#sadly most of my gifs were too big but. sobs. THESE THREE MADE IT

[magicalmeowscarada]

Julinems nation how we feeling

[celestialevie]

Birthday surprise // Niall Horan x singer! Reader

Genre: Fluff

Word count: 1.6k

Warnings: none

A/N: Since it's officially my birthday week and Niall's has just passed, I decided to write this very self-indulgent fic (even though I can't sing, but a girl can dream </3). I mostly wrote this for myself because I adore this human with my whole heart. Anyways hope someone will enjoy this fic just as much as I did writing it.

Finishing the first two songs, you chat a little with your fans. Noticing some of the signs they brought with them to get you to notice them, some of them making you laugh, while some of them made your heart clench with love. Sitting down at the piano, starting to play 'champagne problems'. While you were in the happiest relationship to date now, you still had some issues with your past relationships, where you were made the villain and them a victim when in reality it was the literal opposite. Niall was the blessing you were praying for. So what if you were fucked in the head? Niall loved you just the way you were.

Your birthday was coming up, and you were going to spend it while being in one of the cities you absolutely love touring in – Dublin. Although you were heartbroken because this will be the first birthday you were going to celebrate without your boyfriend, Niall. Ever since you've known him, you celebrated both of your birthdays with one another. His tour lead him to being in America during your birthday, which really sucked. You were both bummed out about it, he even offered to reschedule that concert, so he can be with you in Dublin, maybe even visit his family whilst already being in Ireland, you told him no. You didn't want to be selfish just because it's your birthday. Talking on the phone with him right from the moment he was awake (which was already in the afternoon for you). '' It feels weird to not be with you on your birthday, how will I survive without my birthday kisses and hugs from you? '' you ask while pouting. Niall chuckled and mimicked your put. '' I will give you your birthday kisses and hugs as soon as I see you. With extra ones for each day between your birthday and the day we see each other again. I promise. '' he gives you a smile. And you just pout harder. '' I really miss you. I can't wait to see you soon. '' checking the time, you realize it's almost time for you to start getting ready. '' Hey baby, I have to go start getting ready soon. I'll make sure Jenna calls you to FaceTime and shows you at least some concert if you're not busy. I love you and I miss you. '' as you say that, you hang up and quickly text your makeup artist, she can come over. Two minutes later, her and Jenna (your assistant and close friend) are in your dressing room, and you're getting ready. An hour later, you were done with your makeup and hair and all that was left was to put on your outfit. Ten minutes later, you were slowly making your way towards stage. Quickly texting Niall another I love you, and wishing him good luck on his own show later, you were off on the stage, the intro of your song' dress' starting to play as you were brought onto the stage. Let the fun begin.

After champagne problems, one of your favourite songs you wrote was next.

''... Don Perignon you brought it, no crowd of friends applauded

your hometown sceptics called it, champagne problems.''

'' A lot of you might not know, but this next song was inspired after I was done watching the amazing spider-man 2 for the millionth time. My love for Emma Stone and Andrew Garfield is unmatchable. Just ask my boyfriend, who's been hanging out with Tom Holland, how both of them are feeling betrayed by my love for both Amazing Spider-man's movies. This is How you get the girl. '' The intro of the song started playing and so were the screams of people.

Singing two more songs, you go get changed into a different outfit. Going back onto the stage, you're surprised that your manager Anna is standing there with a grin on her face.

'' Stand there like a ghost

Shaking from the rain

She'll open up the door and say 'are you insane?'

Say it's been long six months

And you were too afraid to tell her what you want, want...''

'' Uh-oh, manager is grinning, prepare yourselves guys, it's not going to be good. '' The crowd laughs while Anna rolls her eyes and smiles at you. '' We have a small surprise for you. '' as she says that, she points on the big screen behind you, when you turn around you are surprised to see a familiar face of one of your closest friends, Lewis Capaldi, wishing you a happy birthday and saying you guys need to go clubbing again soon. Laughing as his face fades away and the next one shows up, your very close friend and sometimes co-writer Taylor Swift, again wishing you the happiest birthday and saying how much she adores working with you and that she loves you very much. It went on for a while, all your friends and even your parents were there. Tears were falling down, and you didn't care it ruined your makeup. And then at the end there he was. My favourite face to see. Niall. '' Happiest birthday to you angel. I wish I could be there with you, just like we are always for our birthdays, but unfortunately I am not there to give you all the birthday hugs and wishes. I love you so much angel, keep rocking the world, and I will see you as soon as we can. '' At the end you were full on sobbing happy tears, hugging your manager and your band. The best surprise ever. '' I am very sorry for being a mess so publicly '' wiping your tears and thanking to whoever invented waterproof mascara for being the reason your makeup is not that ruined. '' Anyway, the show must go on, so let's go. '' picking up your acoustic guitar, adjusting it, you announce the song. ''You are in love. Let's go.''

''(...)

As the show is slowly coming to an end, and you're about to play a song that is about your boyfriend, that he inspired you to write. And Taylor helped you co-write it.

Morning, his place

Burnt toast, Sunday

You keep his shirt

He keeps his word

And for once, you let go

Of your fears and your ghosts

One step, not much

But it said enough

You kiss on side walks

You fight and you talk

One night he wakes

Strange look on his face

Pauses, then says

You're my best friend

And you knew what it was

He is in love. ''

'' Sadly, the show is slowly coming to an end. You guys were the absolute best and I adore spending my birthday with you all. This next song is literally one of the most accurate songs I've written about any of my relationship. When I got inspired by my loveliest boyfriend, I had to invite Taylor to help me write it, as we all know she is the lyrics master. Lover is one of my many nicknames I use for Niall, and I know that he's probably watching this or will watch it later, so hi Niall. '' you wave to one of the camera's while the crowd laughs. Gently, you start playing the guitar.

What you didn't know is that your boyfriend is a liar and is actually hiding with your assistant Jenna, waiting to come on the stage to surprise you. Of course, he wouldn't miss your birthday, even if he has to reschedule the concerts. You were absolutely worth it. As he waits for the part of the song he's gonna crash in, Jenna and Anna are making sure you don't accidentally notice Niall before time. The plan is for Anna to quickly distract you on one side while Niall comes out on the other side of the stage.

'' (...)

We could let our friends crash in the living room

This is our place, we make the call

And I'm highly suspicious that everyone who sees you wants you

I've loved you three summers now, honey, but I want 'em all

Can I go where you go?

Can we always be this close forever and ever?

And ah, take me out, and take me home (forever and ever)

You're my, my, my, my

Lover '' as you sing that part, you notice Anna waving at you like a maniac, distracting you and mouthing something to you. As you're trying to figure out what is she saying, the crowd starts screaming, and you freeze as the familiar voice starts to sing the next part of the song

''Ladies and gentlemen, will you please stand?

With every guitar string scar on my hand...''

The song soon comes to an end, and you're bringing Niall into another hug. He just smiles and wraps his arms around your waist. '' Happy birthday, angel. I hope you don't mind me crashing. '' You just shake your head while holding him as close as you can. '' You are always welcome to crash my show. The next song is your song anyway, so you might as well stay and sing with me. '' he pulls away and looks at you. '' Let's go finish this show, so I can give you all the birthday kisses and hugs you want. ''

You turn around with your hand on your mouth, as the man himself makes his way towards you. You're in absolute shock because this man is supposed to be in America. He only laughs at your reaction as he pulls you towards him in a tight hug while still singing. Hugging him back, not wanting to let go of him. Slightly pulling away, looking him directly in his beautiful blue eyes while singing.

'' I take this magnetic force of a man to be my lover

My heart's been borrowed and yours has been blue

All's well that ends well to end up with you

Swear to be overdramatic and true to my lover

And you'll save all your dirtiest jokes for me

And at every table, I'll save you a seat, lover ''

[creativeashproductions]

Shattered Hearts // Luke Patterson

Summary: The teenage years are supposed to the best time of life but not when fate has other plans for Sunset Curve. Not feeling well reader stays home while Luke prepares for the performance of his life at The Orpheum. Shit hits the fan hard and the fallout ensues.

Warnings: Swearing, death, hospital, cancer (type is not detailed) angst, and fluff.

Words: 2.3k

Requested: @lolychu​

A/N: I didn’t go into detail about the kind of cancer because I didn’t want to, I want it to be as general as it could. I’ve never gone through it or had someone close go through it so it could be wrong and I apologize for that. Broken heart syndrome is REAL by the way.

Masterlist

Los Angeles, 1995

There are articles of some medical mysteries that can’t fully be scientifically explained, such as when someone dies in excellent health following the death of a loved one. The scientific term is takotsubo cardiomyopathy, but the world knows it merely by Broken Heart Syndrome. It was a day that was supposed to be the greatest of your teenage years, but the day couldn’t have gone any worse.

First, you woke up with an incredibly high fever and newfound bruises. Pain in a wrist out of nowhere but you wrote it off. You had plans, and illness wasn’t scheduled for the day. Your boyfriend and his band had gotten their big break, well their almost big break. Today was the day Sunset Curve would perform at The Orpheum, and you were gonna be backstage cheering them on.

Luke made his appearance at your house in the morning before early rehearsal, and you managed to convince him you were feeling okay. He went on to their studio, and your mother drove you to the hospital in fear.

Life was an asshole. While you waited for test results pale against the hospital sheets, an ambulance rolled in. Carrying three bodies that would go to the morgue for positive confirmation of death. You wouldn’t know for a full day, Luke’s parents too grief-stricken to call you and that’s okay. 

“Mom?” You asked as her form caved in on the floor near your hospital bed, “Mom!”

Her eyes filled with so much pain brought you fear and concern. With a struggle, she came closer to hold your hand tightly and spoke brokenly the fate that would snatch you.

“Baby, you don’t have the flu.”

“That’s good? So just meds and we can go home?” You asked heart clenching as her eyes closed tight and you knew whatever the doctor had told her after pulling her out of the room wasn’t good.

Couldn’t be good with the slump in her shoulders, the pain in her eyes and the guilt coating her every word. Mom wasn’t a housewife; she wasn’t a flower in need of protection, but she never kept something from you. Always said it straight and as it is.

“Sweetheart, they’re gonna move you to another ward.” You knew deep in your heart the news had to be the worst because Mom wasn’t telling you the whole story. Finally, she broke down, “The doctors got the results back as soon as they could. The fever, the bruises, and the broken wrist have a reason. You have cancer.”

Cancer. A word that sealed your fate. It left you reeling in shock. It shattered your dream with just one single name. Couldn’t be seen but made its presence known. The coming hour was spent with the specialist detailing the type and a tentative treatment plan he wanted to initiate immediately.

A nurse escorted your mother out as the orderlies and nurses prepped you to be moved to a new room. Knowing you were in good hands, your mom walked to the main doors for fresh air only to be astounded at the sight of Mitch and Emily Patterson. Equally shocked, they came together.

“Emily?” Your mom spoke, looking carefully at the parents of your boyfriend. She wondered how the Patterson’s had found out, “Did someone call you?”

“No.” Emily spoke with a numb voice. Your mom took a step back, understanding that one could only react that way for one thing. Something had happened to the Patterson teenager.

 “Luke isn’t here, is he?” Your mom asked, turning to look up at the tall building of the hospital, “Y/N, hasn’t had a phone. She only found out, but Luke hasn’t been with you-“

“The cops came,” Mitch spoke tucking his upset wife into his arms. He was equally as grief-stricken and bitter, but he had to be calm for his wife. They wouldn’t get anywhere if one of them couldn’t get answers.

Your mom gasped, “No.”

“I always knew that band-“Emily’s own sob cut her words off as her knees threatened to buckle. Your mom helped lead Emily into the emergency room before she jogged off to join you but not before turning to the Patterson parents.

“We’ll meet up. Discuss why we’re all here.” 

Being told you had cancer and then informed your boyfriend died all in one night was the most painful thing you had to live through. It was weeks of screaming, invasive procedures and therapy sessions. Your father came from his business trip to Dubai as soon as he could and didn’t leave your side.

A painful six months rolled with cancer stealing your hopes and a fucking bad hotdog taking your dreams away. Nothing made you curious. Nothing felt worth living for.

Not the realistic watercolour tattoo your parents let you get of Luke’s blue guitar you loved so much. It seemed to have a terminally sick child made it practically impossible to say no to, so you got a tattoo of your favourite lyrics of Sunset Curve.

In pretty font, it said ‘When all the days felt black and white. Those were the best shades of my life’ just like it said in Now or Never. One of your favourite songs, you got the privilege of watching Luke create.

“Mom, can I have a popsicle?” You asked from your bed. Eyes barely open as she nodded off her chair, “My mouth is dry.”

“Of course.” She nodded, leaving the room with a kiss on your forehead. Both of you mumbling I love you just in case. You felt like your clock was close to the end, so every word had meaning.

It was a good day so far; you hadn’t had to press for more pain medication like the last couple of weeks. You had managed to turn to stare out the window at the pretty sky. Your eyes fluttered shut completely content that this was it.

Your mom returned to a room with doctors and nurses trying to resuscitate you with your father screaming. No one could figure out if it was the cancer or the broken heart syndrome that killed you first. Your death was a double blow to Luke’s parents the most, along with Reggie and Alex’s own parents. 

Los Angeles, 2020

So much had changed since you died in 1995. Phones had changed, and buildings were torn down. You changed as well too. In relief physically, you had changed from the gaunt, skinny, pale patient to the girl you had been before the diagnosis.

Your hair now looked as healthy as it had been before you had cancer and you weren’t gaunt looking. You were looked just like you did a few months before you got diagnosed and you hoped so since you were dead. It would have sucked to be dead and beyond ugly.

“Do you think she went on to have a family?”

You kept your attention on the waves crashing the beach content to watch the waves doing the same movement they had since the beginning. You paid no attention to the group walking by. Not until one tripped over you landing in an awkward heap.

“Ouch!” The voice hissed. Your eyes flicked down to Reginald fucking Hastings’s blue eyes in pure shock. You scrambled away from the teenager with a sharp scream that pierced the ghoul group.

“Jesus.” You grumbled pushing the little sand that had stuck somehow to your body made of air.

“Oh my god. I think I just summoned Luke’s girlfriend.” Reggie hissed towards the equally astounded members of former Sunset Curve and current Julie and the Phantoms bandmates.

“No, you idiot we’re dead.” You spoke, taking a deep breath in, “After not seeing you for five years I thought you passed on. I’ve been travelling around America and Canada. Something felt like I needed to come home.”

“When did you die?” Alex questioned sadly when you were quiet. His sad blue eyes unable to leave your expressive face, he hoped somehow you had lived to your 90s and died to come back youthful.

“It’s wasn’t harm-“

“No, Luke. I don’t think I’ll ever positively know what happened, but the night you guys died my life ended as well.” You revealed sitting back, letting the three boys join you for an intriguing story to them. Luke wasn’t hesitant in grasping your hand in his, “Funny enough your bodies were being unloaded in the morgue while I was being told by my Mom, I had cancer. The battle was hard but short.”

“Cancer?”

“Our love story was destined to be tragic, whether it be cancer or a hotdog.” You told the teenage guitarist to experience in the afterlife to be gentle about it. The three boys flinched from the indifference, “Have you visited your parents yet? My parents are home for a few weeks.”

“My neighbourhood was torn down. Alex doesn’t know about his and-“ 

“-I’ve seen my folks once so far.” Luke finished playing with your fingers, “You say our love story was tragic, I say it would be tragic if we hadn’t had the chance in life that we did.”

You nodded your head, “Where have you guys been?”

All three boys took their chaotic turn in describing their last meal to Reggie tripping over you with the belief of walking through you. They were in a band with a lifer who made them visible to the public when playing music together. You told them that your parents would choose a destination from your dream travel journal; you would follow them on the adventures.

Slowly you met Julie who put up a distance as she acclimated to having the girlfriend of her crush around always. Julie couldn’t help the feeling of jealously when Luke focused on the teen ghost girl. She couldn’t even hate you! You were so lovely and welcoming to the girl with respect for boundaries, in fact, you were exactly the girl she would have been friends with. Julie loved Flynn, but she could be over the top and dramatic sometimes.

“Good rehearsal. I’ll meet you outside.” Luke spoke, pressing a kiss to the side of your head. You nodded before walking through the white, painted barn doors.

Everything put away properly; Luke was quick to meet up with his girlfriend for their date. Alex noticed the stare by Julie. He had seen it for the past few weeks since you were introduced to the passionate musician with a beautiful voice.

“I’m really sorry, Julie.” Alex softly told the sad Puerto Rican girl yearning to hug the teenager but alas his ghostly body couldn’t allow it.

“Did I have an honest chance before she came back?” Julie asked. Her doe brown eyes bringing Reggie’s attention to the conversation at hand. 

“No.” Reggie answered this time solemn with his blue eyes holding no mirth or childlike glee, “Luke’s been in love with her for years. She’s his all or nothing.”

“I didn’t have a chance between them, and I don’t want you between them either. It’s not a nice place to be even if I was mutually breaking up with his as well.” Alex soothed the live girl yearning to physically comfort her but alas that damn hotdog ruined everything.

“Luke also said when the first big payment came, he would marry her. He wanted to give her the wedding of her dreams.” Reggie unintentionally rubbed the salt in Julie’s wound on the topic of her tragic love story.

Julie learnt to deal with the pain of seeing Luke, so in love and happier than before you had reconnected. In her fashion, she had hidden a new box for her thoughts that was so well hidden the boys would never find it. It was filled with papers that progressively got less romance angst.

“I’m just saying,” Alex spoke, raising his hands in the air after another one of Luke’s emotional rants on the loss of things in death. Such as marrying you.

“Dude, we’re dead, and our ghost connections happen to either be our band, Willie or a very questionable sketchy vintage magician.” Luke snapped slouching on his couch sulking as you were spending time with your family no matter how oblivious they were to your presence.

“I’m ordained.” Willie supplied sitting next to the blonde drummer who had easily swayed from Caleb to the good side again. At the group’s looks of disbelief, he continued, “I was bored! Took some art classes too. It won’t be the average wedding, but you could still call each other spouse.”

