#they are not perfect though my other brother missed the birth day for 5 days

[lvpercalia]

Today is my birthday and also my brother's :)

[em-writes-stuff-sometimes]

darilaros (princess) │ Chapter 8: Birthright

terms of endearment ‘verse: see my Masterlist for the correct series order!

Chapter 1 │Chapter 2 │Chapter 3 │Chapter 4 │Chapter 5 │Chapter 6 │Chapter 7 │Chapter 8 (COMPLETE!)

Synopsis: As the second daughter of King Viserys, you experience firsthand what it means to belong to the House of the Dragon. Your wish comes true.

Hello! Welcome to the FINAL CHAPTER of this instalment, another 8000+ word chapter! Everyone's long-anticipated 'claiming scene' is here, so please give a round of applause to our angryboi, the Cannibal! Keep in mind that I've officially retconned Luke and Daeron's ages (they're 8 and 9 in gevivys now, not 5 and 6 like they were originally - please let me know if I've missed any instances so far!), Thank you to my boobear @ewanmitchellcrumbs for beta-ing this thingo!

TRIGGERS: more abandonment issues, reference to pervy suitors.

Scarcely any time passes between that eve and the arrival of Rhaenyra’s firstborn son, Jacaerys.

’Nyra’s world changes when her baby comes. She is as perfect a mother as you think any woman could be, spending nearly all the hours of the day looking at him or holding him or caring for him. Having a babe has changed her, softened her hard edges and given her a calmness she had once lacked. All she wants to talk about is him. When she is not talking about him or being with him, she is in council meetings, or she is with Papa performing whatever tasks the heir to the throne is expected to do. She tries to find moments to spare for you, though it is far less often than it used to be, and she always brings her boy with her.

Jace is a pretty babe, dark-haired and dark-eyed, so unlike either of his parents, and he always seems quite serious in expression—but there is something that holds you back with him. Even though you love him—and he is one half of ’Nyra, so of course you love him—it is like a wall exists between you and him. His mother is your sister, and his father is your cousin, and you… you have no place there. You are on the outside looking in at a life you cannot have.

A part of you wants to stare down at the babe and tell him that you were here first. That you will always have known his mama for longer than he ever shall, that nothing can take away the fact that she belonged to you before she belonged to him. But you don’t. ’Nyra is a new mother, and her child should be all that matters. If you were her babe, that is what you would want. She does not need the petty jealousy of her little sister to ruin things. It is better for you, for her, for him that you find other ways to fill your days.

Daeron’s birth makes it easier.

It is almost like Alicent barely even notices the arrival of her third son, though you do not blame her. She had screamed so loud that even you had heard her in your own chambers. It was not like that with Aegon or Helaena or Aemond. The commotion had been enough to rouse you from your bed to creep toward the queen’s apartments, to hear Grand Maester Mellos tell Papa that her belly might need to be laid open like—

No. No. The throb of nausea is so vile just thinking of it. You put it out of your mind, doing your best to ignore the prickle of an old hurt and the word ‘Mama’ on the tip of your tongue, hushed and afraid.

Alicent is weak after the birth, and so you take it upon yourself to visit your new little brother, to keep him company where everyone else would have left him to attendants. He is so, so quiet, as though he is ashamed of the way he had entered the world, the way he had hurt his mother coming out. It is like he is an apology for the pain she was made to go through. He is sweet, barely crying though he goes for times without the attention he deserves, and he never fusses when you reach into the cradle to lift him up. You are not quite strong enough to carry him around places, but it is relatively easy to take him to the chair to prop him on your lap in the nursery while Helaena plays.

When Alicent heals, she makes no attempt to disturb your routine, and it is like you have your very own baby to match ’Nyra’s. Sometimes, you imagine that Daeron is yours like Jace is hers and that you are ’El’s mama too, and that you have the important task of being their whole world. Even though the idea of having babies is beginning to scare you a great deal, being a mama is nice. Playing pretend is nice.

But then, the wet nurses come or Alicent comes, and your brother and sister are taken away. It reminds you that you really are alone, after all. ’Nyra giving birth to her next son, Lucerys—Luke—only worsens that feeling. Her family is growing and growing while yours seems to only exist on borrowed moments. Still, you take what love you can and bury the rest of it—the despair, the resentment, the soft tender parts of you that cry out for someone, anyone at all to really, truly see you—far, far below the surface, so deep that no one can touch it, not even you.

