so long after his mother's murder, and he could bring himself to do it again. He was comforted by the idea that Gyda was reunited with her mother and father in Valhalla, even if it meant peace for Lagertha.

"My King," They were interrupted by your personal thrall. She appeared rather giddy, which had Hvitserk tossing him a confused look. "The Queen requests your presence in your chambers."

"Is she well?" Ivar asked, bracing to stand on his crutch. 

"Aye, she is eating again," The thrall replied with a giggle. "Almost as much as master Hvitserk."

Hvitserk let out a belch and a chuckle. "Odin had heard you, brother."

Ivar refrained from allowing his relief to get the better of him, but he started for your chambers as quickly as he could propel his body. It was the first time in days he was approaching your shared room with excitement rather than dread. Seeing you spread out in the center of the bed with the furs pulled down to stave off the fever had weakened his heart. He took the words of your thrall with a grain of salt, deciding he would determine your state for himself.

He burst forth through the threshold the moment he reached it and was met with the strong smell of fermented fish. You were propped up with furs and cushions, a plate balanced on your lap. Dáire was perched up on his hind legs by your side as you tossed him a scrap of food.

"You're awake," Ivar said out of breath. 

"And you came all this way to see me," You teased with a tired but pleasant smile. "I missed you."

Ivar shut the door and came to sit on the bed. "I've hardly left your side."

"I know, but I wasn't aware of much that went on around me, and I must have made for dreadful company."

The only dreadful thing had been when watching the color fade out from your face as you slept through the fever. A warm glow was set upon your cheeks again, and it was the first time he'd seen you eat whole food.

"How is Hvitserk?" You asked, interrupting his reminiscing of terrible thoughts.

"He remains eating any extra provisions your father had sent to us," He explained, and you laughed at the answer. "I should grab a healer."

Your hand reached out and tugged on his sleeve, keeping him in place. "Hlíf was already here before you came. She thinks I've been free of the sickness for two days now."

"But you were sick this morning," Ivar said, not understanding the healer’s interpretation. 

"Yes, and that will likely continue for a time," You paused and breathed a small laugh. "I'm with child."

Ivar's strange first reaction was to look down at your stomach as if expecting to find a curve to your middle. It was too soon to tell by looking, but that didn't stop him from reaching out and placing a hand down on your warm belly.

"When did you find out?"

"The healer told me this morning, but I suspected it was possible as the fever faded, and I still was waking up unwell," You said, your hand joining his. "What are you thinking?"

So many things, yet his mind was quiet. There was fear that the child wouldn't survive long enough to be born, or worse it would carry his affliction. He couldn’t do to you what he did to Freydis, but he wondered if he would see his own child as a burden, much as Ragnar saw him.

"Ivar," You whispered, moving in close. "Come back to me."

He blinked, seeing the worried look appear on your face. "I'm afraid when I should be happy. What if this child brings nothing but disappointment?"

"Only if we let it. We cannot control our fate, and if we fall off one path we won't stop. We'll take a new one together, with our child. I don't believe this is a miracle or a blessing, it is just the result of us falling in love, together."

"I thought good Christians believed in those miracles," He murmured, while brought to ease by what you had said.

You wrinkled your nose in disgust. "No God should be so lazy, and they can't claim responsibility for every child born of one breath."

Ivar pulled you down beside him on the, and he was pleased by the surprised shriek you let out. "I'll make a heathen out of you yet."

"I love you, husband."

He'd held on for so long without the need for love, but now as you offered it, so safe and simple, he knew he would take it all. It was different than any other time before, not smothering or conniving. It was a tranquil pool he could wade into without the worry of squalls or tidal waves. Ivar was grateful you had both fallen together. 

"Of course you do, and I love you right back."

@peachyboneless

@didiintheblog

@soleil-dor

@zuxiezendler

@pieces-by-me

@xbellaxcarolinax

@heavenly1927

@everyartistwas-firstanamateur

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@xceafh

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@rastakami23

[darkisrising]

Five Times, by DarkIsRising,pt5

Previous parts here on ao3

Five Times Din and Luke Met (and one time they never parted)

5.

Somehow it’s Boba Fett of all beings that gets Luke in touch with Grogu’s dad again.