“I can check local clubs for wedding dresses. Flynn can easily put together music and Alex can find a venue.” Julie piped up, avoiding the sympathetic look from Reggie, who still thought the teenager had feelings for his bandmate. She no longer did. 

“You can use one of your rings on a chain as well. Maybe hold off on getting a ring until we get money from the band.” Reggie gave his input, earning himself a proud expression from Alex; an expression the drummer rarely was able to give his friend.

“I guess I’m proposing.” Luke beamed already thinking of ways to make his proposal special, not like being ghosts wasn’t already impressive enough. 

It wasn’t the ideal wedding, but it honestly didn’t matter as long as the two of you were able to vow yourself to each other. It no longer mattered on the details other than you two.

Tag List (PLEASE SEND AN INBOX TO BE ADDED! I CANNOT GUARANTEE YOU WILL BE ON THE LIST VIA POST COMMENTS!)

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[fatiguing-thoughts]

“Empty” - Jacob Black x Reader

Summary: Broken hearted Jacob. 

T/W: death, depression, sad shit ahead kiddos. oh and blood. 

I looked at her trembling frame, watching as she tried her very hardest to keep her eyes open. 

“That’s a lot of blood.” Quil says in a panic. “So much blood...” 

I observed her face, her soft face. One that left me confused, she didn’t even look like she was in as much pain as she should be. 

I looked down at her leg, watching the blood pour out. I placed my hand on her leg, trying to stop the bleeding. 

“Femoral artery.” Quil mutters to himself, tying the flannel above the wound as Embry called Carlisle. 

“Hurry up, damn it.” I mutter to myself, trying to bring myself to look back at (Y/N). 

It all happened so fast, the black ice making the truck slide out, the rolling, and then (Y/N)’s screams turning into silent sobs, achingly low murmurs of pain. 

“Where the hell are they?” Quil yells, though everything was muffled. 

I watched as (Y/N)’s daze clouded more, her eyes softening. I knew what this meant, it was almost the end. I couldn’t stop the sobs from leaving my body. 

“Hey.” She chokes out. “Don’t cry, everything will be okay. You’ve gotta calm down.” Her hoarse voice coos. 

“I’m supposed to be comforting you; protecting you. But here you are.” I chuckle sadly, a tear falling from my face. “I’m sorry.” 

“No, don’t say sorry.” She paused, looking at me with her big eyes, the eyes that I fell in love with. The eyes that told me every secret, the eyes that gave me hope. Her hand weakly reached out to touch my face, I grabbed it into my own and pressed it to my cheek. “Where’s that smile? Can I see it?” She smiles sadly, a tear falling down her cheek. 

I smiled weakly, understanding that she, too, knew this was the end. The Cullens were hunting and wouldn’t be able to get here for another three minutes, and she had already lost far too much blood. The nearest hospital was a fifteen minute drive and she was far too weak to get on one of our backs, so phasing wouldn’t even work. 

“There it is.” She beamed, causing me to choke on my air once again. 

How could she be so strong? I don’t understand. I couldn’t even answer, I just looked into her eyes with a devastated smile. 

“You’re the most beautiful person I know, did you know that?” She whispers.

“No, you are far more beautiful. I love you so much, (Y/N). I’m so sorry.” I whisper, leaning down to kiss her forehead as I held her hand. 

“I love you, too. Thank you, Jacob.” She smiles one last time, as her eyes lost connection to mine. 

The blank stare was something that made me almost vomit instantly. I felt the air leave my lungs. 

“No, no no. No!” I scream, sobs raking through my body. 

Embry and Quil stared, watching me try to revive her. I felt one of her ribs crack as I tried to resuscitate her, trying to just make her heart beat again. 

Oh how the sound of her heart beating was music to my ears, music that left me far too soon. My reason for breathing just left, disappeared in front of my very eyes. 

I couldn’t stop looking at her dazed face, the face that would never have life to it again.

The face that once giggled, the face that once left kisses on my lips. The face that held my world, the face that spoke to me, giving me air I needed to breathe. 

She was gone. 

I held her in my arms, sobbing. 

“Please, baby. Please come back.” I sobbed, holding her in my lap. 

Embry and Quil stood over us, watching in horror. Tears rolling down their face, too. 

Carlisle arrived less than a moment after she stopped breathing. 

“It’s too late, I was too late. I am so sorry, Jacob.” 

I shot up out of my bed, a gasp leaving my lips. Hearing the overpowering noise of the last few thumps of her beating heart. It was deafening.

The sweat poured off of my skin, making my sheets cling to every inch of my body. 

The pain would always be there. 

I could never escape the loss that I faced. This was unbearable, going on without her. 

Seth’s words rang throughout my ears as the dark thoughts returned.

 “If you go, who will carry on her memory? She would want you here, she’d want you alive.” 

I couldn’t help those dark thoughts sometimes, but I also knew what he said was true. 

(Y/N) was too good for this world, and fate was cruel. But I would live my life for the both of us. 

Darkness gloomed over me every day, but I found a piece of her wherever I went, finding a reason to continue on. 

I walk over to my closet, opening the door. I admire all of her things, everything that reminded me of her. I kept all her old knick-knacks, anything she loved, really. 

I admired the rocks we would collect when going somewhere new, the place written on it in sharpie. I started collecting them without her.

I got a new one whenever I went somewhere I knew she would like, somewhere I wish I could’ve taken her. 

I’ve only shown Embry this part of the closet, as he was my best friend. The only person I wanted to sit and cry with me, the one who felt my pain with me. We we brought closer after the accident, as she was closer to us than anyone else. 

We held onto her memory together. 

I looked at the picture of her taped to the inside of the door, tears brimming my eyes. 

“I miss you.” I choke. “But don’t worry, I’ve kept our cactus alive.” I smirk. 

Even months later, emptiness waved over me every day. 

I had to fight to get out of bed, I had nightmares almost daily. 

Watching the life leave her eyes, watching my happiness die. 

This pain would never leave, and I had accepted that. 

But talking to her like she was here helped, I tried to keep her alive in any aspect possible. The pack obviously worried for my sanity, but what else is there to do when you lose the love of your life? When your most intimate bond is stolen from your hands? 

When your world collapses.  ____________________________ Word Count: 1082

[marvelfansince08love]

Small Reminders

Word count: 3306

Pairing: Cordelia Goode x Reader

Warning: Some talk of low self-esteem. Delia being a sweetheart. 

Prompts requested: 3 “Just kiss me”, 7 “While they all fall in love with her smile, she waits for one who will fall in love with her scars,”

A/N: Two in one day? What is this madness! Wonderful Anon, enjoy love x

Thanks @imnotasuperhero​ for editing, boo x

Tags: @waitingfortheendtocome @natasha-danvers @saucy-sapphic @coconutlipss @creepingwolfberry @muted-stoneheart @chewbacca0805 @witchxaf​ 

Prompts 3, 7

Being one of the only mature students at the academy, made you feel very intimidated and insecure about your abilities as a growing witch. Learning the craft at such an older age meant that the other girls at the academy were very wary around you, as if waiting for you to blow over with this built up power that you never had the chance to unlock. It made you fidgety at first, knowing that eyes were constantly staring at you as if you were this unique creature. 

“How can you go this long without realising the power you possess,” 

“Is she even a witch?” 

You’ve come to ignore the blatant stares and the not so subtle comments wanting to harness your powers into something far more interesting, like manipulating Madison into being overly flirtatious with Zoe to confuse the innocent couple knowing from the rumour mill about their past ‘interests’ with Kyle. You smirk, remembering how during a salty argument between the two girls Madison had reached over and kissed Zoe on her cheek before stepping back horrified by the action, while Zoe blushed red in response. You had hid your amusement behind your open book just as Cordelia Goode had walked into the room, her eyes seeking out your own as if already knowing the cause of such awkwardness and if the twitch of her lips were any indication, she also shared in your amusement. You blush slightly, thinking of the certain blonde head witch, your supreme. 

Cordelia Goode had seeked you out along with her confidant Myrtle Snow after hearing about your small incident with a fire at your country home. She had such kind eyes, the ones you would seek out when in need of comfort. She whispered soft words of reassurance, letting you know you weren’t going crazy. Her touch was soft against your skin that day, tracing along your cheekbones, the touch grounding you leaning into her offered touch.

“You’re safe now, Y/N. Let us take care of you, darling girl.” She had said, her smile bright and easy that it could single handedly stop any war or conflict. She was the most incredible person you had ever met. 

That was over four months ago and you had grown closer to the older woman, seeking out her guidance whenever you were struggling. The others would tease you about your closeness with the supreme but you would argue back that she was just as close to Misty Day as she was you. You would blame it on the similar ages between you three, but you knew that your feelings for the powerful witch were more than just platonic. It only grew with each passing touch on your shoulder, the secret smile and wink she would send to you at the dinner table while the others chatted amongst themselves. 

You continued to think about that particular thought as you grinded down the now dried out herbs in the greenhouse. Apart from the library, this was your favourite place to come and unwind, clearing your thoughts as you worked. The sound of the glass door opening startles you from your work, making you drop the mortar onto the floor with a clang. 

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry! Here, let me get the broom and pan.” Delia’s concerned voice rushes, as she makes her way further into the greenhouse heading for the broom to clean up the now broken mortar. You go to protest, trying to justify that it was your fault as you dropped the damn thing. She shakes her head not wanting to hear it. 

“No, it was my fault for startling you while you worked, darling. Let me get this cleaned up and then we can talk.” She informs, making you blush at her pet name for you. You crotch to join her with cleaning up the small broken piece much to her disapproving look. As you pick up the pieces and place them into the dustpan you feel her gaze flickering between your face and the task at hand, sensing her nervousness already. 

“Are you okay, Delia? What is it you wanted to talk to me about?” You ask, taking the initiative to start the conversation. Placing the broken pieces in the pan on top of the table, Delia turns towards you and clasps both your hands in between her own, that breathtaking smile appearing onto her soft features. 

“I have some good news. How do you feel about teaching a class this afternoon? Just some of the basics. It will show the younger girls just how much you’ve come along. A true inspiration.” She gushes, excitement evident in her big dark eyes as they lock with your own conflicted ones. Her smile falters at your lack of enthusiasm at her proposition. “Or not, that’s okay as well,” she retracts but you can hear the disappointment in her voice.

“I uh, I dunno Cordelia. I um... I don’t think I’m good enough to be teaching these young witches anything.” You confess, uncertainty laced within your voice. Dark brows frown at your words as if trying to understand them. 

“Darling girl, you have such a strong power.. I wish you could see just how special you are. I see it within you everyday,” she pauses, removing a hand from around your own to place flat against your heart. Making you inhale deeply at the intimate touch. “I can feel your powers growing stronger every day, Y/N. You have so much to offer, not just to the coven but to yourself.” She finishes, her eyes trying to gaze in your wondering ones not wanting to meet the intensity of her brown eyes.

Keeping your eyes trained to the side you mumble sadly to her. “I wish I could believe that, Miss.Goode. I’m sorry, but I would like to give that a miss but thank you for the opportunity.” You gulp trying to keep the sob from escaping, the negative thoughts about yourself slowly creeping in. You feel her remove her hand from your chest, giving you space to leave knowing you are done with the conversation but ever too polite to say. You bolt out of the room the second she gives you that silent permission. 

***

“You just have to be more patient with her Delia. She’s a sensitive soul, my dear.” Myrtle’s raspy voice advises, ever the wise one. Cordelia sits across from her mentor, one of Misty’s herbal teas brewing between her hands as she takes in her words. Her gaze watching the flames flicker from the fireplace within her bedroom. 

“I don’t know what else I can do. She thinks so little of herself, I can feel the insecurity and doubt seeping from her like a cry for help.” She shakes her head, unable to process just how little you see yourself. 

“She may be able to hide that side of her to the rest of the coven but I can see her, Myrtle.” Her voice trembling, saddened by the fact that you have not been able to make real connections with the rest of the girls. 

Myrtle looks at her daughter with understanding, she was there the day you had both met completely engrossed within each other's presence. It was like she just faded into the background, not that she minded of course. Myrtle loved the idea of Cordelia finally finding someone who would treat her like an equal, but who would love her as if she held the clouds above her. That was the look she saw in your eyes that day as Cordelia cradled your face close to her as you came to terms with who you really are. 

What Cordelia didn’t know was that the redhead had been keeping a close eye on you, way before the accident at the house. She watched you fight with yourself everyday, trying to push aside that negative energy that kept a tight hold on you, the forced smiles you would pull to the others around, fooling them as you fooled yourself that you were happy and content with yourself. Cordelia hadn’t been stupid when Myrtle finally came to her telling her all about this new witch who could use their guidance, she could see the look in her mentors eyes knowing she was up to something. 

As it turned out from the moment that Delia had laid her eyes on you, she knew exactly what she was up to. While Cordelia had healed for the most part from her past traumas, her low self-esteem, never feeling like she could be good enough, could never possibly be up to her mother's high standards. She knew that for you, all those emotions were still new and very raw which was why when she held you that day, she made it her mission to make sure you never were to feel like that again. Myrtle reached across to place her hand on top of Cordelia's free hand and pats in sympathy. 

“You know what you have to do, my dear. Think outside the box.” 

***

Over the last few days, you’ve become very frustrated. Colourful sticky notes have been left purposefully within your path around the academy, all signed to you. This made you nervous, you wondered if Madison had anything to do with it, maybe even Coco. You had returned from your daily meditation with Queenie and Misty, both trailing in behind you. You groaned as soon as you spotted the bright pink note on your vanity table, already feeling your cheeks heat up. You may be frustrated with this mysterious person and their secret notes but it didn’t mean you have grown fond of finding them throughout your day. Queenie snickers behind you, already knowing about the secret notes that you had quizzed her about late last night as you grabbed hold of the tiny piece of paper. 

You are worth so much more than your darkness - Yours X

“Damn girl. This is like what, the seventh one in the last three days?” Queenie comments, peeking over your shoulder at the note as Misty joins her on your other side. 

“We have a lil’ sweetheart on our hands,” Misty comments, taking the note and placing it into the small box that keeps the other heartfelt words locked away from prying eyes. You clear your throat feeling an overwhelming lump in your throat, the words effecting you more than you would like to admit. 

“I’m sure it’s one of the younger girls playing tricks.” You defend, quickly locking the box and putting away. You hear them both scoff behind you before silence settles among the room making you turn to face them in question, eyebrows raised at the mischievous grins.

“What?” Misty gazes away from you as if faking interest in your hanging plant plot on your wall, while Queenie crosses her arms across her chest looking very smug.

“It’s just that… and correct me if I’m wrong, but that handwritin’ looks awfully familiar to me.” Misty says with indifference, stroking the leaf from your plant. You frown at her riddles, slightly frustrated that they both seem to be on the same page while you appeared to be on a different book entirely. 

“Hmm, yeah. Now that you mention it Mist, it looks very familiar to me too,” Queenie plays along, a mischievous glint sparks within her dark eyes as she watches the gears turn in your head. 

“Guys seriously, enough with the mind games. Do you know who this is?” You ask tiredly, indicating to the black engraved box on your table. Misty sways slightly towards you, a bright orange note between her fingertips holding the piece of paper between your face and hers allowing you to grab a hold of the note. 

“I found this on my side of the room. Clearly whoever left it forgot that I shower wayyyy after you do and I know this ain’t for me.” Misty drawls out, a small smirk on her lips. Keeping your eyes locked with the woman, you take the note from her hands and read the black swirling ink. 

While they all fall in love with her smile, she waits for one who will fall                                      in love with her scars. 

                      You may not see it, but I certainly do. 

                               My special darling girl,

                                         Yours X

You re-read the last few lines over and over again, realization dawning upon you as you read the personal nickname that only one certain blonde supreme calls you. Shaking your head, you move to sit onto your bed that lies parallel to Misty’s. The two women sit beside you on the bed as they wait for you patiently to accept who the mysterious person is. 

“But I-” A tut from Queenie stops you in your tracks. 

“You two are so obvious except to each other. You two lock eyes at dinner and I feel like I need to excuse myself,” Queenie teases, gently shoving her shoulder against yours making you fluster at your poor attempts to act normal around the beautiful blonde. 

“I don’t understand.” You mutter, eyes still locked onto the black ink. The two friends lock eyes over your head before they both go to stand. Misty places a comforting hand on your shoulder, squeezing gently as if trying to give you the confidence and strength you need. 

“Go talk to Delia, Y/N. She clearly has something to say to you.” Queenie suggests with such kindness that it makes the unshed tears build within your eyes. 

“O-okay, I’ll talk to her.” 

And you did exactly that. 

Later that evening, once the rest of the coven had retreated to their rooms for the night. Queenie and Misty had given you not-so subtle thumbs in as you continued on down the hall towards the supreme’s bedroom where you could see the faint orange light seeping beneath her bedroom door, indicating that she was still in fact awake; much to your relief and dread. 

You breathe out slowly as your fist hovers over the wooden door that is currently stopping you from making either the worst or best decision. With a soft knock and a faint ‘come in’ you open the door and peer through the gap tentatively, feeling your breath hitch at the perfect sight in front of you. Sitting with her back against the arm of the long sofa, her knees up towards her chest as an old book lays open upon her thighs as her long satin black dressing gown hangs low just about touching the cream carpet, is Cordelia with her long blonde locks draped towards her breast her signature black rimmed glasses perched on her perfect nose. She looks up at you as you enter fully into her room smiling softly, shuffling slightly, feeling awkward for interrupting her downtime. Knowing she doesn’t get enough of it due to her status within the coven.

“Hey, darling girl. This is a nice surprise.” She comments, placing her book onto the draw next to the sofa. You gulp at hearing the name that has stirred up so many feelings within you, even more so since reading her last note. You smile shyly and head towards her as she indicates for you to take a seat across from her in the single plush chair. 