You seek solace in knowledge.

Books become your very best friends. The older you get, the easier reading becomes. You leave behind folktales and children’s myths to begin browsing through tomes with smaller letters and larger, more difficult words. Stories turn into histories and treatises on all manner of topics, with dragons, direwolves, men, and the fall of Old Valyria being but some of your preferred subjects of study. You learn the names of the Lannister kings before the Conquest; you gather as many legends on the Age of Heroes as you can; you peruse chronicles detailing the first coming of the Andals to Westerosi shores. Through books, the very land you live upon seems to unfold like a map through time itself, all the secrets of the continent opening themselves up to you through tooled leather and yellowed pages.

It makes Papa immensely proud. “If a woman is to sit the Iron Throne after I am gone,” he says, “then perhaps a woman ought to be her right hand!”

You can tell this makes his other councilmen nervous by the way they share glances. For all that Rhaenyra has been heir for years now, there are still many among the court who believe your brother ought to succeed him. But Papa does not seem to want to change his mind, for he is as determined to see your sister continue to attend small council as he always has been.

Still, you take it to heart. Being Hand of the Queen someday means that you will get to stay with your sister even if you are made to be married. It means you will be important in a way that you haven’t really been so far. But a good Hand has to know so so much about all the lands and people a king or queen might encounter during the years of their reign. You outgrew Septa’s lessons moons ago, and the more you read, the more it becomes apparent that books aren’t enough to teach you all you need to know. There is no one and nothing that can help you become the cleverest possible version of yourself in King’s Landing—at least, not one willing to do such a task. The maesters would not abide by schooling a girl in the higher arts.

Thus, you firmly decide upon the gift you would like for your name day. Standing in the king’s solar two moons before the occasion is to take place, you impart your desire to your audience of one.

“I wish for a tutor, please,” you tell Papa. “Someone who can teach me anything I wish to know.”

Papa laughs. “And what is it you wish to know, my girl?” he asks. You are unsure if he is amused or delighted by your request.

His question makes you think. What do I want to know? There is no single answer you can produce. How do you describe the feeling of wanting to know something you don’t know enough about to be sure you want to learn it?

“Anything,” is what you reply with. “Everything.”

“Anything and everything.” Papa takes a drink from his cup, his nose scrunching when the liquid inside hits his tongue. You do not think it is wine. He returns the cup to the table beside him, reaching his hand out to you. You move forward to take it. “A lofty request. But you are soon to be ten summers old!” He grins. A scab at his temple cracks with the motion. “That, I think, is a milestone worthy of celebration. Very well, daughter,” he says with a grunt. “If a tutor is what you want, then a tutor we shall find.”

He stays true to his word. Not long after you make your appeal to him, all manner of strangers the realm over make their way to King’s Landing to seek an audience with you and Papa. It is the first time you are allowed to remain by his side in the Great Hall, though it means you must balance atop a twist of melted-together swords to rest your rear against the edge of the armrest, one of the few places upon the throne that cannot cut you should you make contact with it. Papa insists, however, for these people have gathered to seek employment with you, and so you must be the one to approve them.

There is frightfully little to approve. Several of those who come to answer Papa’s ravens ignore you wholly, their eyes sliding over you as though you are not even there. One of them, a man named Robert, outright refuses to answer your query as to what would make cyvasse lessons so appealing to a girl of your station. It is enough to put you off the game entirely. But his conduct is by no means the worst. There are younger lads who possess no more skill than the average knight’s squire, clearly hastened to the Red Keep by the promise of a lucrative wage and companionship with the king’s daughter. More than one septon shuffles in to lecture you and Papa on the merits of providing a holy education to the female mind, sinful as it is. Even noblemen like Lord Rosby come to offer to take wardship of you, suggesting that growing up with another girl your age is more than enough learning for a princess. You suspect his proposal has more to do with the large sum he owes over east.