Fett doesn’t want to help him, of course. Not after all the bad blood that’s been spilled between them, especially with the sarlacc pit thing from a few years back, and there’s a lot of the holocomm where the blue flicker of Fett’s image is silent with his arms crossed while Luke has to practically crawl on his belly to get him to take the call, let alone listen to Luke, let alone relent enough to give Luke a name.

Just a name.

“Come on, Fett, that’s all I’m asking for.”

“Wow, Skywalker. You really fucked up this time, didn’t you?”

And Luke has to agree that yes, he did indeed fuck up though in his defense he was riding high on the Force at the time, but that’s not something that’s likely to sway Fett one way of the other so he goes the meek route, saying quietly: “I really did. Will you help me?”

Fett’s helmet tilts to the side, like maybe he’s finally considering it, and Luke is a deft enough swordsman these days to press an advantage when he sees one.

“Not even for my sake. For his son’s.”

Fett’s sigh is loud enough to be picked up on his voice modulator on Tatooine, travel through the shared holocomm connection—in one end of the outer rim and out the other—to finally make itself heard in the communications room on Yavin IV’s moon.

“Din Djarin,” comes the terse reply before the connection is abruptly cut off from Fett’s end.

Which isn’t much to go on, considering all he knows is his name and that he’s a Mandalorian, but it is a start.

As it turns out, it’s more than enough because not only is Din Djarin a Mandalorian, he’s the Mandalorian.

“I didn’t realize you came from royalty,” Luke says to Grogu not a little bit stunned as they wait for someone to find the Mand'alor and patch their comm through.

After that it’s a lot of back and forth to strategize a time when he’s able to fly over between all the things he’s gotta do as a king trying to reunify his home sector.

The ship that finally settles down in front of the temple is more of a junker than Luke would expect from a king. The paint is peeling, some of the stabilizer flaps are slow to retract, and there’s a groan when the ramp extends that makes the spacerhead in Luke itch to grab some oil and go to town on those hinges.

Instead Luke stays where he is and when he spots the shine of pure, silver beskar coming down the ramp he falls into a bow which he’s only mastered thanks to extensive holocomming with Leia as she berated him over his pisspoor form while he yelled back that he grew up a farmer for druk’s sake when was he supposed to learn this sithspit king-greeting nonsense?

“You don’t have to do that,” comes a soft voice and Luke looks up in time to see that Grogu has raced ahead with his arms raised to be picked up. In a clean motion that speaks of a body honed for movement he sweeps down and takes Grogu in his arms. “Hey, kid. You have no idea how much I’ve missed you.”

Luke intends to make himself scarce for this reunion which has been a long time coming, but is stopped when the Mand’alor starts asking Luke questions about Grogu’s training, about how he spends his days, what he’s been eating, how he’s been sleeping, if he’s been behaving…

“He’s been a joy to have here, Lord Djarin,” Luke says and it earns him a long, silent look.

“I think you can call me Din, all things considered,” he says before setting Grogu down so that he can dig into his belt’s pouch. “Anyway, I brought presents.”

Grogu’s face turns incandescent when he sees the silver ball that Din plucks from his hip. The sound he makes is nothing short of pure elation and Luke has to laugh alongside the gentle chuckle that comes through Din’s helmet.

“Ah, yes. The famous silver ball,” Luke grins. “I hear Grogu thinking about it all the time, I’m happy he’s finally reunited with it.”

Grogu insists on dragging Din around to show his father his favorite places around the Temple’s grounds, and his enthusiasm is catching. Luke trails along, offering commentary that this is the boulder Grogu had managed to lift through the Force two weeks ago, there was the meadow where he’d been able to deflect his first training droid bolt with Luke’s lightsaber, here is the lake where they’ve been watching the tadpoles gradually grow legs. Settling on a log to watch as Grogu chases a pair frogs along the lake’s muddy shoreline, Luke can feel the weight of Din’s thoughts even if he can’t see their exact shape.

“And you don’t worry about that?” Din asks, voice so withdrawn it could almost be mistaken for shy. “All these attachments he’s got going on? The ball and, well, me? You don’t think it’ll get in the way of his training?”

Luke can only shrug.