“I’m sorry to disturb you so late into the evening, Cordelia. I um- I,” you stutter, suddenly feeling very foolish for coming here in the first place. Cordelia tilts her head in confusion waiting for you to gather yourself. She leans forward and places her hand on your knee, her thumb stroking calm strokes along your bare knee due to the night clothes you were wearing. 

“Darling, what is it?” She asks, her voice awfully soft that you feel your own heart melt by the sound of her tenderness. Instead of answering her you decided to bring forth the note that was read last by magic, watching as her eyes widen momentarily before the corners of her big doe eyes crease due to the knowing smile that appears onto her soft pink lips.

“Ah, so you finally figured it out.” Is all she says as she leans back, crossing one leg over the other. Looking regal as ever and so, so calm. God I hate that she can be like that during these types of conversations. 

‘You secretly love it though,’ you remind yourself. 

“I just- I just don’t understand why. Why the secret notes? The words used? I don’t understand why you would send them to me of all people.” You admit, dropping your gaze as to not show her just how affected you are by those words. 

Cordelia moves from the other side of the sofa and around towards you. Crouching in front of your hunched figure, she grasps your chin between her thumb and index finger forcing you to look at her. 

“They are reminders.” You frown at that, still not quite understanding which makes her lips twitch attempting to smile at just how oblivious you were.  

“Reminders of just how perfect you really are to me. It’s how I see you, Y/N. I know you have scars that cut deep, maybe even as deep as mine. I get you like no one else does because I’ve been there, my darling. You may be able to hide behind that forced beautiful smile of yours but I can see the sadness in your eyes.” She declares, brushing her thumb across your wet cheeks collecting the fallen tears that roll quietly down your face. 

“I don’t deserve your kind words, Delia.” You whisper, unable to make your words clear in fear of breaking down. “I’m just so tired.” You splutter out before dropping your chin down to your chest, unable to keep her gaze. It’s far too understanding and kind towards you, and you aren’t used to having such compassion. 

“Shhh shh, it’s okay. It’s okay baby, I’ve got you.” She hushes, standing to allow you to collapse forward burying your face into her stomach as she keeps you close. Once you feel the last remaining tear fall, you exhale deeply trying to compose yourself. 

Looking up at the blonde witch you feel that overwhelming sense of love again for her, that contentedness that grounds you whenever you are around her. Something shifts between you in that moment as you lock eyes with the blonde beauty, her hands move from behind your head to cup your jaw prompting you to stand so you are more equal to her. Standing a breath away from her, you take in her features as she does the same, as if silent words are being exchanged.

“This may be a bit forward of me but-”

“Just kiss me, Delia.” You force out, your need evident. As you brush your lips lightly across her own. Hearing the slight intake of breath, indicating just how affected she is by your demand. Pressing hard, you allow yourself to sink into her hold. The feel of her soft full lips finally against your own, you can’t help the satisfying moan that escapes your throat making her moan back in response. 

“God, I could kiss you forever and never get tired of it.” She breathes, her voice raspy and desperate. 

“Who’s stopping you?” You whisper back. Your eyes hooded with arousal as you take in her swollen lips. At that, Cordelia smashes her lips against your own silencing any more conversation for the rest of the night. 

You both knew there was more left unsaid but for right now, you’d show each other just how worthy you are to one another by gentle touches, soft kisses and gentle promises of forever. 

[victoria-daydreams]

Of Vices and Virtues

Chapter Three: Budding Relationships

AN: Each chapter I post I gain more and more readers, and I thank you all!

Word Count: 3.7k

Trigger Warnings: violence, mention of hate crimes

Chapter Four: Enter Sebastian Shaw

Today we had the day off, since the teenagers proved to Charles and Erik they were not prepared to go along with them to ambush Shaw. So, I was once again approved as being the babysitter while Charles, Erik, and Moira go to Russia. I shook my head and chuckled at Erik's and I conversation before he left with Charles and Moira.

Erik laughed mockingly and clapped his hands together, "Are you sure you want her as a babysitter Charles? She did such a horrible job last time,"

Irritation filled me, and I glared daggers at him "Careful, Erik," I said with mock sweetness. "Or you'll find yourself crying like a spoiled two year old," I threatened.

He grinned boyishly despite my threat.

I was currently sitting on the couch with the others in an identical hangout room with another book in my hand. Except this one had a pinball machine, and overlooked a statueless courtyard. Plus, this room had all its windows. Angel, Hank, Raven, Sean, and I were all sitting on the leather couches. Honestly, it didn't surprise me when Sean sat with the girls and I, he just wouldn't give up. Alex and Darwin were playing on the pinball machines, and Alex was beating him rather badly.

"Jesus man, you are KILLING me." Darwin complained, as Alex focused intently at the pinball machine.

"Don't beat yourself up, I had a lot of spare time,"

Alex's last remark confused me. Hank had said that he'd been in prison for the last four years, and I don't think they gave their prisoners meaningless arcade machines. The thought quickly leaves my mind as I heard two CIA agents talking loudly.

"Oh, I didn't know the circus was in town!" an arrogant CIA agent caught my attention. "Hey, come on honey, give us a little uh..." doing a terrible impression of Angel's wings, I could hear her mutter 'no' under her breath, I couldn't help but feel sorry for her. "No? Come on, let's see the foot," the agent jeered.

I could feel the anger starting to rise up inside of me, as I felt the happiness in the room subsided. Hank got up and walked to the button that closes the curtains.

"There it is, come on Big Foot. Let's go," Hank saluted the man mockingly, as the curtains closed."Hey, come on. Hey!" As Hank sat back down, the room fell silent, except the soft pinging of the pinball machine.

"They're just guys being stupid," Raven comforted, just realizing how much this actually upset Angel.

"Guys being stupid I can handle. Okay, I've handled that my whole life!" she snapped. "But I'd rather a bunch of guys stare at me with my clothes off than the way these ones stare at me!" Angel snapped again, disheartening Raven, who still wasn't completely over last night's events.

More silence.

"At us," Raven added sadly, Angel turned away guiltily, for lashing out on Raven, but there was no way she was going to apologize for it.

A flood of self-consciousness and self-loathing assaulted me, I tried to focus on my physical surroundings, rooting my thoughts enough to sort out my emotions and bring them under control. My hands balled into fists, my entire body tense. I brought my hand to my temple and massaged it with two fingers in an attempt to ease the pain.

Raven's soft voice called across from me, "Sorry, Claudia. Did we bother you?"

"Bother her?" Angel scoffed, voice dripping with attitude. "How could we have bothered her? She has an invisible mutation, no one could ever bother her,"

I forced a smile. Her attitude was merely an obnoxious mask for her fragile heart. I set my copy down of Jane Erye onto the table.

"You're right, Angel. The only thing I have to be bothered about is people wanting to see me swing from a tree," I quipped darkly. "And you know, gaining basic civil rights," I added, my eyes narrowed slightly.

Our bitter conversation is brought to an end by the abrupt sound of a thud coming from outside. We stared at each other in confusion before I stood up, sensing danger. We stayed still for a moment, listening to the thuds, there's silence and then there's a whooshing sound.

"This doesn't feel right," Darwin muttered, before striding over to the curtains and pressing the button to open them. Alex gives the pinball machine one last flick and then followed him. Outside, there was nothing. We gathered around the clear, glass window looked at each other, confused. I waited tersely, my eyes darting back and forth.

"Do you sense something, Claudia?" Raven asked.

"Something's wrong," I whispered, but only Raven heard me. She shot me a curious glance, but was stopped from saying anything by Alex.

"What is that?" Alex demanded, pointing at the black figures blocking the light of the moon.

The light made it only a silhouette, preventing us from seeing what it truly was, all we could see that a silhouette was holding up another silhouette.

And then it isn't.

I cried out in pain as I felt the fear and pain of a man dying strong in my mind. I tried to relax the man, but he was already dead. Just as I opened my eyes, a body came crumbling down to the ground and smashing instantly right in front of the window causing causing all of us to jump back in surprise. I let out a gasp as Angel and Raven let out a scream in horror, clutching tightly onto my arm. I heard more screams and felt more pain as more men started to fall from the sky.

Suddenly, the roof lights flickered on, the sky is littered with falling bodies crashing in various sights around the buildings, the sound of screams and smashing glass, filling our ears. Guards rushed out of the buildings, positioning themselves surrounding the window, blocking us from harms way. They signaled for us to move out of the way, as more attacks proceeded. I searched for the mind that kept killing the CIA agents, but couldn't seem to keep a right mind. Raven let out another scream as an agent tumbled from the sky and into the glass roof outside

Terror filled the room, seeping into my every pore.

"Get back! Get back! Do not leave that room, we are under attack!" A man without a gun shouted.

In a flash of flames, the red man dressed well in a suit appeared in a puff of smoke and we all screamed for the agents to turn around. Taking them by surprise. The guards taking a few moments for it to register before beginning to shoot at him. It was too late, he was gone.

The glass shattered as a bullet hit the window, and we rushed to duck behind the sofa, screams filled my ears. Darwin stood closest to the edge, his arms stretched out to shield us from the oncoming storm. A tornado appeared, swiftly making it's way around the other side of the building, ripping apart what Hank had called 'Cerebro'. I didn't want to watch Hank's pained expression, when he saw his hard work torn away, but I could feel Hank radiating sadness and frustration.

"Stay here, my ass!" Darwin shouted to us, making his way towards the door. Running out into the corridor, we were stopped by some more guards.

"GET BACK!" the agents screamed at us.

"We can help! We can help!" Darwin tried to plead, but we're just pushed back.

Deep down, I knew Darwin realized that we couldn't.

Raven's hysterical, a complete mess. I managed to calm her emotions down with my empathic powers, but she somehow overruled that and became anxious once more. A wave of heat hits me, followed by an immense explosion. Raven screamed as agents are sucked into the flames, and we run back to where we were. Met with more destruction, back into the room, the tornado was moving closer and most of the guards were dead, falling down, one by one. Raven sobbed louder and screamed again when an agent is launched through the only remaining window by the hurricane. I can't be the only person to notice that we've completely backed ourselves into a corner.

The red man stabbed the last agent and Raven whimpered. A good looking Spanish man and the one that closely resembled most people's portrayal of the devil, stepped over the window, entering the room, one on each side. We were closed in.

Someone fired another shot and Raven screamed again.

"Wait, wait! You want the mutants? They're right through that door! Just let us normal people go! We're no threa-" a muffled voice is cut off and Raven's face changed into one of disgust.

A helmeted man, who was easily in his forties, walked through the door. To be honest, he looked kind of stupid.

"Where is the telepath?" The man in the helmet asked, as if it were no big deal that they just killed hundreds of men.

"Not here," The devil looking man noted, you could tell who was in charge there and it definitely wasn't him.

"Too bad," The other man smiled. "Well, at least I can taking this silly thing off," he stated, pulling the helmet off and ran his fingers through his long hair, pushing it back into its place.

At least we agree on something, he does look entirely silly.

But how would that helmet protect his thoughts from a telepath like Charles? No one in the room could read his mind, but I could read his emotions and I knew that he was bad news, there was a danger radiating from him, anyone could feel that. My mind filled with the echoes of his thoughts tied to one specific emotion. Hatred. War, survival, the strongest race. He was thinking of things beyond what we were anticipating.

"Good evening," he addressed us. "My name's Sebastian Shaw. And I am not here to hurt you,"

I couldn't help but roll my eyes, "Liar. Your little sidekicks just murdered a fleet of CIA agents," I thought.

A lone agent appeared across the courtyard.

"Freeze!"

"Azazel?" Shaw lazily ordered

He disappeared, appearing again outside, swiftly killing the man and teleported back.

Shaw turned back to us, "My friends," He took another step towards us, handing his helmet to the Spanish man. "There's a revolution coming, when mankind discovers who we are, what we can do. Each of us will face a choice: be enslaved, or rise up to rule," His eyes lingered on me for longer than I would have liked. But Shaw was not done yet. "Choose freely, but know that if you are not with us then you are, by definition, against us,"

"So. You can stay, fight for the people that hate and fear you. Or, you can join me, and live like kings," he looked to the boys, none of them attempting to make a move. Then he looked to Angel, standing in front of me. "And queens," He holds his hand out to her and Angel took it with almost no hesitation. I couldn't help sending her a look of pure disgust.

"Angel..." Raven's voice dropped in disappointment, although I didn't particularly like her, it didn't mean I wanted this to happen.

"You kidding me?" Sean's face dropped, he enjoyed flirting with Angel the most, but I never imagined he would be this crushed.

Angel looked back at us, "Come on," she commanded, gesturing towards us. "We don't belong here and that's nothing to be ashamed of,"

Darwin reached out to her, but Angel turned away, ignoring us.

"We have to do something," Raven insisted.

Alex and Darwin exchange a few harsh whispers. Alex pushed Darwin in the side and Darwin turned away.

"Stop. I'm coming with you," Darwin announced, stepping over what was left of the window. Angel smiled, clearly pleased someone had listened to her speech, even Shaw seemed momentarily pleased.

I watched in disbelief as Darwin moved towards the line of mutants. Shaw stepped towards him.

"Good choice. So tell me about your mutation," He said slyly.

"Well I adapt to survive," Darwin explained, Alex lead us into the center of the room. "So I guess that means I'm coming with you," Darwin finished.

Shaw nodded, "I like that," Shaw signaled for him to join Angel and Darwin stood next to Angel.

"ALEX!" Darwin yelled, forming a rock solid barrier and dipping Angel to protect her.

"Get down!" Alex shouted, shoving us out of harms way, sending rings of energy, launching at Shaw, Alex grinned momentarily before his face dropped.

We watched in horror as Shaw had somehow absorbed his energy. I raised my hand to send a telekinetic blast towards Shaw and that's when everything else became a blur, and before I knew it Azazel vanished, and appeared right in front of me within a blink an eye. His tail wrapped around my throat, I yelped lightly when my feet left the floor, kicking out blindly, but my five five frame wasn't really doing anything to stop this man who was nearly a foot taller than I was. I clawed at his tail so air could fill my lungs again, but it was a futile effort as he only tightened his grip

"Protecting your fellow mutants? That's a noble gesture," He shivered slightly, who wouldn't after absorbing that much power. Darwin got up, confused, and Angel moved back towards the Spanish man. "Feels good," Shaw shrugged his shoulders a little and let out a smirk.

"Azazel drop her," Azazel did as he was command, air filled my lungs but only momentarily. As soon as Azazel dropped me, Shaw's hand clasped around my neck, and brought me up off of my feet. I gagged on his choking grasp, my hands once again trying to claw it off my neck. "Now who's this?" Shaw wondered aloud a small sinister smile on his lips, his eyes scanning my body over.

The very air that he gave off was dangerous and intimidating. I mean that was obvious when he first walked through the doors, but it was made all the more clearer now that I was only inches from his face.

It was his eyes. Those eyes that looked right through me and held no warmth.

"Her name is Claudia," Angel spoke up. If Shaw wasn't choking the life out of me right now I would be livid with Angel telling him my name and for betraying us. "She can manipulate emotions, she could come with us," Angel suggested, with a rather large smile on her face.

"Yes, she could," Shaw agreed, nodding his head. "With your abilities, I'm sure you'll be very valuable to us. Your power is very interesting, Claudia," Shaw stated, and a shiver went down my spine when he said my name.

"No...it's not," I managed to utter out.

"Oh to me it is," Shaw disagreed, a menacing smile on his face. "With your abilities, I'm sure we'll be able to control anyone at will. We'll make an army. We'll be unstop-"

"No!" I hissed.

"What?"

"Go...to...hell!" I wheezed out.

"Hmm, it's too bad really, a beautiful woman like you..I saw so much potential in you," Shaw snarled gleefully, then swung his free hand, as it connected to the right side of my face, some of the energy from Alex's power thrown with it, causing me to see stars on impact. He threw me into the wall, my limp body collided with the drywall.

The room seemed to fade, leaving stars in my eyes and I felt my adrenaline crash, but surprising felt more energy than I ever had before.

Shaw turned sharply to Darwin. Darwin goes to throw a punch, but is quickly blocked. Shaw grabbed his mouth. "Adapt to this," Shaw whispered, and we watch, horrified expressions on our faces, as he puts all of Alex's energy into Darwin's mouth.

I watched as darkness slowly crept into my vision as Shaw, Azazel, the Spanish man, and Angel disappeared into a burst of flames. That's when I see Darwin standing there, convulsing.

Darwin tried to find different ways to adapt, but Alex's power was able to destroy the barrier. I watched him turn to platinum, then rock as the plasma burnt within, the orange-red glow peeking out of the rock like lava until he turned to solid rock. Then he realized it just wasn't going to work. He faced Alex and the rest of us, the blonde's eyes widened with terror, as he watched his new friend slowly die. Darwin looked over at Alex with black eyes, as he reached out, wordlessly and the stone started to break apart again. Then the cracks of Darwin's form brightened, and he exploded into only bits and pieces.

And just like that, he was gone forever.

Everyone all stood for a few moments in silence. Then the whole cataclysm sunk in, and everyone began scrambling around. Hank ran out the door saying he was going to find a first aid kit for me, Sean and Raven took baby steps towards where Darwin had diminished, and Alex rushed over to me, examining me. I already felt my face was swelling black and blue, a little shadow of blood remained under my head.

My vision was almost completed darkened, but my eyes met Alex's and in that instant, I knew how much he was hurting. He practically killed a man. Just as the thought crossed my mind, Alex spoke.

"H-He's gone. I k-k- I-I kill-killed him," Alex stuttered, his expression full of devastation.

"No, you didn't," I whispered, feeling even more drained as the seconds passed. "Trust me,"

"Claudia!"