You and Papa reject them all, sending them away with nary a further glance. Those who grow angered by the refusal are easily frightened off by Ser Criston’s hand coming to rest on his pommel at the foot of the steps. Since Alicent had appointed him your sworn shield some moons after Rhaenyra’s wedding, he has taken to his task with a dedication that would worry you if not for the fact that he is made to take breaks. You think that if he were allowed, he would set up a pallet beside the door to your rooms to keep constant guard over you.

Four days after your tenth name day, someone different arrives. Someone new.

“Presenting Ser Lysan Marios of… er… the Free Cities!” the guard announces.

You crane your neck in curiosity as this Ser Lysan makes his way into the hall. He is dark-skinned, light-haired, and his robes are an odd assortment of various fabrics stitched together. It appears well-made, if unusual, and the colours are bright. Reds, blues, yellows, greens, oranges—it seems as though every shade is represented in the patches making up his attire, though you note that purple is missing. Not a noble, then. The man ambles slowly inside, helped by the use of a cane.

“I am from Volantis, Your Grace,” he says when he is finally within earshot, bowing lowly. His voice is deep and rich. If a hug were to have a sound, you think this would be the closest you might come to finding it. “But I do suppose ‘of the Free Cities’ works just as well as any other epithet.”

“You have come a long way, ser,” Papa says. He is smiling like he always does when these visits begin. You wonder how long it will take for it to fade this time. “You are welcome here in King’s Landing.”

Ser Lysan laughs. “I certainly feel welcome! Such pleasant people you have here, Your Grace. Not a single one has attempted to steal my books thus far—and I confess I have brought plenty!”

This is what spurs you to finally speak up. “Books?” you ask. “What kind?”

When his eyes meet yours, it is like they twinkle, like stars. His mouth widens, exposing pearl-white teeth. “And this must be the young princess to whom I would be most glad to embark upon the journey of erudition with! Salutations to you,  princess!”

He bows again, attempting to cast his arm wide in a flourish—but it appears he had forgotten he was carrying one of his aforementioned books in hand, for it promptly clatters to the floor when he flings his hand out. You giggle, charmed. You cannot help it. He seems so kindly.

“Oh! Oh dear,” he mutters, crouching to the ground to collect his quarry. “My apologies, Your Grace, princess. Oh dear…”

Ser Criston darts forward as if to help, but the man has already taken hold of his prized tome by the time he is close enough.

“Ah—might I ask what areas you are learned in, Ser Lysan?” Papa asks, clearing his throat. His brow has furrowed ever-so-slightly, which means he finds the man before him a little confusing. It is more than a little funny. “My daughter has yet to decide upon an avenue of study.”

The embarrassment slides straight off Ser Lysan’s face. It is as though a bolt of lightning courses through him, such is the sudden shift of his expression into one of sparking joy. “Oh! What am I not a scholar of? I have studied in the physicians’ arts with the healer’s guild of Lorath; I have attended the great histories of Westeros and Essos with the esteemed intellectuals of Braavos; I have amassed a more-than-considerable lexicon of tongues across the known world—”

For a reason unknown to you, this piques your interest. “Languages? You know different languages?”

He nods. “Oh, yes! I am quite proficient in your ancestral tongue, princess. Valyrio Eglio udrir jaehenka issa.” High Valyrian is the language of the godly. He winks. “I am also well-versed in the eastern dialects of Valyrian, though admittedly they have not the lyricism of their originator. But I must confess, it is my particular interest to devote my academic prowess to the Lekh Dothraki, the tongue of those who ride.”

Papa’s knee twitches beside you. “The Dothraki? How have you come to make dealings with them?”

Ser Lysan waves him off. “Oh, I would not profess to be so grand as to make dealings with the horse-riders of the east! Ah, but mine wife was a Dothraki woman, who gave herself to me in payment for preventing a Volantene herbalist from poisoning her brother. A strange and alarming custom, I once thought. She was the most marvellous of creatures.” He sighs. For a moment, he is silent—then he jerks nearly full-bodied, as though he is awakening from some reverie. “The Dothraki are a misunderstood civilisation, Your Grace,” he says to Papa. “It is my hope that, in time, I am able to repay my wife’s goodness and bring knowledge to those who are ignorant of their ways.”