“I guess it could, but seeing as I talk to my sister and my brother-in-law nearly every other day it would be awfully hypocritical of me to stop Grogu from forming attachments, himself.”

Din is silent at that, considering, as Luke continues on: “I’ve read some of what the Jedi used to believe, and honestly I have no idea if they had the right idea or not. Their way led to the fall of one of their own who in turn brought down the entire Order. Would things have been different if he’d been allowed to love more freely?” He breaks off to watch Grogu, now bored with the frogs, float the silver ball through the air in a lazy curling pattern.

The last afternoon sun catches at the smooth surface and turns the ball gold along the edges.

“I’d like to think it would. So I’m not planning on holding myself away from that sort of love on the off chance that it might actually be the thing that maintains balance in the Force, and I could hardly hold my student to a different standard. That wouldn’t be fair.”

“I see,” Din says and the simple words lay between them in a complicated tangle. “Well, if that's the way of it, then, here: I brought you something, too,” he says at last and reaches back to his belt.

Years of politeness pressed into him by Aunt Beru at the moisture farm have Luke saying “You didn't have to do that” before Din has so much as taken his hand out of his belt’s pouch, which is just as well since the moment he gets a look at what’s in Din’s hand his heart stutters to a halt in his chest so that it can jump into his throat.

“No,” Luke says, eyes wide, while a cold, dawning understanding creeps across his skin and he can only stare at the bounty puck that glints silver in Din’s gloved palm.

“Oh, no,” Luke whispers sickly “What—”

No, no, no. Oh, sweet Force no.

His voice, Luke realizes. He should have known him from his voice. Even if the beskar is different, his voice is still very much the same.

“I can bring you in warm...” Din is saying and Luke can’t hear the rest because he’s blushing so hard now that the blood is landing in his ears, making a high-pitched, tinny whine that drowns out the words he knows by heart because he’s spent the better part of the last few years thinking about them with his hand on his cock.

“You really didn't recognize me?” Din asks when Luke’s hands come up to cover his face, for all the good it does to hide him from the Mandalorian.

The Mandalorian.

Mando.

Din.

Luke laughs helplessly. Horrified. “I wasn't myself on the cruiser,” he whispers at last.

“Yeah no kidding. I didn't realize who you were until you'd left.” Din has clearly had longer to sit with this revelation because he sounds amused, fond even, while Luke is still reeling. “I don’t think I've ever seen you that serious, not even when you were in carbonite.”

“I wasn’t myself,” is all Luke can say again. Din takes pity on him and lets Luke breathe through the worst of it without saying a word, his helmet turned toward Grogu while Luke sorts through the shattered mess this has broken him into.

“You've changed,” Luke says when he starts to feel whole enough to think in such things as words and sentences.

“I’m still tired,” Din says with a huffing laugh.

“Maybe.” Luke feels braver now. He raises his face to look at Din and in the beskar reflection of Din’s helmet Luke can see his cheeks are now only slightly pink. “But not nearly so lonely.”

“Ah. Yeah.” Din concedes with a nod. “I was different, back then. Grogu changed me, I think”

“Yeah,” Luke nods along with him. “Yeah, I think he did.”

Sensing that they are watching him, Grogu toddles back to Din and lifts his arms to be picked up. This time when he gets close enough, Grogu’s hands come to the sides of Din’s helmet. It isn’t a demand, more of a wide-eyed question, and Din doesn’t need the Force to sense what is being asked of him.

Luke hadn’t known, before, that Grogu had never seen Din’s face until that moment on Gideon’s cruiser. He hadn’t known how much that act of quite literally laying himself bare for Grogu had cost Din. Luke knows it now, from all the times he’s seen the flashes of Din go by in Grogu’s memories and he realizes it now, with a rekindling of his blush, from the memory that Din hadn’t removed his helmet in that hour they two had spent in a water-stained room on Tatooine.

“Let me leave the two of you alone,” Luke offers, clambering to his feet, gaze averted.

“It’s okay,” Din says. “You've seen it already.”

“Oh. I mean,” he stammers, staring at the green foliage, the insects that are curling through the dappled oranges of sunset, the ripples of water that skim the surface of the lake... really at anything but Din. “Yeah, I have, but--”

“Unless you'd rather I keep it on.” Din’s voice is different now. Softer, for having taken his helmet off, and the sound of it does something to Luke. It makes him shiver, this transformation from hard-shelled warrior to someone far more human. “Some people have a thing for it and I know how much you liked it on before.”