I heard someone yell. But I couldn't tell who it was, for I slipped into unconsciousness and let the darkness envelope me before the person could call my name again.

~~~x~~~

When I awoke my body was no longer on the cold, hard ground of the rec room, but instead on the lumpy mattress I've become used to. Someone must have carried me. I managed to sit up a little less than an inch before my head started spinning and pain shot through my spine causing me to lie back down and gasp loudly.

Pain.

It's a slightly indescribable sensation; all one can really use is a mix of adjectives and synonyms, and even then one couldn't fully describe what they were feeling. Just what the pain feels like, using personifications and such. Right now, I felt like someone had beaten the tar out of me, which is what exactly happened. It hurt to breathe, it hurt to blink, it even hurt to think of even possibly moving again. I couldn't open my eyes, as they were held close with hard crust. I tried to push them open, but could only pry open my left eye, as the more I pushed myself in opening the right one, the more it hurt.

My brown orb peered around the room, my vision was still blurry. It was two o'clock in the morning if I read the time right. It had been fours hours since Darwin's death.

A tear rolled down my cheek, wiping it away. I couldn't tell if it was on my own volition or if I was just channeling everyone's emotions. I didn't want to cry, but I could no longer control it, when tears kept effortlessly sliding down my face. I looked through my tears, and I knew I wouldn't be sleeping for the rest of the night. I touched my head lightly, as I felt a long bandage wrapped around it. It was so sore, and gave little jolts of pain every time I picked up on someone's feelings.

I slowly slid out of the comforts of a bed that wasn't truly mine and let short, loud cry of pain as I moved. I stood up too quickly and a wave of dizziness hit me like a truck, causing me to plop back down onto the bed until it passed. I pushed myself up off the bed again and trudged to the door and into the hallway, I was put in a room at the end of the corridor that seemed to remain untouched by the events, I realized nobody would dare go back to our old rooms, they were just rubble and dust.

It was everywhere. The scent of burned flesh made my stomach turn, and the smoke stung my eyes. I felt sick to my stomach, but there was nothing to vomit. I could feel sweat trickle down the back of my neck, mixing painfully with the open wounds there, but I didn't close my eyes. My stomach was twisted into knots, and it was all I could do not to break down and cry. The pain from everyone else was what was kill me.

Fear. Anger. Despair. Disgust. Malice. Painpainpainpainpain-

I threw myself against the cold, concrete wall in effort to keep myself upright and placed my overheated forehead on the wall to ground me. I breathed deeply, my chest heaving and summoned up what little strength I had to push on.

I wandered more and I found an abandoned bathroom with shattered mirrors and glass coating the ground. I lingered in the doorway, not wanting to take the chance that I might cut my feet open on the shattered fragments. But one of the mirrors was intact, except for a slight, thin crack in the upper right hand corner. It was across from me and I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror. That in itself wasn't unusual, but it wasn't my face that stared back at me.

My hair was limp black and my eye a dull, muddy color. I stepped closer to the mirror, forgetting about the damned glass. And dear Lord, my face. I looked paler than usual and exhausted, worn out. Not to mention a god damn black eye.

I raked my fingers through my black hair to sort out the tangles, letting out a huff of air, a sardonic laugh escaped from lips.

"This is what I left the comforts of New York for? Death and destruction?"

Chapter Five: A Place to Call Home

[rubysunnday]

maybe just like a little timeline fic with john and shelby!sis and how they were there for each other and john being there when she gets married (or you can write whatever you like). thank youu! x

A/N: this is long because I got far too into it

When Y/N Shelby was born, John had been the first one to hold her. Mainly because Polly was struggling to manage a new born baby and their mother who’d suffered a long and tedious birth. She was shoved into his arms and then he was kicked out the room.

John stood on the landing, holding his newborn baby sister in his arms, rocking her awkwardly as she just laid there. He didn’t know what to do with a baby - yes he had several kids of his own, but they were his, and weren’t his little sister - and just held her until Arthur came and took her off him. 

Growing up, neither John or Y/N were very close - both yelling at each other more than they actually talked. Y/N was closer with Tommy and Ada and spent most of her younger years around them. John watched silently as Tommy taught Y/N to ride, read and write. He could see the adoration in her eyes whenever Tommy was talking and it hurt. 

John grew close with Finn when he arrived eight years later and for some reason wished he had that relationship with his youngest sister. Instead, they constantly screamed and fought with one another.

Until the Great War.

Y/N had clung to all three of her brothers, not wanting them to leave. She’d let John go first and he felt his chest ache with jealously as she sobbed into Tommy’s chest.

But two years into the endless war, John received a letter from his sister. She was sixteen, now, and he’d been surprised when the letter, with her elegant scrawl on the envelope, arrived. He’d opened it, smiling sadly at the photo she’d put inside the letter of her, wearing a new dress.

She’d grown up a lot in the two years he’d been gone. She was no longer a a little girl but, instead, a young woman who took after her mother. 

“She looks like you, mate,” one of his fellow soldiers said, catching John tracing the photo with his finger. 

John frowned. “Really?”

HIs friend nodded. “Yeah, she’s got your eyes.”

John looked at the photo again and realised what his friend meant. He smiled, tucking the photo inside his coat, next to his heart. 

He unfolded the letter and began reading it, his heart aching as he caught a whiff of the perfume Tommy had bought her before they left. 

‘Dearest John,

Hi. I’m sorry I haven’t written before now. I didn’t quite know what to write to you. Unlike Tommy and Arthur, writing to you didn’t come naturally. 

I think it’s because we weren’t ever that close. Not like I was with Arthur and Tommy. But, the truth is, John, I miss you the most. I miss you teasing me, annoying me, helping me get ready in the mornings. I just miss you.

It’s been weird turning sixteen and not having you around. I wonder how much we’ll have to catch up on when you return. Because you will, John, I know you will. 

Ada and Polly bought me a new dress - the one I’m wearing in the photo - for my birthday. Truth be told, however, I’ve been wearing your old clothes more than I have my own. Your trousers fit me when I roll them up, as does your shirt. I hope you don’t mind, it’s just helping me get through this.

Whatever this is.

Anyway, Finn’s being a pain, as usual. He wanted to write this letter with me but I didn’t want him to. I just wanted it to be from me, to you. 

Not even Tommy and Arthur’s letters are this long. Maybe because I don’t miss them as much as I do you. I know nothing will be the same once this is all over - but at least you’ll be back.

When you get back we should go down to London and see a show, or something. Just us two. 

I could go on for pages, John, but I don’t think you’ll have a chance to read everything I want to tell you. I miss you, truly.

Lovingly yours, 

Y/N/N x’

John felt his eyes burning as he finished the letter. He blinked furiously as he tucked the letter with the photo, making sure not the rip the paper it was so delicately written on. 

Over the next two years, John received a letter from his sister every month. He treasured them all, but none so much as the one he got from her on her eighteenth birthday. 

It was bitterly cold that day. The 15th February had always been a cold day, no matter when or where. That’s why he found it funny that his sweet, warm sister had been born on that day. 

He’d been handed a giant parcel and frowned when he looked at the label.

‘Didn’t feel right not to share - Y/N/N’

John untied the string and unwrapped the numerous layers of paper wrapped around the tin. He lifted the lid and laughed - properly laughed for the first time in months - at the entire cake his sister had fitted inside it. He was certain Polly had made it for her for her birthday. Only two slices had been removed and he smiled, shaking his head as he pulled out the letter that came with it.

‘Hey, John,

So, I thought you deserved a cake. The��other two slices are for Tommy and Arthur but I thought you and your regiment could have the rest of it. It doesn’t feel right not sharing it with you all. 

Eighteen is meant to be a big celebration but with everything going on, I’d rather wait a while until we’re all together again. 

Miss you,

Y/N/N’

Y/N had included another photo with her letter and John couldn’t help but be shocked at how much she’d grown up in two years. She was still his little sister, she still looked like him, ironically, but she looked grown - up. 

John suddenly realised just how much of her life he’d missed. He set the photo and the letter in his pocket, adding it to the bundle he had, and began splitting up the cake for his regiment. 

Nine months later and the war was over. John got on the train home a week later. He found Tommy and Arthur at a random train station in Kent when they had to switch trains and the three of them traveled up to Birmingham together.

When they arrived at Birmingham train station, the platform was packed with people, all waiting for their loved ones.

Somehow, Y/N managed to find them first. 

John caught sight of her running through the crowd and fully expected her to hug Tommy or Arthur first.

He was caught completely off guard when she all but launched herself at him. 

John caught her, stumbling back from the force of her hug. She clung to him, sobbing and laughing as he hugged her back just as tightly.

“Hi, sweetheart,” John said as Finn and Ada ran to Arthur and Tommy.

“I missed you,” Y/N whispered, still crying, as she buried her face into his neck. Once she’d greeted Tommy and Arthur, she didn’t let go of John. She held his hand, refusing to let go even as they got into the car to drive back to Watery Lane. 

The first night back home was bizarre. John couldn’t sleep - everything was too quiet, warm and comfortable. 

His door creaked open and he sat up as Y/N walked in, hair a tangled mess of curls. 

“Hey,” she whispered, walking over to him and laying down next to him. 

John, surprised because Y/N never came into his room, relaxed as she curled up against him, her legs tangling with his.

“Why you up?”

“Needed a pee. You?”

“Can’t sleep.”

Y/N hummed, snuggling closer to John. He gently swept her hair out of her face as he pulled the blankets over them both.

“Don’t wake me up,” Y/N muttered as she began to doze off against her brother.

John laughed quietly, shifting so he was laying down next to her, an arm around her shoulders. “I won’t.” 

Having his sister asleep next to him, and feeling her heart beating, John slowly fell asleep.

“I feel stupid.”

“Don’t, you look lovely.”

Y/N glanced at her brother as he sat down next to her, sliding a glass of whiskey over to her. “Where’s your wife?”

“Dancing like a madwoman.”

Y/N smiled. “Feels weird knowing you’re married again.”

“Yeah, thanks for fucking telling me.”

Y/N raised a hand up in surrender. “I didn’t know until Polly told me ten minutes before you, hun.” 

“Ahuh.”

Y/N sighed quietly, drinking her drink. “John...”

“Mmm?”

“I know I’m old enough to live by myself...but would you and Esme mind if I stay with you for a bit?”

John raised an eyebrow. “Why?”

Y/N shrugged. “Just...I feel safer with you two.”

John nodded, a smile tugging at his lips. “Of course, sweetheart.”

Y/N smiled again, this time it seemed more genuine, and John nudged her shoulder with a smile as she giggled, drinking more of her drink.

It all happened far too quickly. 

There was a yell. 

A gunshot.

More yelling.

Y/N could only stare as Grace fell back into Tommy, the shooter being tackled to the ground by Arthur. 

The room faded away - as did the screams of panic - as Y/N stared at Grace dying in her husband’s arms. 

She fell onto the ground, dress spilling out around her, as she just stared, the entire thing playing over in her mind again, and again, and again, and again, and again -

“Y/N?”

She couldn’t look away, even as Tommy lowered his head, shoulder’s shaking. 

John knelt down in front of his sister, ignoring the blood on his shirt and hands. He gently turned her face to look at him as her breathing picked up.

“Hey, hey, look at me,” he said, putting both hands either side of her face and forcing him to look at her. 

Y/N didn’t care that John was getting blood on her face and her dress. She stared at him, her gaze locking onto his as he became her focus. 

“Just breathe, alright?” He said calmly, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “Just breathe, you’re alright.” Y/N’s hand shakily grabbed John’s, gripping it tightly as she leant forward and hugged him tightly, clinging onto him.

John caught her and hugged her back. He glanced behind and knew Grace was gone when he saw Polly hugging her nephew tightly. John turned back to his sister, pressing a kiss to her head, as she shook in his arms.

“I’ve got you, you’re alright, my love,” he whispered, stroking her hair.

Y/N hadn't slept. She’d tossed and turned, walked about, read a few chapters, watched the night sky and nothing had helped. 

She sighed, untangling herself from the blankets and standing up, grabbing John’s old coat. She wrapped it around herself and quietly crept down the stairs of her cottage.

Her husband - to - be was out with Finn, both of them promising to not get stoned or drunk before the wedding. 

Y/N opened the gate and quietly walked her way down the path and across the field, towards John’s house.

She knew he’d be awake. He always woke up at ridiculous hours now - apparently it gave him time to tend to the sheep and horses before the children woke, but she knew he secretly enjoyed the quiet time he got with his two dogs. 

Y/N found him halfway down the field, walking along the wall, his two dogs running around excitedly.

Upon seeing her, the dogs charged towards her, tails wagging excitedly as she bent down and greeted them.

“Hello,” John said, smiling as she was ambushed by the dogs. 

“Admit it, you like being up early,” she said, standing up.

John shrugged. “It’s quiet. Nice. Good for thinking.”

“Now I’m concerned,” Y/N teased, smiling at him.  “Why are you awake?” He asked, eyes narrowing in concern. 

Y/N shrugged, unconsciously playing with her ring. “I couldn’t sleep.” 

“Having second thoughts?” John asked, perching himself on the wall. 

“No, no...I just...” Y/N trailed off, sitting down next to him. “I realised I don’t have anyone to walk me down the aisle, yet. And I’m getting married in about ten hours.” 

“Who you thinking of asking?” John asked, leaning on the walking stick he’d brought with him.

“One of you three,” she replied quietly. “I mean, Arthur, as the oldest, should technically be the one to do it.”

“But?”

“Well, I haven't spoken to him in weeks. I haven’t actually since him for weeks.” She shuddered. “Fucking Linda.”

John laughed. “Fucking Linda. What about Tommy?”

Y/N scoffed. “I’m sorry, did you miss our spectacular argument three weeks ago? The relationship I had with Tommy before the war is long gone, John. I tried, I did. But when it’s just you trying to make it work, it gets tiring quickly.” 

John nodded. “Alright, so, Arthur is a no and Tommy is a no. What about Michael?”

“Michael wasn’t on my list, John.”

“Finn?”

“Still wasn’t on the list.”

“Isaiah?”

“Bit difficult considering he’s the one I’m marrying.” 

John paused, thinking. “I can’t think of who’s left.”

Y/N stared at him. “Have you lost brain cells? How fucking stupid can you get!”

“Excuse me? What the fuck?” John asked, gaping at her. 

“John, I want you to talk me down the aisle, you twat!” Y/N exclaimed loudly. 

John stared at her. “What, why me?”

Y/N shrugged. “Well, you’re the only brother who hasn’t managed to piss me off these past few months.” She sighed quietly. “John, I don’t want anyone else walking me down the aisle and giving me away. Maybe, years ago, I would’ve wanted Tommy or Arthur but, truth is, I haven't been close with them for a while. Ever since Grace died, we’ve drifted apart. But you have always stuck by me.

“When I first dated Isaiah, you stuck up for me when everyone else was telling me to dump him. You were the first person I let him meet as my boyfriend. He asked your permission to marry me. John, I don’t see who else it could be.”

John stared at Y/N, mouth slightly agape. “I...”

“Is that a yes?” She asked, looking at him hopefully.

John nodded, bringing her in for a hug. “Fucking hell, of course, Y/N.”

Y/N giggled. “Good, because it’s in forty minutes.”

“What?”

Y/N chuckled at John’s shocked expression. “Well, since everyone was basically organising our wedding for us, Isaiah and I decided we’d do a small ceremony before hand, just me, him, Ada and you.”

“Yes, I remember that particular meltdown,” John muttered.

“Can you blame me?” Y/N exclaimed. “Everyone wanted it their own way, Isaiah and I got lost in the chaos, I refused to let anyone except Ada come with me to choose my dress because I knew what was going to happening.”

“Linda wanted it to be religious.”

“Fucking Linda,” Y/N muttered. She turned to face her brother. “So, will you walk me down the aisle in forty minutes?”

John nodded, standing up and hugging Y/N, lifting her off the ground as he did so. “And I’ll do it again this afternoon.”

The sun had barely risen by the time Y/N, John, Ada and Isaiah were at the church. Jeremiah had agreed to officiate, knowing how much his son was beginning to regret not eloping. 

Ada had done Y/N’s hair in elegant curls, pinning a flower crown of violets, myrtle and roses upon her curls. 

Y/N hadn’t gone for a huge, expensive, fancy dress. It was an old one she’d found in a shop and fixed up by herself - using scraps of her mother’s old wedding dress.

The bouquet of flowers she held were from her cottage garden and were tied with a piece of ribbon from a birthday present John had given her years ago.

John smiled as Y/N slipped her arm through his. “You look stunning.”

Y/N smiled softly, pulling her veil over her shoulder. “Thank you.” She sighed nervously, gripping John’s suit jacket tightly.

“You alright?” He asked, grasping her hand with his. 

She nodded. “I’m glad that this afternoon won’t be the actual one,” she said quietly. “All those people. Most of whom, I don’t know!”

John laughed. “I say we runaway after the reception. I’ll drive you and Isaiah up to York and take the hit, how’s that?”

Y/N nodded. “Perfect. York’s lovely.”

John chuckled, shaking his head as his sister giggled. He reached behind her and carefully pulled the veil up and over her face.

“Didn’t think we were doing tradition,” Y/N said as John straightened it out, straightening her flower crown.

“I want to do it properly,” he replied, kissing her cheek through the veil. 

The organ inside the church started up and Y/N sighed, nodding to herself as John let go of her arm for a moment, straighten her dress and veil. 

“You’re worse than me,” she muttered as she took his arm again, resting her arm in the crook of his. 

“I just want my sister to look perfect.” 

Y/N blushed, smiling up at him. “Look at us,” she muttered as her cue approached. “We’ve gone from hating one another to you walking me down the aisle at 8 o’clock in the morning on the eve of bloody Halloween.”

“Can’t believe they voted down your Halloween date,” John muttered.

“Fucking Linda,” Y/N said, winking at him.

John chuckled. “Fucking Linda.”

The cue for them both to walk down the aisle arrived and sister and brother began walking through the archway.

“Thank you,” Y/N whispered as Isaiah and Ada approached. 

“It’s my genuine pleasure,” John replied, smiling broadly.

They stopped in front of Jeremiah and Isaiah and Y/N handed her bouquet of flowers to Ada. John turned to face his little sister and gently lifted the veil off her face, careful not to upset her crown of flowers. He kissed her cheek and held her hand out to Isaiah. 

“Look after her,” he warned as Isaiah took it, smiling.

“Always,” Isaiah replied, winking at Y/N as she giggled quietly.

As John turned to go, Y/N reached out and grabbed his hand, squeezing it tightly. 

John smiled at her as he squeezed back, letting go and standing next to Ada. 

He couldn’t help the swell of pride as he watched his little sister marry her childhood sweetheart, wearing the bracelet he’d bought her for her twentieth. John couldn’t hide the tears of joy as she kissed her husband, Isaiah tilting her backwards and causing her to giggle. 