“I see,” Papa says. He coughs awkwardly. I don’t think he has ever met someone so inclined to talking, you muse. “And… what of your wife now? I had thought the Dothraki were opposed to crossing the sea.”

“They are.” Ser Lysan’s expression becomes shadowed, drawn. “It is my great sorrow that she has passed on to the nightlands, to roam the skies among the starry khalasar of her people.”

“My condolences.” This sounds more genuine. You know that Papa too still mourns your mother, even though he has Alicent now.

“My gratitude, Your Grace. But”—at this, he lightens, forcing a smile to his face once more—“that is not what I have come to discuss, is it?” He turns to you. “My apologies, princess! If I am so fortunate as to be deemed worthy by you, you may well find such tangents a price to pay for the lessons I have to impart. I am not well known for brevity, I am afraid.”

He’s the one. He’s my tutor. You know it. The way he speaks so happily about all the things he has learned; the way he cares so much about showing that some people are not always what everyone else thinks of them; the way he talks to you as though you are a person rather than just a means of earning coin or living in a palace. You want to know what it is like to be surrounded by that happiness, to spend your days learning from a person such as he rather than continue to quail under the yoke of Septa Marlow.

You readjust to curl into Papa, to lean forward and whisper into the shell of his ear. “I like Ser Lysan, Papa.”

“You do?” He exhales, a long-suffering sigh of resignation. His stare narrows at you as though irritated, though it slowly morphs into a grudging sort of smile. “Naturally.” If he were ’Nyra, he would be rolling his eyes by now. To Ser Lysan, he projects his voice far louder and says, “It appears my daughter has no taste for brevity, ser. If you wish to take up this post, we would be… honoured… to accommodate you.”

Ser Lysan’s brows raise in surprise. “Oh! No, Your Grace! The honour is mine!” He bows a third time, and it really ought to be excessive, but you cannot help how amiable you find him. “I pray I will not disappoint you, princess.”

“I am very glad to meet you, Ser Lysan,” you say, fighting the urge to leave Papa’s side and go forth to follow the man before you wherever he might go, to let yourself be enthralled by his tales and his rambling, half-formed thoughts. “I hope we shall have a very good time together.”

You are not to know it at this precise moment—but you will.

“We have made our introductions, princess, and I have learned the lay of the land as best I can, so to speak.”

Ser Lysan is settled in the chair opposite you, having just completed his surveyance of the room around him. You have been granted a solar for the very first time, a whole new chamber to fill with the tools necessary to begin your education. It is empty for now, though the bare necessities are present—namely, the considerable size of the bookshelves just waiting for their occupants to rest safely upon their surfaces. These will, in time, be filled by both your own and your tutor’s collections, or so he has assured you.

The crinkle of a page rouses you from your thoughts. Ser Lysan has unrolled a scroll of parchment, the nib of his quill already inked and prepared for some unknown purpose. He stares assessingly at you.

“What is it you wish to know?” he asks, hand poised to write.

It blurts out of you before you can think to stop it. “You can only be called ‘ser’ if you are a knight, but you have said you are a scholar. How is it that you have come to be called ‘ser’, then?”

You wince. Your question is far ruder than you had intended it to be. Thankfully, Septa is not here—she has begun spending more time with Helaena as of late. She would surely have reprimanded you. The query only serves to make the man smile indulgently at you, though. He lays the quill to the side upon his blotting paper. The ink pools dark across the fibres.

“If you must know, princess… I was a soldier in the Battle of the Borderland. The triarchs sent us in to attempt to wrest control of the Disputed Lands from Lys, Tyrosh and Myr. They were once under Volantene rule, did you know?”

Ser Lysan gazes at a spot on the wall just past you, and it is like he is seeing something altogether different. Something from another time and place.

“At first, we were sure of victory. Volantis has long held dominion in the east for a reason, after all. Our armies were larger, our armour finer, our steel sharper. But then…” He sighs. “Those cities joined forces. Formed the Triarchy. No one saw it coming. We ought to have. Such is hindsight, is it not? We understand now the things we missed then.”

Ser Criston shifts by the door, clearly uncomfortable. You wonder when he will interrupt, when he will instruct Ser Lysan not to tell you such dark-natured stories. You can only hope it will not turn violent.