His eyes are nearly black in the fading day’s light when Luke snaps his face around to meet them. They harbor a glint that Luke stares at suspiciously. “You're teasing me aren't you?”

Somewhere among the rugged stubble on his cheeks and the dark lines of his mustache a smile quirks at the corner of Din’s mouth. “Yeah. I am.”

Luke’s heart beats triple time as he stares at Din’s mouth before letting his gaze skim along the vulnerable curves of Din’s face. Luke’s fingers yearn to stretch the space between them until he can trace the kindness of Din’s expression. He wants so badly to run his fingertips through the fall of Din’s hair where it sticks to the sweaty skin of his forehead.

“Because if you would want to do—you know—that again.” Luke is very aware that there is a child present that is taking in what they are saying with big, green ears and huge, shining eyes. “With or without the helmet. If you’d like to do that again. I would be...you know, I'd like that.”

“Yeah,” Din smiles, and this time it is a true smile, one that stretches across his face, casting a glow that Luke can’t help but reflect back with a hopeful, happy, probably somewhat idiotic grin of his own. “I'd like that too.”

[fangirl-everythang]

Happy Father's Day Part 3

Summary: 3/3 Well, its the last part.

Warning: Sad, Mentions Death.

Word Count: 2269

"Harry? " I answer the phone.

"It's not Harry but glad you know your numbers." that high pitch annoying ass voice squeals. Rubbing my stomach, the baby's in go position and any day now my oven will be done baking. And of course, this bitch is answering his phone.

"Well bye-bye just thought you should know where he was at. " In the background, I hear Harry's voice going on about something so it must be true. Hanging up I sigh letting the hot tears roll down my cheeks. Stupid, stupid, stupid. I blame myself really, I let him back into my life and this doesn't surprise me. I gotta pee.

Waddling over to the bathroom door a gasp leaves my mouth feeling the surge of liquids fall between my legs. Holy shit. My water broke! Fuck gotta go. Thankful my bag was already in the car. Harry had insisted once I hit the 36-week mark claiming Styles's are either early or fashionably late.

Ouch. Ouch. Ouch. My knuckles turning white as I grasp the wheel. Nope, I'm not pushing anything out of my vagina. Can't do it. I refuse.

The contraction going away after a few brief moments of completely unreasonable pain. Dialing the numbers, I know by second nature, thankfully she picks up on the fourth ring.

"I don't think you should drive y/n"

" Just call 911. I'm almost there! " Gemma ecstatically shouts. She's just like her brother, "Where's Harrold? "

I put the seatbelt on and wince. It's just 28 minutes I can do this. "He's with his whore."

I can hear an audible gasp, "he wouldn't he's so excited for Athena"

"Well I just called him and she answered. " I grunt keeping my eyes on the two lanes ahead of me. Fuck I hate merging lanes people don't know how to drive.

"I'll be at the hospital as soon as possible but my phones gonna-" the line went dead. She did say she was on like 10% oh well.

I can do this just focus y/n. "Hear that baby girl we're almost there, hang on okay Hunny. " I say as a reminder to myself that soon I'll be leaving with another human with me.

6 miles to go that's what I'm talking about, another sharp pain spreads throughout my abdomen while waiting for the light to turn green. "OH COME ON. FOR FUCKS SAKE!" they're getting closer by the minute. Shit. Arriving at a four-way intersection. I'm relieved to be at a red light, the contractions are longer and much more frequent. "Almost there Athena, this is the last light and a straight shot from there."

Abruptly my car is jerked forward with a sharp impact pushing to the oncoming lights. All I see are lights from both directions colliding with my 3,000-pound piece of metal. Sounds of shattering glass and sirens are the last thing I hear before it all fades to black.

||||||||||||||||

Harry's POV

"Has anyone seen Mr. Style's phone?" The helpful aid asked around the dressing room. I could've sworn I put it down for a moment. Y/n could go into labor any minute now and how I am supposed to know. Fuck. I'm stupid.