Even as they stood at the back of the chapel, both trying not to murder the many people standing around them, fussing with Y/N’s veil and hair. 

“If I did commit murder,” Y/N muttered as Polly reached up and adjusted her hair for the fifth time that minute, “would you bail me out?”

“Y/N, I’d fucking murder them with you,” John replied, glaring at Arthur as he went to snort some cocaine. “Arthur, don’t you fucking dare.”

“And, if I happened to get the death sentence for the mass murder of my entire family bar three people?”

“I’d die for you. Or, I’d die alongside you because I murdered half of them,” John replied. 

“Oh my fucking god!” Y/N yelled as Linda went on another ranting at Lizzie as Arthur began taking the piss out of Finn. “All of you, fuck off!”

“You heard her,” John replied, glaring at them all as they went to speak. “Fuck off.”

Begrudgingly, the people who’d been surrounding them left and headed towards their seats, leaving John and Y/N alone once again.

“Finally,” Y/N muttered, moving her hair, crown, veil and dress back to where she’d put them. “So, if I died, you’d die with me?”

“If I couldn’t stop it, yeah.”

“Huh.” 

“Why?” John asked, frowning at the morbid topic.

“I just wondered,” Y/N replied quietly. “We should share a funeral wagon.”

John raised an eyebrow. “Alright, why are we talking about this?”

“I’m a morbid person, Johnny,” Y/N replied, shrugging. “Just, answer the question.”

John rolled his eyes fondly. “Fine. We could share one. Get them to put us next to one another in our best clothes.” 

“And then buried together on the hill.”

“You’ve really got it all planned out, haven’t you?”

“Can't take any chances when you’re a Shelby,” Y/N replied, smiling. 

John lifted the veil over Y/N’s face, once more, as she sighed quietly. “Y/N, listen. I will lay down my life, for you.”

Y/N turned her head to look at him. John could see her eyes glistening behind the veil as she smiled sadly. “I know, John. But I would lay down my life for you, too.”

“Guess we better die together, then,” John said, straightening up as the music begun. 

“We’d better, otherwise one of us is gonna have to commit suicide,” Y/N replied, gripping his arm. 

John shook his head as they begun walking down the aisle. He would never let his sister die before him. He’d said it all her life but he’d die before he let anyone harm her.

The reception after the wedding was complete chaos. 

There were several fights, lots of arguments and John had lost Y/N shortly after the meal.

He found her sitting on the edge of the river, quietly dropping flowers from the hall into the water.

“I’m impressed,” he said, sitting down next to her. “You didn’t murder anyone.”

“My husband stopped me,” she replied, chucking a flower into the water. “He also yelled at Tommy and Arthur for me.”

“I heard,” John replied, smirking.  “I keep thinking about dying,” Y/N said suddenly. “I don’t know why. Maybe because of all the graves around the church.”

“What you thinking about?” John asked, putting an arm around her shoulders.

“What I'd do if you died.”

John raised an eyebrow. “Y/N, look at me.” 

Y/N turned to look at her brother and he could see the tears in her eyes. He wiped a stray one away with his thumb, resting his hand on her cheek.

“When I die - because we’re all gonna die one day - you’ll keep going.”

“And if you die next year? Or next month?” Y/N asked, staring at him sadly. “John, I don't know if I could live with myself.” 

“Y/N Shelby - Jesus,” John said, putting his other hand on her face and stroking her cheek gently. “You are going to live a long, happy life and be married for years,” he replied. “And whatever happens will happen.”

“And if we die at the same time, we’re sharing a wagon and a pot.”

“Wagon, yes, pot no. I need my space.”

“John, we’ll be dead. We wouldn’t know.”

John raised an eyebrow. “I’d know.” He shrugged. “Besides, I don’t think we’ll have to worry about that for a while.”

Y/N nodded sadly, nestling against her brother as the sun began to set behind them. “I love you.”

John kissed her head. “I love you too, sweetheart.” 

John didn’t know then that his sister’s marriage would last merely two months before she was shot dead on his doorstep. 

There was an irony at the fact they’d decided what to do if they died together. It was almost as if they knew.

As Y/N Shelby-Jesus and John Shelby lay dying on the stones, John grabbed her hand and held it tightly. 

In the end, John watched his sister die before him. 

[dany-is-my-queen]

Born To Be Yours | Part VIII

Sansa Stark x Fem! Baratheon! Reader (Daenerys Targaryen x Fem! Baratheon! Reader eventually)

Season 1-8

Word Count: 2,165

Note: Leave your thoughts please! 💛

Pt.1 Pt.2 Pt.3 Pt.4 Pt.5 Pt.6 Pt.7 Pt.9

“I don’t want to leave King’s Landing! What about you and Tommen? No one can separate us! Please Y/N, I don’t want to go to Dorne.” Myrcella was weeping holding you tight by the waist.

“You’ll be safer in Dorne, little one. It’s dangerous if you stay. I promise you I’ll visit Sunspear as soon as I can. They will give you a warm welcome. Nothing bad is going to happen, okay?” You keep saying to ease her worries. She’ll be just fine, you thought.

“I’m going to miss you.”

“You are my sister. We’ll be in each other’s hearts till the end of time.” You wiped her tears.

“Princess Y/N, Princess Myrcella.” Sansa greeted you. Another two courtiers arrived to be with her.

“Lady Sansa, I love your dress! Did you make it yourself?” Myr announced.

“Yes, princess.” She chuckled.

“You should teach me how to do this beautiful stitching. Sadly we don’t have the time.”

“I’ll send you a golden gown as a present on your nameday” She grinned and went off to play hide & seek with the ladies. “You are going to miss your sister.” Sansa said.

“A lot. But I know it has a purpose. She’s strong.” You nodded.

“Just like you. I miss Arya. We had a complicated relation, she was always so annoying and I was a brat. I should have cherished the moments we had together. She’s out there all alone.” With a sad voice she spoke.

“We will find her.”

“May I ask you something?” She doubtfully inquired.

“Anything.”

“You don’t like to be around Joffrey?”

“No. And I’m glad he hardly ever request my presence. We had a messy childhood. I’ve been closer to my siblings since they were born. They brought light to my life. There’s nothing in this world I wouldn’t do for them.”

“I admire you, Y/N.” You smiled.

“Lady Sansa, do you fancy poetry?”

“I do! It’s very romantic.”

“Well, I’m happy to hear that. I made you a poem... you inspired me. Here it goes...

Big vivid blue eyes

Gentler than the ocean sea

Long silky auburn locks

Warmer than a sunset

This a lady, a lady who will own the world.”

You created it the very first day you meet her, of course, you wouldn’t recite it to her when you barely knew each other. It was way too short but it meant something.

“Woah... Y/N I’m speechless. You are so sweet. I don’t deserve a friend like you.” Right, friend.

“Of course you do.” You said. She kissed your cheek the same way you kissed hers the other night. Swiftly and subtly. Gods it felt so good. If anyone was watching they could see how blushed you two were.

“May I ask specifically what the King has in mind?” Tyrion was weary of his sister’s stubbornness.

“You may, specifically, or you may ask vaguely. The answer will be the same.” She nonchalant answered.

“It’s important we talk about this.” He insisted.

“It’s the King’s royal prerogative to withhold sensitive information from his councilors.” Cersei was looking from the balcony to the gardens the longing stare Sansa had on you. You watched with a heavy heart over the younger princess so you weren’t paying much attention. The Queen Regent didn’t like the idea of that kind of closeness between you both. She didn’t suspect anything either, not more than devotion the northern lady held for Y/N. Still, it bothered her you always stood up for her. “That whore should stay away from my daughter.” She declared.

“Why? It seems they get along pretty well, your son loves to torture her. She found someone who treats her right. I don’t quite understand the reason you’re mad about it.”

“She’s poisoning her. Manipulating her. Y/N is so naive. That girl thinks she has her under her claws at her disposition.”

“What you are saying doesn’t make any sense. They are just girls. What harm can they do to each other?

“Will you send her away as well? Maybe you should have considered Y/N instead of Myrcella.”

“You haven’t changed a bit. Still so bitter and distant with Y/N. She knows how to fight, how to defend herself. She’s brave. Just like her father Robert Baratheon was. Only three of your four children are sane. But I’m really curious about this... how can you put one of them above the other? Being so hurtful with your actions and your words, Y/N experienced that. Where were you when she needed you the most?”

“Don’t be ridiculous. Of course I love her. In my own way. She’s my blood, and for good or for bad, blood is for life.” Tyrion let out a tired sighed of disbelief. Then he left.

“My friend...” Varys approached you.

“What news, Lord Varys?”

“Your uncle Renly. He’s dead.”

“How?”

“He was stabbed in the heart. Some say it was Lady Catelyn Stark, his own Kingsguard, and others Stannis Baratheon himself. We don’t know for sure.” You knew this was a high possibility due to the quarrel between Stannis and Renly, though it was soon you were pretty sad about the fact he’s gone. He was always good to you.

It was the day Myrcella was leaving home to be in an unknown place. She was terrified, truth be told you were too but you had to remain strong and positive.

“My lioness, I’m sure the next time we see each other you’ll be even more beautiful. Five years, twenty years, we’ll always be the same.” You were trusting Dorne to take care of her.

“Just a bit older. Who is going to stay with me when I have a nightmare or when-“

“As father told me, don’t be scared even in the face of danger. You will never be alone. I love you.” You kissed her forehead bidding her goodbye.

“Promise you will never forget about me Y/N.”

“I promise.”

“May the seven guide the princess on her journey...”

Tommen was sobbing, the septa cleaned his face. You held him whispering she was going to be safe and soon enough you’ll be seeing her again.

“You sound like a cat meowing for his mother. Princes don’t cry.” Joffrey hissed with his arms folded. You were to busy comforting your baby brother to pay him any attention.

“I saw you cry.” Sansa blunted out.

“Did you say something, my lady?” He turned to her.

“My little brother cried when I left Winterfell.”

“So?”

“It seems a normal thing.”

“Is your little brother a prince?”

“No?”

“Not really relevant, isn’t it?” He irritably replied.

“Some people care for their siblings, you don’t care for any of us. That’s why you are so stone-hearted about it.” You kept looking at Myrcella almost gone boat. He gave you a withering look before walking. Sansa was emotionless, perhaps because of her younger brothers, Bran and Rickon. Hopefully, they were alright.

“Come, dog.”

You followed the guards. In the hall, a crowd started to yell things at the King. Tommen was taken back to the Keep while your mother and you stayed close to each other, she held your hand.

“Hail to the King!”

“Murderer! Bastard!”

“Please your grace, we are hungry!”

Suddenly a piece of cow excrement was thrown to his arrogant face. “Who threw that? I want the man who threw that! Find him and bring him to me! Kill them! Kill them all!” Sansa handmaidens were keeping her close. The Lannister guardsmen shielded you and Cersei while the folk tried to get to your eldest brother. They were rioting, it was chaos.

“Move, move!” Tyrion ducked his head. You tried to follow the tall girl but she left your sight.

You entered a big gate to safety. “Where’s the Stark girl?” Tyrion shouted.

“Let them have her!” Joffrey furiously screamed.

Wasting no time you ran to the exit not caring about the riot happening outside.

You entered a short corridor, almost tripping by your feet. When you found her she was on the ground with her clothes ripped off, crying while trying to break free from the man’s grip.

“Have you ever been fucked?” You heard the disgusting person say.

“Take your hands off her!” You pushed one of them and hit him. The other flee and the last punched you in the stomach and then slapped you. The northerner was terrified. In that precise moment, before you kept fighting, The Hound arrived and spun the leader down, then disemboweled him, the second begged for mercy, resulting in him cutting his throat. He first offered to help you what you refused so he could carry the Stark girl. She was in shock.

Now you were in the gated area. You heavily sighed. “The Princess is hurt! So is the little bird.”

“Thank you, Sandor.” He nodded.

“Y/N! Are you alright? Did the assailants do something to you?” Tyrion worriedly asked you.

“No, no I’m fine.” You shook your head, trying to catch your breath.

“That was stupid.”

“Well, Joffrey is a slow thinker.”

“Your mother is going to be so angry about this.”

“I don’t care, uncle. You know it.” You smiled at him and he shook his head in disapprove. “My lady. They will take you back to the Red Keep. I will personally treat your wounds okay?”

“You already have done too much, my princess. I-“

“Please.” She nodded. “I’ll be with you in a few moments.”

You entered Cersei’s chambers, she was expecting you. Both hands on her waist. “What the hell were you thinking?! Are you an idiot? I’ve sent one of my daughters away and now the other is almost raped and killed the same day!” She was all hysterical.

“Mother, your son wasn’t deciding. Someone had to. Without Lady Sansa we’ll never see Jaime again. I’m the only person who cares for the innocent people? I wouldn’t let them hurt her.” You fought back.

“She is not worth risking your life for. You are trying to follow your father to the grave! It’s not about honor. It’s about your safety. I can’t lose you, Y/N.” She argued.

“You won’t.” You walked out leaving her with a mad expression.

“She was so brave Shae! She came to my aid when I thought those people were going to hurt me. She’s so fearless.”

“It was a very silly act. Things could have gotten worse.”

“But they didn’t. Sandor also helped. But Y/N,s boldness is remarkable.” Shae peered at her knowing what Sansa really meant.

You knocked on the redhead door. “I hope it’s not too late. My mother kept talking, I couldn’t wiggle my way out.” You excused yourself.

“Come in. I was waiting for you. Shae insisted on do it herself.”

“Princess. My lady.”

“Goodnight, Shae. She’s in good hands.” She gave you a little smile.

“Did you have supper already?”

“Yes, I took a quick bath too.” Sansa gestured you to sit down.

“I see. Your hair is still wet.” You quipped.

“You saved me. Again.” She began.

“Actually, Sandor saved us. I’m glad I arrived in time.”

“I thought they were going to kill me.”

“I wouldn’t let them. I won’t let anyone touches you ever again. I’m sorry. It must have been very frightening to you.”

“It was. You rescued me. I’m so grateful, Y/N. But your life is way more important than mine. Stop doing it.”

“I’ve heard that before.” You took the kerchief smearing in it some ointment.

“I’m serious. You are very brave. I don’t want you to get seriously injured because of me.” She insisted, more serious this time.

“I wouldn’t blame you. No harm will come to you while I’m around. I mean it. What I wouldn’t do to save you?”

“You are so stubborn. I would have given them bread if I had it. I hate the King more than any of them.”

“I know you would and I know you do, we share the same feeling about him.”

“Oh, gods! I’m a fool! I didn’t notice until now that you are also hurt.” She concernedly acknowledged.

“It doesn’t matter.” You brushed it off.

“Of course it does.”

“You first.” With the fabric, you began to swab her eyebrow cut.

“Auch.”

“It’s not deep. Does it hurt?”

“A little. What about yours?” She carefully touched your lower lip with her thumb.

“It’s just a scratch.”

“Let me clean it.” You found her eyes staring at your lips.

“The-the cut will disappear soon.” She stuttered.

“I won’t.” She looked up yo meet your eyes.

“What?”

“I won’t stop risking my life to keep you safe.” Not only you were doing this for the promise you made to Lady Catelyn, or because it was the right thing to do, not even for honor or recognition, but because you were falling harder and harder for her, you were deeply in love with the she-wolf.

[guardianofjunmyeon]

Finding Atlantis (part 6)

Pairing: Baekhyun x Reader

Genre: Action/Adventure, Enemies to Lovers, PirateAU

Description:   20 years ago the seas became angry. Unruly and unkind to any sailor,  to  any ship that dared venture too far out in her waters. Many a man  has  heard the tales of Atlantis, the lost city, the key the ocean. But  fewer  men know the tale of it’s missing child. The key to the ocean,  the key  to Atlantis but a lost little one. The power one would hold  should they  find this child would be nearly that of Poseidon himself.  Thus, the hunt  began.    

A/N: I meant to update last week but my VPN wasn’t working! I couldn’t access tumblr bc it’s blocked here in china but i finally got it fixed lol. This one is long! WARNING(s): Smut + Character Death (??)

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10, Part 11, Part 12, Part 13, Part 14, Part 15, Part 16, Part 17, Part 18

After hours of discussion and blindly heading southeast, you all were finally able to somewhat crack the code of the rhyme and the map.

“Follow the sound of your soul, she’ll call out to you to bring you back to your shoal. That’s clearly about the Atlantis return song. It’s the most important part of all of this. If we don’t get a better handle of when it appears and when it doesn’t we won’t get through the rest of the trails.”

“Trials?”

“Yes, there are three different trials masked in the lyrics of the song. The way back isn’t easy. If you leave Atlantis, you have to prove that you truly want to return,” Yeri replies.

You squint at the map now covered in writing.

“She’ll fight you to prove that your heart is true, to crush you and build you back stronger in her darkest shade of blue,” Sehun reads. “It’s about a storm. A very big one by the sound of it.” He points to an area of the map with nothing but water. “You see this area? It’s known for its unruly currents and unnatural weather patterns. It ranges from snow to thunderstorms large enough to wipe out entire islands.”

Junmyeon grazes his fingers over the map, passing the spot Sehun mentioned and further southeast. “Beautiful songs will call out to confuse the path, to distract you, but remembering your heart will get you through…if we continue beyond the location of the storm we’ll be set to approach Isla de Sirena within a week.”

“Shit,” Baekhyun murmurs.

Yeri looks on in confusion. “Why shit?”

“Isla de Sirena is an island known for luring ships underwater. They crash ships among the rocks with song. They appear as the most beautiful creature that you can imagine; whatever you subconsciously find the most alluring. I don’t know how they do it. Different people can look at the same one and see different things; they trick you that way. Mermaids…sirens, whatever you want to call them. Freaky little bitches.”

“Baekhyun,” Junmyeon admonishes.

“What? They are!”

“So we’ve got to face…beautiful singing women? Oh no the horror,” you gasp jokingly.

Baekhyun pinches the bridge of his nose. “You are so horny, and so stupid all the fucking time.”

“You’re one to fucking talk-”

“Children!” Junmyeon scolds. “Can we please hold off on the flirting until this is over?”

“We aren’t flirting-”

“Anyway!” You and Baekhyun close your mouths in embarrassment. “We’ve gone near Isla de Sirena, once,” Sehun adds grimly, eyebrows pitching angrily. “If you’re able to ignore their voices then you can see them for they are. They’re the ugliest creatures I’ve ever seen in my life.” He shivers.

“So what’s the final trial?” Baekhyun asks, back to contributing to the conversation and not being a pain in your ass.

“She’ll finally take you in her arms again, cradled and safe where all life began…” Yeri reads. A sigh. “We aren’t completely sure. It’s something about a rebirth?”

You scratch your chin.

“Maybe it’s about being drowned.”

Everyone turns their eyes to you.

“What?” you ask; your wide eyes look back at everyone staring at you as if you said something crazy. You point to the map in the general area where you think you all may end up. “There’s no land anywhere near here, and the city is underwater. Born from water, taken away from water, and then reclaimed by the water. If you leave, you must be drowned and reborn into an Atlantian again right? Why else would you forget your memories and connection to the sea the longer you’re away?”

“You are reborn in the place where life began…” Baekhyun mumbles. “You might be right. The final trial is a drowning of some kind. There’s a reason only Atlantian’s are the only people who can reach the city.” Baekhyun smacks you on the shoulder. “You’re not completely useless!”

You frown and hold your shoulder.

Bastard.