“One morn—the sun had barely risen—our garrison was set upon by the Triarchy’s forces,” the man continues. “It was… carnage. So few of us survived. Of those of us that did, even fewer still were able to stand. The alliance’s warriors enjoyed leaving a rather particular token behind on the battlefield, as we were to learn. Severed legs are quite effective deterrents, it turns out.”

“That’s enough,” Ser Criston barks, face set in a glare. Secretly, you are glad for the interruption. The tale had grown far too frightening for you.

“My apologies!” Ser Lysan says, coughing lightly. “I forget myself sometimes. To answer your question, princess—I was able to make my way back to the main encampment, to warn the commanders just in time for our troops to pull back from the region. Many a life was lost, but thousands more were saved that day. I was knighted in the field.” A wan smile curves his lips. “That is where my title of ‘ser’ comes from.”

“Thank you for telling me,” you say. “I… I am sure it is not a pleasant memory. I am sorry.”

“It is quite alright. I became stronger for it. I learned that if I wish to survive, I must fight for it with everything I have in me. The fires of adversity strengthen the spirit.” He pauses, eyes locked onto your own. They are dark, almost black, like all the light in the world has been quenched. “Let this be my first lesson unto you—if you want something, you must do whatever is in your power to achieve it.”

Silence lingers for one moment; two; three. All of a sudden, he is cheerful again, shuffling his papers like nothing of import has occurred. You share an uncertain look with Ser Criston, who looks positively bewildered by the shift. Ser Lysan is an eccentric man, you decide. This is no bad thing.

“Back to my previous question, princess.” Ser Lysan picks up his quill once more, dipping it in the inkwell and tapping it against the rim to return the excess to the bottle. “I am knowledgeable in a great deal about the world in which we live. What is it that you would have me instruct you in? Histories, statecraft, linguistics?”

Before you is a man who has lived. He has come from a strange land bearing a strange name, learned in all manner of strange subjects. He fought for Volantis. His wife was a Dothraki woman. He bears the title ‘ser’ and yet wears a patchwork robe. What you know of him is bleak and terrifying, and yet here he sits before you, as jovial as a young man in his cups. There is a steady peace to him despite all he has seen, all he has likely experienced.

How has he come to be so merry? You think about the manner in which he’d brightened at the talk of his learning. Could one achieve such simple tranquillity through knowledge alone? Can books, can foreign tongues and foreign disciplines empower you with that sense of fulfilment you crave, that sense of belonging you have felt absent all your life?

You want dearly to discover the answer. It is this that permits you to finally settle upon your response to him.

“Anything,” you breathe. “Everything.”

You are not as brave as your sister. She is able to stand face to face against even the staunchest of her detractors—as of late, this being your very own lady stepmother, determined to discover what she believes to be ‘the truth’ of Jacaerys’s parentage, for a boy so dark of hair cannot possibly be Laenor’s, by her reckoning—without so much as a quiver in her lip. She can endure shouting, the strike of a switch, the endless train of whispers that seep through every crack in the walls of the keep with barely a pause in her breath to mark the ignominy of it. She can easily spurn the threat of humiliation and continue on her way with her head held high and some cutting remark poised on the tip of her tongue like a steel barb waiting to meet its target. These are not things you are capable of. But then, you are only a girl, younger than Rhaenyra was when she was made heir.

Yet old enough to finally—finally—claim your own dragon.

It had taken you years to wear down Papa, the scar on your arm serving as a perpetual reminder of the dangers that lie ahead in seeking out your birthright. Whenever you had made the request—“oh, please, Papa! I swear that I am ready!”—he had only to look upon the mark bisecting your flesh before his eyes hardened, the musculature of his neck clenched and poised to shake in refusal.

Once, his rejection had been sufficient to prevent your asking for several moons’ turns at the least, but Ser Lysan has been of great influence in his two years serving as your teacher, your companion, and your dear friend. “If you want something, you must do whatever is in your power to achieve it.” These words have remained as carvings in stone within your mind since that very first meeting. It is not within your power to unleash fire and fury the way your sister might—but you have come to learn that such a thing was never in your power. Your strength lay in other qualities. Your courtesy. Your placidity. Your modesty. These are strengths in their own way.