I was supposed to be here to perform and list nominees and then go back home to y/n. I can't wait to propose to her, she's all I could ever want and she's giving me the most wonderful gift I could ever ask for. Running a hand through my damp hair, the lights really build a sweat, I hear a familiar voice. "Looking for this lover? " she asks slipping my phone into my pocket.

"Good luck at home. " she smiles and winks. Before I could question it she walks away.

Looking down at the device my heart skips a beat, I have 146 missed calls. And I've been gone for 5 hours. Seeing Gemma's name on the screen again I swipe to answer.

"Hell-"

"Harry," she says sniffling.

"Gemma what's wrong? did I miss it? Oh my god I hope not"

"I think it would be best if you came now Harry." she breaks her voice cracking.

"Gem what?"

"Listen Harry, she needs you right now so please." she cries. Not needing another word, I tell Jackson the address and that I need to be there as fast as possible, 45 minutes later we're pulling into the Labor and Delivery section of the hospital.

"Congrats Harry!" Jackson says letting me out at the door. "Thank you!" I beam back at him.

Seeing Gemma, her eyes are puffy with tears still flowing. "Gem what's wro-," a sharp pain to my right cheek stings. Never has Gemma hit me like that, well not since I cut her prom dress. "How could you Harry? Cheat on her again WITH TAYLOR for Christ sakes!" She yells.

"I didn't cheat," I explain to my sister as calm as I can.

She looks at me with wild eyes pulling me into a hallway with fewer people, "Then what happened Harrold?" I clench my jaw instead of speaking, how dare she accuse me of cheating on my pregnant soon-to-be fiancé. Y/n Styles has a great catch don't you think?

"Is she here yet? Gem where are they?" I ask ready to see my new family.

She begins crying again "Harry there was an accident." Those five words make my breathing come to a halt. My heart shatters in a million pieces "Is Y/n okay? What happened?" She begins walking me to a door. "This one," she points. Looking through the glass I see y/n with bruises and cuts to her beautiful face, her stomach nearly deflated from when I last saw her this morning, a cast on a swollen leg of hers, and a sling holding a very damaged arm. Tears brim at my eyes looking at my love on that hospital bed. "She's awake." Gemma walks past me running to the outside.

I gently knock on the door, waiting for a response which I don't get. "Y/n?" I approach her almost as If I were going to help an injured puppy. "Hey love" I smile at her which she glares at me and then turns wincing in pain. "You wanted this didn't you Harry?" I look at her confused. "This is probably great for you, a way out. Well leave." She states using whatever energy she can find.

"Baby I didn't want- I want you and Athena" She breaks down in uncontrollable tears.

"You were with that her and couldn't even bother to pick up your phone!" she screams. "Y/n I wasn-" a knock at the door interrupts my sentence, "Come in" She says glaring at me as a nurse opens the door.

"Hey there Mama, we have a visitor." the nurse wheel in a tiny cart that has a bunch of equipment coming from it. She looks at me and asks Y/n, "Is this dad?" she nods and rolls her eyes. "About time you made it!" She smiles my way. Placing the beautiful baby in front of us. She's so small and fragile. "The doctor will be in shortly to talk to you." She states picking up the tiny child and putting her in Y/n's arm.

"Hi pumpkin," Y/n coos into her ear. "Guess who decided to show?" She smiles, a tear falling from the corner of her eye. She nods her head towards me as I go to hold her. She's so soft and precious. Her small eyes have a gorgeous mix of both mine and Y/n's. She has such a cute round face, I couldn't imagine her looking any different.

"Hi there angel, I'm so sorry I was late." I see a spot dampen on her blanket that surrounds her, knowing that I'm crying. Her small eyes shining like twinkling stars. So small I can feel her fragile body between my large hands.

Another knock before the door opens when several doctors walk in. "Mrs. Y/ln, unfortunately, we have some bad news,"

"Oh, hello there Mr. Styles." They state acknowledging my existence. One of the female doctors places a black and white image on the lighted board illuminating the small figure.

"Unfortunately, due to the accident, Athena has suffered from what we call a fetomaternal hemorrhage."

"What exactly are you saying?" Y/n ask looking at the child still in my arms.