~~~

Candles cover the deck of the ship as the sun sets on the horizon. You watch somberly as each member of your crew places an object that reminds them of Taemin, of Amber, of Kun, and of Jaehyun in each of the four caskets meant to sail them to the other side.

Their bodies are wrapped in cloth to save everyone the trauma of facing their decomposing faces. Flowers, candies, articles of clothes surround each body with the things that made them who they were in life.

And will hopefully comfort them in the land of death.

Your most artistically inclined deckhand, Ten, places a portrait of each of them in their respective boat. An image to match the body.

“Jaehyun was always smiling; he worked hard as a gunner. He’d hoped one day to be master gunner of the ship.” Mark stands over the casket. “He uh, he never said much but he had the most imaginative mind of any person I ever met,” he says with a sad smile. “When the cannon backfired and killed him, it was quick, so at least he didn’t suffer for long. Farewell friend. I’ll see you on the other side.”

Luna takes over where Mark left off, standing in front of Amber’s casket. “I’ve known Amber since we were kids. She was a strange one,” she laughs. “She was very head strong and opinionated even when she was wrong. We both knew that working in the artillery was going to be rough, that it would be dangerous, but I know that she loved this job more than anything. She had a family with us, and she died where she would have wanted, I think.” Tears fill her eyes as she sits back down in the circle of crewmen.

“Kun…was like an older brother to me. He would tell me that I was getting on his nerves, but he would always take care of me…uh…take care of all of us in the best way he could. Every meal he served, every wound he healed, was done with care. Unfortunately, sickness isn’t as kind. He tended to Taemin with his last breath, tried to heal with all he had until he had nothing else to give. I’m going to miss him and his cheesy magic tricks.” Ten takes in a deep breath to keep his voice from wavering. “I hope he’s taken care of with as much love as he gave us.”

You can hear people holding back their tears. Sniffles and soft sobs escaping into the air every few seconds.

This time you stand as the representative to send off Taemin. You avoid everyone’s eyes and focus your gaze on his wrapped body and the trinkets around him. “Taemin was one of my earliest crewmen. I may have owned the ship, but Taemin was the one who knew best how she moved. He piloted with a grace and confidence I have still yet to achieve. I don’t have a single doubt that he’ll be able to guide himself to the other side without issue. He had a natural skill for movement.” You focus on an object nestled snuggly at his side. “I just hope he doesn't lose any of the things we’re sending with him the way he always loses his money pouches.” You manage a smile.

A couple of people chuckle softly, sadly.

“As Captain of the Storm Chaser, I release the four of you from duty.” You raise your gun in the air. “I couldn’t have asked for braver, hardworking, and loyal men.” You fire a single shot into the air.

It rings through the night.

Everyone stands, begins to close the wooden coffins, and Junmyeon soaks them in gunpowder and oil.

You watch the coffins get lowered into the water one by one. As they begin to float away, you, Mark, Luna, and Ten line up along the edge of the ship.

“Ready,” you all cock your guns. “Aim.”

“Fire.”

The coffins alight with flames. Yixing lights a single firework and it shoots into the air and covers the sky in bright yellow sparks.

May these lights guide them on their future paths.

No one moves until the coffins are far out of sight, their flames no longer visible. Until nothing but darkness rests in the distance. With heavy eyes, and heavier hearts, you all pull away from the railing.

Those who were close to the ones sent away cry openly and you allow everyone the rest of the night to rest and mourn as they see fit. Crying, shaking, screaming.

People cope in different ways.

As everyone disperses below deck you see Yixing rubbing Jongin’s back as the two of them cry clinging tightly to the other.

You know that Yixing grew up with Taemin. Yixing had been the one to recommend him for the crew because of their shared history. Knowing now that Yixing knew Jongin at the same time, you realize that Jongin must have known Taemin closely as well.

Leaving them to console one another, you walk away.

The stories of their deaths, of their lives, makes your heart a bit less heavy. Knowing that they died doing what they wanted, and not because life was stolen from them in situations counter to their personality eases a bit of the pain.

Minutely.

It still hurts, but the anger is no longer there. Just sadness.

This is the life of pirates after all.

Junmyeon has hidden himself away somewhere on the ship, as he always does when he wants to cry without being found, so you make your way towards the food storage for a drink. You need it after today.

People cope in different ways.

The stairs creak as you descend. One of the lanterns is already on, bright near the liquor storage. It shouldn’t surprise you. You wouldn’t be the only person who wants to drink to numb a bit of the pain.

What does surprise you is who you find hunched over with his face in his hands.

“Baekhyun?”

His head lifts and you immediately take notice of the red in his visible eye and face in the dim lighting. He seems alarmed to have been caught. He looks away in shame.

You sit down in front of him.

The bottle of whiskey at his side is half empty; you reach for it and take a sip.

For your men.

Silence shrouds you both.

You feel the need to speak. To clear the air. Whether you are doing it for him or for yourself you aren’t sure. “No one blames you, you know,” you say so softly that it almost blends into the silence. You hope he doesn’t hear.

But of course he does.

He looks over with anger. “I never said it was my fault.”

“You didn’t have to. You’re down here drinking alone after a funeral. This screams ‘this is all my fault’ you emo fucker.”

He snatches the bottle from your hands.

“Look, okay. No one thinks it’s your fault. You heard the stories. Yeah, you guys shot my ship, but their deaths weren’t directly a result of that. Things went wrong; I will accept that it was just a shot to immobilize us. If any of us thought you a murderer, in this case, we would have hung you by your neck long ago.” You forcefully grab the bottle back with a frown. “There’s plenty of other shit for you to feel guilty over. Like the time you shot me…or stabbed me…or left me on that island for dead.”

“I swear to the Gods-”

“The point is…this one isn’t on you. You don’t need to carry this guilt. Not this time.” You take a quick drink. “If however,” you point your finger at him menacingly, “this was on purpose, then I take all that back and I will kill you right fucking here I swear to the Gods.”

The bottle is taken back. “It wasn’t,” he admits, softly, angry. A swig. “It wasn’t on purpose,” he says again tiredly.

His honesty takes you by surprise. Baekhyun has killed just as many people as you have in your life. If he had tried to kill them, well that would be expected. But for him to be this affected by the accidental deaths? That’s surprising.

“What are you doing down here anyway?” he asks.

“Do you really think you’re the only person on this ship who hides down here drinking? You’re talking to the master!” you boast. “And it’s my ship you ungrateful wrench.” You finish off what’s left of the whiskey and reach for a bottle of golden rum tucked securely on a shelf. Uncorking it with your teeth, you hold it in the air between you. “To Taemin, Kun, Amber, and Jaehyun!”

It burns like hell itself going down.

You hold it out for Baekhyun with an expectant eyebrow raise. You wait.

He grabs it gently. “To Taemin, Kun, Amber, and Jaehyun,” he repeats in a murmur. He makes a noise of pain as the alcohol burns its way down his throat. “What the fuck is this?”

You shiver as the alcohol settles uncomfortably in your stomach. “It's the bad rum I think.” You cough violently. “Oh fuck I think I’m going to die,” you say clutching your stomach.

His wild laugh echoes in the dark space. A bit of the gloom lifts.

You let your hands fall from your stomach while you take in the relaxed happiness on his candlelit face. His eye crinkled in a crescent, shining with mirth. You don’t think you’ve seen him laugh like that since the first time you met him.

He’s pretty. You’d have to be stupid not to admit it. From his soft and shiny hair, to his cheeks that bunch up when he smiles. From his big dumb ears to all of the little moles that dot his body.

The bottle goes back up to his ridiculously pink lips and he laughs as it hurts his throat just as bad as the first sip.

All it takes is a second of thoughtless, drunken courage for you to lean forward and quickly press your lips against his, cutting off his giggles.

When you pull pack, the happiness on his face has made way for shock and then once more to nothing.

“Don’t kiss me,” he says tonelessly. His voice is serious, but you see the spark of challenge in his eye.

Ignoring the part of you that always tells you that jumping headfirst into him is a bad idea, you lean in again, slower. You brace your hands on his thighs and feel them tense beneath your palms. He stares at your lips and you watch enrapt as his tongue pokes out to wet his bottom lip.

You can feel your skin vibrating from the proximity to him, and you freeze; a breath away from meeting skin with skin. Your eyes glance up to meet his and you can see the want, the restlessness, and something else you can’t quite place in the dark.

As if waiting any longer would be torturous, he leans forward impatiently to press his lips against yours. The bottle of rum falls to the ground and spills onto the floorboards of the storage room.

You don’t care.

You push harder; open your mouth to let his tongue slide against yours in a way that sends tingles through every nerve in your body. Maybe it’s the alcohol, maybe it’s the touch of sadness, but something feels different about this time.

You crawl onto his lap, driven purely by instinct and press every inch of your body against his. Heat seeps through your clothes and you pant longingly as he pulls you closer by your neck, his other hand grabbing you roughly by your ass. A wanton moan escapes your mouth and he pulls you closer, rougher. Breaths puff into each other’s mouths as you messily connect your lips over and over again. It’s uncoordinated. It’s wet. It’s exactly what you need.

You thread your fingers in his hair and yank his head back; diving to lick and suck along the column of his neck, to the sensitive spot behind his ear that you know drives him crazy. His grip on your body tightens as he releases a shaky groan and rolls his hips up against yours. Anticipation thrums through your body. To every noise, to every touch your body responds in earnest.

This is nothing but a distraction. For you. For the both of you, you don’t care. Neither of you have to think as clothes are removed. The sadness can be ignored as you claw against his skin and coax his tongue into your mouth. It’s all movement. All feeling. All lust.

People cope in different ways.

It always happens like this. You argue. You fight. You threaten each other. You fuck until you’re both exhausted and too tired to care about the years of hatred between you. For these few moments all you are, are bodies. Bodies moving in tandem, kissing the right places, touching the right spots, connecting at the right angle. Like this things are easy, wordless.

You each just understand how the other works.

Every movement is matched in urgency, in desperation. Touch for touch. Kiss for kiss. Sound for sound. Push for pull. Gasps, moans, whimpers are muted as best you can in the quiet of the storage. You don’t realize that you’re subconsciously avoiding aggravating the stitches that lie there, still fresh, in his side as your hands leave burning paths along his skin.

Just for now, you can allow yourselves to feel that maybe you don’t hate each other as much as you let on.

~~~

“Get your own fucking telescope!”

“Where am I going to get one? We’re in the middle of the god forsaken ocean; do you expect me to pull it out of my ass?”

“You should have brought yours with you if you wanted to use one so bad! That doesn’t give you permission to just take my shit whenever you feel like it. You aren’t Captain here.”

“Oh, bite me.”

“I’ll do worse than that. Seulgi, get me my pistol.”

“Captain I don’t think-”

“You think you’re going to shoot me? Chanyeol where’s my gun?!”

“I’m gonna shoot you right in your last fucking working eye you dirty fucking son of a-”

A hand covers your mouth before you can finish your curse. “Baekhyun, you’re needed in the kitchen. Kyungsoo is asking for you.” You and Baekhyun share one last deadly glare before he stalks off and you’re released.

“What the hell Minseok?” You turn on your gunner, anger from your argument with Baekhyun being projected instead onto him. It has to go somewhere.

He crosses his arms over his chest, unbothered.

“So you’re in love with him right? That's why you’re acting like this?”

Your eyes bulge out of your skull. “I’m sorry, what did you just ask me?”

He sighs, grabs you by your arm and drags you all the way to the infirmary. You’re forced to sit down stupefied as Minseok stares at you expectantly. “The two of you are exhausting to watch. If you weren’t two of our most capable men we would have tied you both up and put you in the brig until we found Atlantis days ago,” he says evenly.

You scoff, mouth agape.

“I would tell you to fuck and move on, but seeing as that seems to be what triggers a fresh round of arguments, I’m going to ask that you two refrain from ever having sex on the ship again in the future.”

You splutter embarrassed. Your skin heats at having been called out so boldly. “W-what?! How- Wh- How’d you find out?”

“Any time the two of you have sex, you spend the next month or so telling all of us how much you hate him, how you’re going to kill him, blah blah blah. After a while you stop being as vocal about it, but then we make port, usually at Arae, and he happens to be there, then BAM we're back where we started. You’re obsessed with each other.”

You flush. “We are not,” you try to deny. His face is unimpressed. “I don't know where you got the idea that either of us feel anything but pure hatred for the other. Okay yeah, we’ve had sex a couple of times. So what? It doesn’t mean anything. I’ve had sex with half of Arae.” You cross your arms defiantly.

“As soon as this is all over, we’ll part ways...in 6 months we’ll go to Arae for a bit, as we always do, you’ll have ‘angry hate sex’ yet again and then spend the next month being pissy over his existence. No one who genuinely hates someone spends so much time a) around them willingly and b) obsessing over them when they aren’t around,” Minseok says matter-of-factly. “I think you should both admit you’re in love with each other so we can all move on.”

“Minseok!”

“I agree,” Jongin’s head pops up from behind the singular bed in the room.

“What are you doing here?” you ask, heat again filling your cheeks at the extra witness to this interrogation.

“I work here?”

“I mean hiding behind the bed!”

“Oh…I uh tripped and then the door opened and you guys started talking and I was too afraid to get up and interrupt,” he says quickly.

You squint in judgment.

“This whole…” Minseok waves his hand around as he searches for the word, “…archenemies thing is getting old, Captain. If you really wanted to kill him, you would have done it already. And I’m sure the same goes for Byun. Right Jongin?” he turns to face the younger.

“Yeah,” Jongin agrees with a shrug.

You can’t believe your ears. “He just…hasn’t done anything worth actually killing him over yet. He’s useful sometimes…for information…” you murmur lamely. The excuse is weak even to you.

“You are both dumb and annoying…and also super transparent. Whenever you injure the other, it’s always in a place that won’t kill or do permanent damage. Don’t act like it’s just been luck that you’ve both managed to miss any kind of serious blow from the other. You’re both deadly fighters, you know how to kill someone if you want them dead.”

“He ditched me in cuffs on that island-”

“You had the key to the cuffs,” Jongin chimes in unhelpfully.

Minseok rolls his eyes at your words. “Yes, and again, in a survivable situation. Was there not food and shit on that island?”

You open and close your mouth pathetically.

“Exactly. It’s not like you’re an incompetent dumbass. You would be able to find your way off even if you hadn’t been found. He didn’t blow the ship to bits like he could have a month ago, you haven’t slit his throat like you could have many months ago. You both dance around injuring each other, making the other’s life difficult, and fucking. You’re in love, please just accept it. I don’t care if you’re into BDSM and blood play or whatever freaky shit gets you guys off, but I would at least appreciate it if you kept it in your bedroom.”

Jongin nods from the back. “I just think it’s obvious,” he adds simply.

“Pff…Psh…Tch…I’m-I am appalled that you would talk to your Captain like this.”

“I know, I know. You could have us hanged, shot, thrown in the ocean, whatever…but the fact of the matter is that you aren’t going to do any of that, and you know that we’re right. Now, I’m going to go make sure Chanyeol hasn’t shot any of my men with any of my valuable pistols, and I’ll leave you to your duties, Captain.” Minseok nods his head with finality and exits the room.

Mutineer…

You glare at Jongin for ganging up on you. He flushes timidly. “I’m uh…gonna go see if Kyungsoo needs any help…Captain.” With a nervous smile he dashes from the room.

This is mutiny…

~~~

The ship sails southeast for days before anything alerts you all of the impeding first trial. The weather is normal, the water is normal, and then all of a sudden, the winds become violent.

“Captain, I think we’re getting close to whatever the first test is…” Yixing says tremulously.

The wind whips around you and the sails of the ship flap violently. There’s no way to tell which way the wind is blowing from as it whips from what feels like every side simultaneously. The ship tilts dangerously to one side.

“Junmyeon…that song telling you anything right about now?” You ask anxiously.

Your first mate looks out on the horizon with worried eyes. “We’re going the right way…” is all he says.

“Helpful,” Yixing murmurs sarcastically.