You had continued to ask. Over time, the nature of your appeals changed from churlish, infantile insistence to restrained, unaffected enquiry. Upon rebuff, you had smiled and said, “Very well, Papa. Thank you for listening.” You had repeated this same tactic over and over, sennight after sennight, until, at last, Papa had been worn down to his bones from weariness.

“You’ll not let up, will you, my girl?” he had asked, utterly fed up.

Instead of responding, you had simply maintained your carefully blank gaze, prepared to don your quiet acceptance like armour when his denial should strike. He had sighed, rubbed his eyes. The pull of his skin had cracked open another fissure in the lines of his face, red slowly beading up to the surface.

“Fine!” he had finally exclaimed, his hand thumping down upon the table so hard that you had wondered at his not feeling it. This was before the maesters agreed to remove it from his person, and so the flesh was mottled grey and black from rot. “Do as you will, daughter. Far be it from me to dissuade you.”

Thus, the ravens had been sent to the dragonkeepers residing on the ancestral isle of House Targaryen; the ship had been made ready; your retinue arranged; and you had been sent off on your first great journey.

The moment you step foot upon the shore in the low light of early evening, you hear it. You feel it. Like a rattling in the core of your bones, or an unearthly siren song catching faintly on the wind. It is not a sound, though, nor a sensation that you can describe in any language you know. All that you are sure of is that there is something here, something… expecting you.

Come, it says. I am waiting.

The keepers linger past the shoreline, scarcely a stone’s throw away. “Urnēbās, darilaros!” one says, eyes darting nervously about. Be watchful, princess! “Va īlō Zōbrios issa.” The Dark One is near.

“The Dark One?” you ask, frowning. “Who is that?”

Septa Marlow pales so starkly that she looks like she has applied paints to her skin. She seems entirely distasteful of the island itself, a curl to her lip that she only gets when seeing or hearing something she does not like. Meanwhile, Ser Criston’s fist tightens on the grip of his sheathed sword. He too glances around, tracking the skies like a shadowy shape will make its appearance at any moment. He seems familiar with the name.

It must be a dragon, you think. Very few living creatures reside upon the island, save for those that had been introduced by your blood long ago. Dragons are the only wild things that can weather such inhospitable climes.

The keeper leans in. “The Cannibal.” He shivers. “He is most wroth as of late. Beware of the beaches—too many of our Order have been lost to his appetites.”

The Cannibal. It is a story you have heard only when one had sought to frighten you—that of a winged beast so monstrous that not even his own kind would endure him. A creature so malevolent that he found his joy through death and destruction, ripping apart the younger members of his species so thoroughly that, at times, it was as though blood rained down from the heavens. The Cannibal, a being so malignant that any man who attempted to ride him had vanished cleanly from the face of the earth, consumed whole or left to rot away in some deep, dank pit below the mountainous terrain.

And yet—for all his supposed cruelties—no cities, no villages, no lands have been brought to waste beneath his flames. It is the one part of those tales that had never made sense to you. If he were as awful as that, surely there would be no one and nothing safe from him?

“Let us not waste our time, then,” Ser Criston says firmly, hand pressed between your shoulders to spur you onward. The weight of it grounds you in the present. He turns to bark orders at the attendants making their way ashore. “To the keep!”

You are taken past the Great Hall, catching a glimpse of the Painted Table on your way to a smaller chamber. You know the name of Aegon’s table is not quite correct, that it is made mostly of wood and rock, and that the rock itself is what Ser Lysan has told you is thermoluminescent, ‘thermo’ meaning heat and ‘luminescent’ meaning light. The table glows like lava when you ignite the candles below it, casting the great map of Westeros into fire. You should very much like to see it. But this visit is not to take in the sights of your family’s seat.

Much to the keepers’ confusion and consternation, you reject the offer to examine the eggs they have concealed within the hatchery. Or rather, you feel that the eggs would reject you if you should try to seek your companion in one. It is difficult to explain even in your own mind, so you make no attempt at voicing these thoughts—these almost-whispers at the back of your mind, like a soft brush of fingers at the base of your skull.

Septa Marlow huffs her displeasure. “This is most unbecoming of you, princess. You ought to know better than to refuse a gift such as this.”