The slightly shorter male doctor points to the image. "This is an abscess of blood in the brain. Unfortunately, the risk is too large to operate. I'd give her another day at most."

"You m-mean," Tears start pouring down her face" I was so scared she was hurt. I-I promise I saw the light it was red, and I-I stopped but," She began heaving losing more air with each word. I gently rub her back as I cradle Athena with one arm.

"She's still being monitored but I'm afraid she won't have much longer." The first doctor breaks the silence. "According to the police report the car that struck you from behind happened to be a drunk driver, Gage Joyce." I can feel the anger surging through me. "I remember the clashing of metal, glass breaking, the sirens but it all went b-black." She mumbles, seemingly remembering the awful experience. I grab her hand in hopes of comforting her but it doesn't seem to work.

"After striking your car at 72 mph it had ample force to push your vehicle into the opposite traffic. Your vehicle took the most impact and was hit by four other cars. On scene, EMT's said you were in and out of consciousness mumbling about a baby. Taken and brought to the L&D." he finishes.

"Fetomaternal hemorrhages are often caused by trauma and sometimes can be revered but in this case, we've done all we can do." They all frown looking at the small girl still in my arms.

"No, there's got to be more you can bloody do! We're in a hospital for Christ sakes!" I exclaim, passing my daughter to the love of my life. She gently caresses her soft skin. She's literally a perfect combination of us. I cannot lose my family.

"You can leave, thank you all for your help." y/n says quietly, they oblige by her wishes and leave us with our daughter.

"Harry," she wipes a tear from her face cautious of the IV placed on her hand, "If what they say is true, I just want to spend time with her." She sniffles. I nod understanding. She looks back at the small being in her arms, "Hi pretty girl, Mommy's so happy to meet you," she unfolds the blanket from her. I sit next to her on the small bed in the room that smells of sterilization. Placing my finger near hers' she wraps her small hand around my thumb, her grip so tight for someone so small. Y/n kisses her forehead, "Harry," she runs her finger along her small legs.

"Can you sing the song?" nodding and softly singing Isn't she Lovely by Stevie Wonder, in the small hospital bed as our new life falls asleep. All night I watch her little chest rise and fall allowing y/n to get some rest soon following my two loves.

By the early morning, nurses are rushing in because of the loud beeping from the monitor, waking y/n and I. It feels like everything is happening so fast but in slow motion right in front of me. Those three words are the ones I didn't want to hear. "No! no. I have to take her home. She's gotta go home..." Y/n screams, not being able to see her face due to the tears in my eyes falling and rebuilding themselves faster than the speed of light. "Call it." One of the nurses shouts.

"Time of Death 6:18 am March 7th, 2019"

As they cleared out the room, I see her small lifeless body curled into a blanket, almost as if she were sleeping, but no longer do breaths fall from her small heart-shaped lips.

//////////////////////////

Y/n hasn't said a word since we got in the car. It's been four days since we lost Athena. She slowly climbs into the car, still sore from the accident and birth. I go to the backseat holding back my emotions and putting the empty car-seat in the trunk of the car that should have been holding three of us.

Starting the silent journey back home she continues to look out of the window, a frown etched on her mouth, tears rolling down her cheeks as she instinctively touches her somewhat deflated stomach. What kind of sick joke is this?

"Harry why were you with her?" she asks me looking down at what used to be her baby bump.

"I wasn't love, she took my phone while I was on stage." She just nods and remains silent until we pull up to the flat. She begins walking up the stairs as best she can. "Y/n wait, let me help."

"No Harry!" She yells. Pain evident in her voice, ignoring her I open the door and help her inside. "Harry I can't do this." I stare at her confused, "What can't you do y/n?"

"Us Harry. I can't look at you and not think of her." She sobs.

"Y/n we can-" I try to reason with her.

"No Harry, please just go." She whispers.

"I'm not losing both of you," I state holding back my own sobs. I feel like everything feels like it's getting smaller around me, suffocating in grief.

"You already have."

A/N: What can I say I have a thing for dark endings. Anyways I really appreciate the support loves. I hope you enjoy these! Right now I've been working on a Loki piece, I'm so excited for it. I changed the writing style tho, so it's not 1st person per usual. I think it's going pretty well so far.

xoxo Janelle