There is no visible sign of a storm; nothing seems out of the ordinary outside of the unnatural winds. The crew is already reefing your regular sails and raising the storm jib and trysail. If the winds get any stronger, which they will, they’ll catch your regular sails and capsize your ship before the waves even begin to hit.

“Who can man the helm? Who’s the best pilot on board right now?” you ask Yixing.

Yixing looks around a bit panicked. “I don’t know… I don’t know Captain.” The ship lurches to the side.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck…” you scan the ship. Most of the men are working on preparing the proper sails, securing any moving parts, and making sure the wind alone won’t turn the ship on her side. You see Baekhyun working with Wendy on securing lose lines. You haven’t talked to him since your lecture from Minseok all those days ago. “Junmyeon, go check to make sure we have enough ballast in the hold. We’re going to be rocking and we need to pray that we have enough weight to keep us as stable as possible.”

He rushes away; you try to think of what else you can do to prepare. There’s no way to tell how long this storm is going to last, how bad it’s going to be, and you would rather prepare for the worst.

A sea anchor.

“Johnny!” The boatswain is immediately at your side. “Take whoever you need and deploy the sea anchor. We should have one somewhere in the hold. I need you to work fast, but be thorough.”

The ship is going to have to sail against the wind and against the waves. The wind will push the ship off course, but to survive a storm like this the ship needs to keep its bow to the waves. If a wave catches the ship on her side or back, there’s no chance for survival. You’ll have to use your sea anchor and just pray that the Gods are feeling merciful.

“Baekhyun!” you shout. He turns immediately at the sound of your voice. “How good are you at the wheel?”

“I’m decent.”

“How’s your tracking? Your jibbing? Can you keep the ship from capsizing in this storm?”

He looks up in the sky when the sound of thunder shakes the floorboards. “My jibbing isn't the best, but I think I can keep her afloat,” he promises.

The feeling of static fills the air. The hair on your body rises to attention. Another rumble of thunder rolls across the ocean, louder than before. The sky is darker than it was 5 minutes ago.

There isn’t much longer until the storm hits.

“I need you at the wheel. I’m trusting my ship to you. Don’t let me down.” With a determined nod, Baekhyun is off. You see your first strike of lighting. Bright blue and not far off.

Chanyeol runs up to you to assure you that all of the cannons, ammunition, and artillery are properly secured. “Tell Minseok to get all his men below deck in the storm rooms. Secure any hatch and pray to the Gods that we make it through this,” you instruct. He nods and runs off.

When a storm hits, it hurts more than it helps to have people above deck. Three people would do the job just as well as all 20. Half of weathering a storm is the training and skill of the crew; and the other half is just pure luck.

The beginning patters of rain begin to pelt the ship. You run back up to the helm where Baekhyun has stationed himself.

The ocean gets choppy, picks up ferocity. The ship leans starboard. Baekhyun has never steered your ship, and truthfully, you have no idea whether or not he can actually steer through a storm. You’ve never seen him at the wheel of any ship in all the years you’ve known him.

“Do you think we’ll make it through this?” you ask.

“Honestly…I don’t know,” he admits. “We have enough sea room; we won’t crash into anything this far out. I just hope we can pick up enough speed before the waves start to grow.”

Junmyeon reappears, with Kyungsoo at his side, both out of breath. “We’ve prepared all that we can. The sea anchor is deployed, we’ve got a decent amount of ballast, the jib is ready to be backwinded, and the crew is all prepared for the rocking. What’s the plan?”

“Heaving to,” Baekhyun says simply. He swipes at his bangs, heavy with water and clinging to this forehead. “We keep the bow to the waves, keep close to the wind, and then lock the helm in place.”

“Won’t we broadside?!”

“No, if we were to lie ahull, we would broadside,” Kyungsoo supplies, blocking his eyes from the rain picking up in ferocity. “By heaving to, we can keep the ship from going parallel to the waves and capsizing. We’ll have to stay above deck to correct it if the wind or waves suddenly change. Since you’ve got a sea anchor we’ve got more chance of keeping the ship sailing straight into the waves rather than along them.”

“If heaving to doesn’t work, we try to run off downwind. As the wind increases we’ll have to slow down the ship as much as we can so that we don’t dive straight into the wave in front of us.” A bolt of lightning hits the waves. The rain gets harder.

“We would die…” You say unhelpfully. Lighting blasts in front of you and the waves crash angrily against the ship’s sides.

“Exactly. So if we run off, we’re going to need more than the four of us to throw whatever heavy lines you have off the stern,” Baekhyun’s voice rises to be heard over the increasingly loud winds and waves.

“As a last result, we’ll lie ahull and just fucking pray that when we capsize the ship holds for long enough to keep all of us alive,” Kyungsoo shouts.

You exhale shakily as another three bolts of lightning flash across the sky.

Poseidon be kind to us all.

You leave Baekhyun with the job of steering the ship against the waves that grow in size and power by the second.

At Kyungsoo’s instruction, Junmyeon is in charge of keeping the jib backwinded, and you reef the trysail as soon as it becomes clear that it’s going to be a hindrance in the grand scheme of things. Kyungsoo stands at Baekhyun’s side correcting course when he gets thrown off balance. Baekhyun does the same as Kyungsoo is knocked to the side in turn.

The waves become brutal, rocking the ship so hard that it’s nearly impossible to keep on your feet for more than 10 seconds at a time.

The wind finally sets in a single direction, fiercer than anything you’ve faced, and the general direction of the waves becomes apparent. The ship rocks violently from side to side and then immediately forward and back. You’re thrown into the foremast by the unexpected direction change with enough force to knock the wind out of your body. You gasp in pain. You get up on wobbling legs and try to breathe even as the water falls so fast and heavy around you that it feels equivalent to drowning.

You can’t see more than two feet ahead of yourself.

Think. Think.

There is rope at your feet, secured to the mainmast of the ship. You untie it with cold, wet fingers and hold it tight as you walk to the helm. The ship crashes into another large wave and you fall to your knees as water washes over the bow of the hull, covers the deck in freezing water and pitches the ship forwards. You stand up, shivering but determined. You tie the rope around your own waist to help you keep note of where you’ve come from.

Getting to the helm is a challenge, but you make it. Junmyeon is helping Baekhyun and Kyungsoo lock it in place.

“We should head below deck!” You shout as loud as you can. Thunder and lightning work in tandem to drown out your voice. To remind you of who is louder. Who has more power. You’re soaked to the bone.

Each man above deck is in a similar state. “We’re going below deck!” Junmyeon shouts. “We think heaving to may work.” The ship lurches dangerously to the right.

“Quick! Let’s go,” Kyungsoo screams, hair clinging to his forehead in inky black tendrils.

You use the rope to guide you. It feels as though you’re swimming through the air with the amount of resistance the winds and rain are putting up. Kyungsoo makes it to the hatch that leads below first. You follow behind, climbing down the ladder with shaking limbs. Water leaks through the boards, but it’s a welcome change from the brutality of facing Mother Nature directly.

You gasp for breath, finally able to breathe without also inhaling water, and look around the space for the ship’s emergency supplies. The ship dips, your stomach lurches.

Freezing water streams into the room from the open hatch above. You realize belatedly that there are only two of you in the compartment. Baekhyun and Junmyeon haven’t made it down.

You’re thrown to the ground when the ship dips without warning.

Clattering catches your attention as Junmyeon is swept into the room with a fresh rush of water. “Baekhyun fell overboard!” Junmyeon screams. He crashes against the ground. The sky screams.

What?

Kyungsoo turns away from opening the hatch down to a lower level of the ship to gape at Junmyeon’s words in horror.

Gasping, soaked, Junmyeon looks around the compartment frantically.

You’re moving before you have a chance to think.

You vaguely hear your name being called out from behind, but you don’t turn around. Rope still secured around your waist, you run, slip, stumble, over to the closest life boat. As fast as your shaking hands can work, you cut yourself free of the mainmast and tie the end of the rope not tied to your body to the dinghy.

You slice through the thick ropes holding the dinghy to the side of the ship with an urgency you’ve never felt. Water hits you head on, chilling you to the bone.

The final rope snaps and you and the dighy fall into the water with the force of landing on cement. Something is broken, but your adrenaline is pumping so violently that you can’t feel the pain. It doesn’t register.

Doesn’t matter.

You look around frenzied. The water is pitch black and moving too fast. The rain pelts your skin. It stings, burns, blurs your vision.

The waves are too big for him to survive out here on his own.

They’re too big for you to survive in your search for him.

The sky roars.

The waves crash, flip your boat once, twice.

You settle upright for the second time when, by the grace of the Gods, you see his white shirt illuminated against the dark water by a strike of lightning. You row frantically as a wave begins to swell. You nearly scream in relief when you reach him, but the sound dies as your heart sinks.

He’s not moving.

And he’s face down.

With all the energy you can muster, you pull him into your little boat. You take a few seconds you catch your breath, then you realize the height at which the wave has lifted you. It begins to cascade down; instinctively, you wrap your arms around Baekhyun’s unmoving form and brace yourself for the crash.

It’s dizzying.

It hurts.

It’s terrifying.

You hold your breath, close your eyes, hold onto the man in your arms with all you have, and wait for the water to stop jostling you around so violently. The water seems to calm slightly, so you open your eyes.

The water is dark, and then bright. Black, and then illuminated by lighting.

Your chest tightens as your need for oxygen reaches desperation. You maneuver yourself beneath the water enough to hold Baekhyun with one arm and swim to the top with the other.

You break the surface and gasp for air desperately.

You pull your rope and the boat appears at your side, thankfully upright. You lift Baekhyun aboard first, and then with heavy limbs, you topple on top of him. You don’t give yourself a chance to catch your breath before you’re leaning over him checking for signs of life.

You lower your ear to his chest. You can’t tell if he’s breathing. If his heart is beating.

“Come on Byun. Don’t die on me like this,” you beg. You repeatedly push against his chest, the way you were taught to restart a heart. After a few beats you press your ear to his chest again to listen for a change.

Nothing.

“Fuck. Come on…come on,” you pant.

You pinch his nose and lean down to cover his mouth with yours, filling his lungs with the air that he’s unable to take in on his own. His chest rises each time you exhale into his mouth. You go back to pumping your locked hands against his chest. A wave knocks you on your side. The boat stays upright.

You exhale into his mouth again, once, twice. You beg the rain to let up. You beg the waves to grow smaller.

You beg his heart to start beating.

He jerks and water spurts from his mouth. Relief hits you so hard that all the energy left in your body is expelled and you sag forward and land directly onto his chest.

You can finally hear the dull thumping of his heart. You can feel the shallow rise and fall of his chest.

At last, you can take a second to just breathe.

The small boat continues to jerk around, but it’s clear that the worst of the storm has passed. The waves now are shallow and choppy. The rain has lessened to nothing but a drizzle. The thunder rumbles farther and farther in the distance.

And Baekhyun’s heartbeat gets stronger.

You close your eyes, and let exhaustion overcome you, lulled into sleep by the beat of his heart and the rocking of the boat.

[reinahwanggg]

I Miss You》 Park Jisung

credits to gif owner

pairing: jisung park x reader

word count: 1.9K

warnings: slight angst (not really)

genre: established relationship, idol au, fluff, slight angst, jisung being a caring boy, boyfriend!jisung, reader misses him, but doesn't wanna admit it

a/n: i envisioned myself in this position haha, sorry

"good night honeybee. i love you."

"good night angel! i love you always."

jisung sleepily replies, yawning into the phone, before he closed his eyes to be guided into slumber. although he knows comeback seasons does take a toll on his body, and sometimes mentality, he makes sure he calls you every night. whether it be to tell you he'll be in the dance studio until the next day, or before bed, he always tries to find time for you in his extremely busy schedule, especially since he is quite worried about you.

although it's been a few months since the entire debacle, he always wants to make sure you're safe and well. he knew that you didn't mind all of the sudden attention, and you didn't care about what everyone thought about you and him together, but sometimes he just wants to make sure you're okay.

it's obvious that he's the more vocal one in the relationship; always saying what's on his mind, telling you whenever he felt you should say or stop this, or whenever he felt angry about something petty and wanted to say it to get over it. he just has more experience in expressing his feelings to those close to him.

you, on the other hand, always kept everything bottled up inside, not necessarily saying anything, even when it bothers you, because you wouldn't want to be a bother to others, unless it ticked you off. you were always the one to express your anger for some complicated situations, but rarely to others. you find yourself as your own confidant, as your own provider, as your own push to help you through the tunnel of life.

the way you handle things, often than not, got you in some heated arguments with jisung. he just wants you to tell him when it's too much pressure. especially that day when the camera crew came in, setting a gazillion cameras inside your house, saying that the fans would love to see how you and jisung interact. he saw how uncomfortable it made you, and seeing as it's been two weeks, and you still jump when you walk in your sleepwear at 7am and see the camera following you, it's enough evidence.

yet, whenever he asks you, you brush it aside. ''i'll get used to it'' you'll always tell him, knowing fully well, you sometimes can't stand it. waking up, and pretending to be a youtuber making a get ready with me video, only for it to actually be posted, it ticks you off. yet, all you tell him is that you'll get used to it.

this situation, was no different. for the past three months, jisung has had activity after activity to go through, while trying to record content for this stupid youtube segment. most times it would split videos of him and you on the phone, laughing about some stupid meme you saw on twitter. you know, every single piece of your body misses your boyfriend; dying to be back in his arms, and snuggled with him on the couch, watching random TV shows while he randomly kisses your hair and pulls you closer.

you know that you miss him, and yearn for the day he comes and tells you that promotions are over and the frequent break in between has begun, but you don't tell him that. you don't tell him how much you miss waking up in the morning to see him dancing around the kitchen to a video of you singing one of his songs in the best voice you can muster, unintentionally burning the eggs on the stove.

you don't tell him how much you miss coming home from an interview with other artists, only to see him fixing his hair, humming puzzle piece, smiling goofily at the thought of you. you don't tell him how much you miss your rant sessions; him ranting about how close fans get sometimes, and you ranting about how much you wanna punch your coworker in the throat for her unbearably cocky attitude.

you don't tell him how much you miss last minute packing for a day trip to the other side of the country. you don't tell him how much you miss sulking on the couch, only for him to plant a million pecks and kisses on every corner of your face, until you smiled and playfully pushed him away.

before you knew it, you're sitting up in your bed, crying to yourself about how much you miss him. and for once, you want to let him know, desperately throwing away your pride and wanting him to know how much you ache for his presence, and his quirky habits, and his killer smile, and just everything he has to offer. you miss him so much, your cries get a little too loud, your breath gets a bit too heavy, and your body shakes a bit too much, but you don't care, you just miss him so much it physically hurts you.

the little lamp in the corner of your room shines a somber gold around the room, you oblivious to the fact that the cameras are on 24/7 and is catching this very moment, of your vulnerability. you are also oblivious to the fact that he didn't hang up the phone, him obviously being too tired to actually hover his finger, as he was out like a light, his little snores in the background evident to the entire thing.

"honeybee, i miss you so much. so much it hurts."

you start, your voice choked up, coming out cracked, and scratchy.

halfway through your rant, jisung wakes up, blinking a few times to himself, trying to adjust to the bright light amidst the dark room, the slightest sound of hiccups ring in his ear, an extremely nasally voice ringing out sobs and muffled words, and he automatically sits up in concern. he wants to immediately ask you what's wrong, but instead just listens to what you have to say.

"i miss how, every time you hug me, it feels like placing the last piece of the puzzle in its rightful place. honeybee i just miss how much you check up on me when i'm sick. how sometimes we take turns nightly to sing each other to sleep, you laughing when my voice cracks, or me teasing you with praises for a run you mastered. i miss playful mornings, both of us being too lazy to move, but somehow ending up dancing around the room to various artists and songs. i miss when i wake up, and you're already staring at me, the loving gaze in your eyes as you slightly smile, immediately going to plant a kiss on my big ass forehead. i miss pushing you away, and telling you to brush your teeth before you could give me a good morning kiss. i miss when you and the boys would all pile up in my house, and i would get to show you a bit of my country's cuisine, and laughing when you guys scarf it down like you haven't eaten in years. and i want to tell you all of this, but i don't want to be a burden to you. you already have a lot, with some overbearing fans, promotions, and the occasional run ins. i don't want you to focus on me only and put your feelings on the backburner like i always do. i wish i just had to courage to tell you all of this."

by the end of your rant, jisung has to wipe a few tears from his eyes, smiling sadly on the other end of the phone call, wanting to just pack his overnight bag and come to hold you, tell you that he misses you just as much, and scold you for keeping everything bottled up, like he always does.

he goes to check the time, 2:16 am it says, and he knows that he has to be up by 4am in any event, and he suddenly thanks literally everything for the sudden off day his boss gave them, because he knows for sure, after what you just confessed, he's going to surprise you. he hears some ruffling on the other side of the call, the sound of bedroom slippers hitting the tile floors, and a door opening and closing. he just hopes you're okay.

you, on the other hand, walks into your kitchen, quite starved after crying your heart out for what feels like all night, which in truth was about three hours. you flip the switch, your kitchen suddenly illuminated, and you put your hand in front of your eyes, the quick headache taking effect, and you blink repeatedly at the sudden light. you then smile, before going to your dishes, taking out your favorite bowl, and pouring some lucky charms to the brim of the bowl, before going in your refrigerator, and grabbing your milk, pouring it in as well, and grabbing a spoon.

you walk back towards the exit of the kitchen, towards the corridor that connected both the living room and the stairway in separate mazes together. suddenly flinching once you see the infamous moving camera, following you, and you roll your eyes. 'do they not need new batteries or something?' you thought to yourself, before walking upstairs to your room.

you look up at the camera on top of your vanity, and smile and tight lipped uncomfortable smile, before showing the big bowl of lucky charms and chuckling.