‘They are not for me,’ you want to say. ‘The thought of them does not rouse me.’

You know not why you feel certain of this—that the mere prospect should stir you beyond simple anticipation. But it is as though you have always known this, for you do not find yourself disappointed by the missed opportunity nor by the censure.

A faint recollection sparks from your earliest youth, an old fear of what should occur if an egg comes into your possession and refuses to hatch, turning to stone over years and years. You do not wish for such a future. No—it is for the best that the eggs are left for another. Another time, another day, another person. Perhaps when it comes time to have your own children, you will revisit the notion.

To make matters even more complicated, however, there are no hatchlings upon the isle. It is what you had counted on all this time, but it seems that this is not to be, either.

“Zōbrios pōnte iprattas,” Acolyte Zūgis tells you, wringing his hands for good measure. The Dark One ate them all.

What a nervous man, you think. Since meeting him on the beach, he has been continuously anxious, ready to jump clear out of his skin at the slightest disturbance. You wonder if his path is best suited to dragonkeeping if he is so afraid of it.

“Pōntālosa sikagon kostis, yn jēdraro toliot dorolviktys se dorolviktys sittaksi.” His mouth twists. Sometimes they hatch by themselves… but that has become rarer and rarer over the years. Your stomach twists at this. There was once a time where dragons hatched aplenty upon the isle. No more, it seems. “Vermithor dārligon kostā, darilaros. Yn uēpys issa se zaldrīzāeksio bōso jēdo syt mijetas. Qopsa kessa, se avy hinikilāks.”

You can try to claim Vermithor, princess, he concludes. But he is old and has long since been without a rider. It will be difficult, and dangerous.

Neither Septa Marlow nor Ser Criston understand High Valyrian—but the name Vermithor agitates them, nonetheless.

“A dragon of such size and stature is not appropriate for a well-bred lady,” Septa exclaims, fingers like claws clasped together before her. “What of Silverwing? Good Queen Alysanne’s mount? Does it not reside here? ‘Tis far more suitable beast.”

The keeper shakes his head. “We believe Silverwing is gravid. She has shown much aggression as of late. The last of us to attempt approach…” The silence that hangs at the end of the sentence leaves no mistaking his meaning. He clears his throat. “Well. It is far too perilous at present. Vermithor is the princess’s best option.”

“The princess is a child,” Ser Criston says, expression flat and eyes flinty. “Vermithor is a dragon of war. I am sorry, princess”—he kneels before you, angling his head up so he can look directly at you, and one hand folds around your elbow—“but I cannot let you risk yourself so.”

You know what you are being told, albeit in a roundabout way. The despair renders you mute. What am I to do? What am I to do? You nod, an agreement to your sworn shield’s words, though your heart is scarcely in it.

“Perhaps on the morrow,” the keeper says, “we may… reattempt with the eggs, then. We have several, though they have been kept for some years now.”

Ser Criston makes his agreements to Acolyte Zūgis, entering into discussion with him and Septa Marlow as to the following day’s schedule. None of them so much as turn their faces to include you, despite the fact that you are central to their plans.

While they talk, another thought comes to mind. You wonder why none have so much as dared to broach another possibility—that there are three wild dragons upon the isle. Silverwing and Vermithor are not your only options.

Sleep is hard to come by, that same, pulsing sensation tingling through your limbs and keeping you awake.

Come, it seems to say. I am waiting.

You rise before the sun comes up. Septa Marlow is likely to be awake at this time, but she will not venture your way until the skies are bathed in light. Ser Criston does not begin his shift until an hour after you rise. His replacement is usually whomever can be spared.

It is even easier than usual to make your escape.

Dragonstone is an old fortress, and so there are a great many secret passages winding between rooms. You need only to check behind the tapestry along the inner wall to determine that an opening has been concealed. Brandishing the candle from your bedside, you slip into the looming maw that awaits.

Inside, it smells of damp and salt, and you can hear a faint, steady drip. It continues no matter which direction your feet take you, and you feel your breath stream from your mouth and nose in a cloud of warmth that gives the skin of your face and neck momentary respite from the wintry chill. The walls are rough-hewn, made for function rather than appeal, so you are careful where you place your hands.