"cereal hits different at 2am after an emotional breakdown."

you say, chuckling once again, and happily eating your food, humming along to love again, as it plays inside your head, liking the way it sounds, and suddenly asking alexa to play it for you. it's not as loud as it would usually be, considering what time it is, and the fact that your neighbor just came back home from her long ass business trip (which you're lowkey suspicious of, because her boss came looking for her halfway through, saying if she didn't come in tomorrow then she'll be fired) and doesn't like k-pop for the life of her.

you rest your bowl by the foot of your bed, honestly too lazy to go back downstairs and place it back inside the sink. you then go to your phone, and open it, seeing as it was still on the book you were reading before jisung demanded for your attention, only to then fall asleep on you ten minutes later. you read until you notice the sun up, suddenly hearing my first and last playing around you. the doorbell ringing frequently, and you check the time.

9:48 am it reads, and you realize you read about 10 books in the span of seven hours. you shout that you'll be down in a minute and make sure jisung's hoodie is low enough, before placing your bedroom slippers back on and walking down the stairs, turning into the living room and left, towards the separate entryway (it's kind of a big ass house), opening the door, before tears blurred your vision, and you immediately scooped up from the floor, and spun around on your porch, inhaling the scent you missed for the past three months. quite happy that you were in jisung's embrace again.

you didn't question it one bit, in fact you didn't question anything, just told him to come inside and told alexa to play the song louder. coincidentally, it was Quiet Down, making both you and jisung laugh boisterously, before walking into the kitchen, and dancing to his songs, as you both made pancakes and gossiped about anything and everything, just like you missed and loved.

[spookysanta]

miss you. (g.d.)

part i of ii.

Summary: long distance relationships suck; but especially for (Y/N) and Grayson.

Pairing: Grayson Dolan x Reader

WARNINGS: mentions of sex (not yet), angst??????????????????????????, fluff, bad writing

UNEDITED

YUH look at me on a writing streak :) and let’s all reminisce on fetus baby boy by these precious “date” snaps:

(@trapezoidmouth on IG)

***THIS TAKES PLACE AROUND APRIL/MAY***

i only mention that bc it’s talking about graduation and it’s july so i didn’t want people to make a big deal about it

***

"So," she told him with a big sigh on the phone when she got home from class. "I did my presentation today."

"Oh, really?" he replied, while cooking himself an omelette. It was three o'clock her time and noon in Los Angeles, where he was; so it was brunch time. "How'd it go?"

"It..was awful." She tried to force herself not to cry, because when she cries, Grayson is quick to get up and go wherever she was to comfort her. Which might be good in the moment, but she doesn't want to do that to him (anymore--this would've been the fourth time he'd done that). "Gray, I did everything my teacher told me to! I added the information I needed to, took out some stuff, and I even memorized everything! But when I got up there...I couldn't do it."

"What was your topic again?"

She recited her research question as if it were read out of a book. "How listening to music during pregnancy helps a baby's development in the womb."

"Really? That doesn't sound hard at all."

"It wasn't that my topic was hard, it was that the questions I got asked were too hard for me to answer, and how I answered questions was a big portion of my grade." she was getting a little misty-eyed. She'd been working on this project for months; she thought she'd learned just about everything there is to know about music's effects on child development. "Gray, I really thought I had it until then."

"Listen, baby. Regardless of how you think it went, I'm sure you did better. Because I've heard your presentation and you sounded like you knew exactly what you were talking about. I think it's all in your head, angel." He sighed, flipping his omelette in the pan. He liked omelettes when she made them for him when she visited, because she knew exactly what he wanted, how much of each ingredient to add, and she makes sure they're always cheesy and delicious. But when he makes them, sometimes they're a little...underdone.

"I can't focus." she put him on speakerphone and took off her top, pants, and bra, opting to wear one of his t-shirts for comfort. She has a few of them, but her favorite one to wear is the black crew neck. It's plain and simple, and it fits him like a god. But she managed to take it when she left L.A. the last time; and honestly, she took a little vile of his cologne, too, to spray on the shirt after she washes it. "It's so close to graduation, baby, and I know you're gonna call me a loser for saying this, but I can't do this anymore. I want to drop out." she groaned.

"You're a loser either way, in my opinion." he heard her laugh on the other end of the phone. And that laugh was like air to his lungs, if he's being completely honest with himself. He hadn't heard that angelic laugh in months. The last time they'd been together was when she visited him the last few days of her Winter Break--and that was in January. "But you literally graduate in a month. Shut up."

"Okaaaaaaaaaaaay." she groaned again. What she wouldn't give for his bone-crushing cuddles right about now. That's all she wants. She'd been feeling weepy and anxious and a bit sad all day, but now that she's talking to her man, she's starting to feel the heavy weight of her stress lift. "I miss you." she confessed. "I know we agreed that we wouldn't get all sappy like this but I'm wearing your shirt right now and all I smell is you."

“I miss you, too.”

She heard noise on the other end and nearly vomited at the sound. "Move your mouth away from the receiver, Gray. I can hear you chewing."

He chewed louder, his mouth hovering over the phone's microphone. "Like this?"

She hung up the phone.

***

He called her again later, at around four o'clock his time. He and his brother were outside and he was about to grill some steaks for dinner. "Hello?" he greeted into the receiver. "Baby?"

"Hey." she groggily replied. She'd fallen asleep while talking to her best friend on FaceTime and she woke up about five minutes ago. "What's up, boo?"

"Just checkin' on you. I wanted to make sure you're in better spirits than earlier."

"Yeah, I'm fine." She sat up and stumbled down the stairs and into the kitchen , finding a box of Kraft mac and cheese in the pantry to cook. "I'm just glad everything’s over with."

"I understand. I just don't want you to be all sad and mopey."

"I'm not sad and mopey only because of my presentation, I'm sad and mopey because I miss my boyfriend." she sighed. "I really don't think I can wait until my birthday to see you."

"So what do you want me to do? You want me to come there, or fly you out here?"

"It doesn't matter, honestly. I just want to see you." she stirred some salt in the pot of boiling water, then poured the noodles into the pot, turning down the heat, and shutting the lid. "Doesn't even have to be long. I just want cuddles and kisses."

"I'd be glad to give you that, and you know I would come and see you right now if I could, but I can't right now. We're filming all week this week and both of us need to be here for it."

"I'm dying without my fuckin' cuddles, man." she drained the pasta, hissing to herself when a little bit of water got on her brown hand. She cursed quietly, already assuming that Grayson knew she'd injured herself somehow--as she usually does. She put the pasta back in the pot and added butter, almond milk, and the powdered cheese, stirring it and letting it cool a bit before pouring it in a bowl next to the stove. "I wanna see your pretty face." she spoke, holding the phone to her ear and with her bowl in one hand and a bottle of sparkling water in the other.

"Hold on a second." she heard shuffling on the other end of the phone. He was making a space on his desk for his phone to sit on, but she already knew that that'd been what he was up to, because his desk is constantly cluttered with papers, receipts, pens and pencils, etc. His desk was riddled with stuff. She heard the quiet his of "ah dammit", and then she finally saw it. That gorgeous grin that makes his hazel eyes crinkle in the outer corners. "Hi, honey."

And as happy as she'd typically be to see his face on FaceTime, all she did was sob. "Hey." She grabbed her food and her drink and with cloudy vision, she guided herself to the couch to eat.

His face fell. "What's wrong? Did I catch at a bad time?"

"No." She sniffled. God, she was so emotional today. "I just...I want you."

"Oh, babe. I wish there was something I could do about that but right now my hands are completely tied."

"I just want cuddles and kisses and hugs! And I want to wear that new shirt you just bought because it looks comfy and I bet it smells good."

"Baby I promise—hold out a little bit longer and you can have whatever it is you want." He paused. "Except for that shirt.”

"Why?" She whined.

"Because I bought that shirt last week. It's still new."

"So? I want it."

"You can have every other shirt except that one. At least not for a while."

"Ugh!" She groaned. "You're the worst."

"I've been told."

She looked away from her phone that was propped up on a pillow and turned on the television, turning to a DVR recording of Botched and settling into the couch, fully accepting the fact that she had to cuddle with the pillows next to her instead of her boo. She picked up her fork, sadly poking the orange-dyed macaroni noodles and putting them in her mouth. "I don't want this anymore." She muttered to herself, catching the attention of the boy on the other end of the phone, who'd only just found something to do on his laptop to distract himself from looking at her tear-stained face.

Because if he did, he'd be at her every beck and call and give her exactly what she wanted. And he was a busy guy; he didn't have time to fly across the country to snuggle her like he has the slight habit of doing.

As much as he craved her—her body, her mind, her laugh, her smell (God, the way she smells? Absolutely intoxicating. He finds himself thinking of the inticing scent on the days when he misses her the most, and it's almost as if she infiltrates his nostrils. Ergo, causing him to miss her 1000x more.)—he cannot leave Los Angeles for at least the next week. If he leaves, then that means Ethan would be left with editing their upcoming video's footage, and that's the last thing he needs right now.

"Why not? When we texted earlier, you said you were hungry."

"Yeah. I was. But now...I don't know." She shrugged. She stopped the recording on the TV, picking her bowl back up and setting it in the microwave for if she wanted it later. Then, she trudged her way back upstairs and got in her bed. She sighed, feeling the lump in her throat form again.

[heathenarmyimagines]

Title: A Different Time

Summary: After a bit more chaos the day finally chills out.

Pairing: Ivar x Reader

Taglist: @ubbesgirl, @shewolf2000, @tis-itheapplepie, @atequila, @demoncrypt1066, @greennightspider, @badbitsh13, @fireismysaftey, @minarawr, @laketaj24, @hvitserksgirl, @blahblahcookiesdoma, @fabulous-peasent, @sforsammmmmi, @minmiin1d, @courtrae89, @letsloveimagines, @tomarisela, @titty-teetee, @beyond-the-ashes@elenawrit, @mblaqgi, @whenimaunicorn, @chuflisworld, @mystruggledlife, @moose-squirrel-asstiel, @syreni-dea, @trashqueenbitch, @alykatv, @mbaku-babygirl, @perfectus-in-morte, @beyond-the-ashes, @neeadinghugs, @readsalot73, @triumphantreturnofpies, @anarchy-is-coming, @tephi101, @alicedopey, @ivarslittlebadgirl, @jtrstp, @nejijjeoroo, @charlylama, @ivartheblessed, @captstefanbrandt, @fabulouschrissi, @ivarsrideordie, @3x5gurl, @the-writer-appreciation-blog, @lolabee9, @captainfoxy22, @young-ugly-god, @im5ftbutmythroat66, @bribyyy, @irishhiggins, @cadetomlinson, @keclleon101, @slutforragnarssons, @ltkeke, @meeeeeeeeeps, @lille-kanin, @opalscarab, @ssraven7, @ivarandersen, @concretewaywardangel, @funmadnessandbadassvikings, @sharon-is-tired, @cadetomlinson, @mystruggledlife, @chuflisworld, @justmarissa97, @lol-haha-joke, @weirdly-randomly-awesome, @inlovewithmakeupcomicsanim, @idonthavehusbandsihavelovers, @alexa040004, @buckythetinman , @burntmythroatskullingmytea,@jorunnravenslayer, @two-unbeatable-beaters, @buffy-the-vampire-blogger, @arses21434, @ltkeke, @captainfoxy22, @chinduda

Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four, Part Five, Part Six, Part Seven, Part Eight, Part Nine, Part Ten, Part Eleven, Part Twelve, Part Thirteen, Part Fourteen 

You were unsure what to do, who to comfort first.

Ubbe and Hvitserk had each other, and Lagertha was taming Bjorn. So Ivar it was.

You went around to your room and walked through the connecting bathroom.

‘Ivar?’ you called softly as you entered the room, trying to prepare whatever disaster you might walk in on.

What you saw when you walked in proved you were right to be tense, Ivar was on the ground as if he had fallen from his chair and he was convulsing.

You rushed to his side and take him into arms, at first you thought you he was having a seizure, but you looked at his face and saw that his, while wide with fear, they were focused.

A panic attack.

‘Its OK Ivar, I’m right here, I’m with you.’ you said.

Still he couldn’t get in good breath.

‘OK, listen to me Ivar, we are going to take a deep breath. Breath in for four seconds.’ you said before taking a breath, making sure to watch Ivar do the same.

‘Good, good; now lets just hold it in for five seconds. One, two, three, four, five; now let it all out.’ you instructed,

Ivar let out a long sigh and seemed to calm down a bit, you and he did the exercise a few times until he was calm enough to speak.

‘There you go.’ you sighed in relief.

‘Sigurd will never forgive me no matter what I sacrifice...I will never forgive me.’ Ivar sobbed.

‘We will never return to Kattegat and it will be my fault because I killed him...my own brother.’ he cried.

You held him close.

‘Don’t you lose hope Ivar, things will get better, we’ll figure something out. For right now why don’t you get in bed and I’ll tuck you in and you can sleep until you feel better.’ you offered.

He wiped his eyes before he nodded and pull himself up onto the bed.

You pulled the covers over him and rubbed his hair gently ran a hand through his hair before you kissed his forehead.

‘Sweet dreams Ivar.’ you whispered.

Ivar didn’t say anything back, he just turned over and pulled the covers over his head, the way a child would after a bad day at school. 

You sighed sadly before you turned and left the room.

Once you were back in the  hall you were about to go and check on  Ubbe and Hvitserk when you heard a knock on the door.

You waled over to the door and looked through the peephole.

Alvin.

You rolled your eyes as you open the door.

‘You really couldn’t have chosen a worse time to show up unannounced.’ you said as you stepped outside closing the door behind you.

‘If I had called you wouldn’t have answered.’

‘No I’d answer...and tell you I don’t want you near my damn house.’ you sassed as you folded your arms.

‘Please (Y/N) let’s just talk, just the two of us. There isn’t a girl in my car and I even deleted every girl I had in my phone. I just...I want you back.’ he said reaching out to grab you by the waist.

You backed away from him.

‘What you do now doesn’t change what you did, or all the girls you did it with Alvin. So try peddling that “baby I want you back” shtick for the next girl, maybe she’ll fall for it.’ you said.

‘I’m not peddling anything, I miss you. I know I was wrong going out looking for sex behind your back. You weren’t ready, I respected that and didn’t want to force you, but I wasn’t patient enough to wait for you to be ready and found someone else.’

‘A lot of someones.’ you said.

‘Yes a lot...and each time it was wrong. The other girls they were just...sex and nudes, you were everything that mattered. A person to talk to, a friend I could trust and a good girl to bring home and settle down with.’

‘I was good to you Alvin, better than you deserved. I don’t like making the same mistake twice. We were a mistake; I’m not ready for sex, you aren’t ready wait for sex.’ you reasoned.

‘I’m ready to wait for you now.’

‘It’s too late Alvin.’ you said.

Just when Alvin was going to speak the door opened and there stood Bjorn, Ubbe, Hvitserk and Lagertha.

‘Who the hell is these people?’ he asked as he tensed up his body language.

‘We heard the door open and thought maybe it was Sigurd again.’ Hvitserk said as he looked at Alvin.

‘Is this Alvin?’ Lagertha asked.

‘Yes, he was just leaving.’ you said as you tried to herd them back into the house.

‘The one who made you cry? This is that Alvin?’ Ubbe asked as his looked your ex up and down, sizing him up.

‘Yes, everyone jus-

‘Good, just what I needed after the day I’ve had.’ Bjorn said as he stepped past you and got in Alvin’s face.

‘You got a problem old head?’ Alvin asked defensively getting in a fighting stance.

Bjorn didn’t seem to notice the change in position at all, he just grabbed Alvin by his shoulders and lifted him off the ground.

‘What the fuck?! Let go of me old man!’ 

‘Bjorn put him down! No fighting! I told you no fighting!’ you yelled as you  tried to make the beast of a man put down your poor ex.

With a heavy sigh and the roll of his eyes he dropped Alvin like a sack of potatoes.

‘All of you inside, we’ll talk later.’ you said as you went to help Alvin stand back up.

They all spared Alvin one last look before they went back inside.

‘Nah, what the hell was that shit who the hell were they and why they in yo house?!’ Alvin yelled angrily. 

‘Foreigners! I rented out some of the rooms for extra pocket money, they stay here until their visas expire. They were who I bought the clothes for at Walmart, I was going to tell you but you looked busy.’ you lied.

‘That big ass old motherfucker...tell his ass to get back out here!’ Alvin said angrily.

‘No! That man is veteran a damn good one from the stories he’s told he could kill you! Alvin just go, we are over and that old man is just having a bad day and so are you. Please please please just walk away, don’t tell anyone don’t call the cops or they could get in serious trouble. Alvin please do this one thing for me if you ever cared at all, just walk away and forget this.’ you begged.

He was still angry, you could see that, but he looked at you and sighed before he nodded.

‘I don’t snitch...not even on big ass old heads.’ he said.

You sighed with relief.

‘Thank you.’ 

‘Don’t sweat it...and (Y/N), I am sorry for what I did. If by some miracle you ever decided to give me a second chance I’d take it, and I would be better.’ he said before he turned and left.

You watched him get in his truck and drive off.

Now that he was gone you had a whole other monster to deal with inside.

You went inside and there they were on the couch with faces ready for a scolding.

‘I’m not mad or disappointed so I’m not going to yell, none of us need that right now. Today has been...today fucking sucked.’ you said bluntly.

‘I had to work, I got sexually harassed and you all have had a visit from your brother, my ex popped up and you nearly got into a second fight after we had avoided the first.’ you summarized.

‘Yes today...fucking sucked.’ Lagertha agreed.

‘I say we spend the rest of this long ass day watching TV, and eating our feelings. That’s how most people handle a bad day.’ you said as you set the TV up and pushed play on the show.

You head back into the kitchen to get a few bags of chips and Little Debbie snack cakes from the pantry, using your shoe to prop the door open just in case.

You came back into the living living room and put all the goods on the table and opened a few, showing them how to eat the snacks before you sat down on the love seat and opened a bag of Cheetos while the show played.

You all fall into a comfortable silence while watching Merlin, the vikings didn’t ask questions they just sat on the couch and ate.

Finally, things were chilled...for now at least.