Because you are so unfamiliar with the layout, you wander for what seems an age before you finally surface upon the outdoors, a dim glow emanating from between metal grates at the end of a dark tunnel. The hinges squeak shrilly as you push them open, shutting behind you with a clang. Your slippered feet sink into the sand upon the beach.

You do not know where you are headed—to find Vermithor or Silverwing, to find one of the wild ones, or simply to wander. All you know is that one of them is calling to you through the magic of old, the magic that ’Nyra and Papa have always said lives in the blood of the Targaryen line. It is how Papa knew that he was destined to be Balerion’s last rider. It is how ’Nyra found the courage to mount Syrax when she was so young. You feel it now, singing in your blood as it has since you crossed into the shallows surrounding the island.

Come and find me, it says. I am waiting.

You trudge along the beach, allowing the sand to sink into the opening of your shoes, to fill the small spaces between shoe and skin with stinging grit that collects between your toes and rubs to rawness. The wind whips at your hair and your robe—you did not bother to change from your evening wear—and the sound of the waves crash like thunder.

You walk. And, as you walk, you wait for the purpose to reveal itself, a part of you hoping that whomever you are meant to claim will find you.

You ought to be more careful of what you wish.

A dark shape swoops across the sky above you, casting you even further into shadow, and you hear the rumble of something powerful. The beat of its wings is great enough to be heard from a distance, you think, and stirs up the sand before you into a cloud of dirt and dust. The beast growls, deep and terrifying, raising the hairs on the back of your neck.

It lands ahead.

Oh, no. Oh, no.

The Cannibal.

He is enormous, far greater in size than Syrax, than Caraxes, than any dragon you have ever seen or read about. His scales are black—no—blacker than black, the complete absence of colour or brightness, and each muscle honed from years upon years of eking out his existence ripples below the skin. His lips peel back, exposing at least two rows of sharp, jagged teeth. Perfect for tearing me to bits, your mind supplies in your panic. His stocky frame hunches low, claws sunk into the sand, as though poised to attack, and he hisses, a rattling threat that fills you with the urge to run.

His eyes glow green. You feel it again.

Come. I am waiting.

What is it Ser Lysan said, again? If you want something, you must do whatever is in your power to achieve it.

Come. I am waiting.

It may be courage, it may be madness, but you are moving onward before you realise it. The dragon hisses again as you approach, and any moment you expect to be bathed in dragonfire or snapped up in his almighty jaws, but your footsteps remain as rapid as your heartbeat.

The attack does not come. The fire does not come.

Something more is at play here. You may only be twelve summers old, but this you know. A dragon as fierce as the Cannibal would never let a person so close as this under ordinary circumstances. Old magic thrums through the air, a tether forming between you and the form ahead. A bond. A claim.

You reach out a hand. Skin to scale. Heat that ought to burn courses through you, but you are safe. You feel his pulse, your pulse, pounding through dermis, reforming your own to match.

Your eyes well. “Gierior glaeson ñuhon avy rhaenagon jumptan,” you whisper. I have waited my whole life to meet you. In the rumble he releases, you think he must believe the same of you.

Dressed only in your nightgown, you make the climb up his wing. He lets you, chuffing irritably as you seek out the correct handholds and footholds to make your way up. It is entirely different from mounting Caraxes. This dragon is much, much larger, and so you are forced to actively coordinate your movements to ascend the perilous terrain. Still, there is enough of memory remaining to you of that day, years ago, that you can draw some reference from. You rely on those recollections to hoist yourself up. Finally, you are able to settle somewhat awkwardly between the blunted spikes below his neck.

From far off, you can hear faint voices. Atop the crest of the Cannibal’s shoulder, you look to the horizon. The sun has risen. The world is awake, which means that Ser Criston and Septa Marlow will be leading the search for their wayward princess.

It startles the dragon. Before you are ready—before you would even have dared to tell him to fly—he shifts, growling so deep that the vibrations buzz through your legs, your toes. You jostle where you have perched, gripping frantically to the spike in front of you as he sets off on a crawl that morphs to a run, building momentum to flap his wings up and up and up—

“Princess!” echoes through the breeze as you rise. Below, you see the forms of the guards, of Ser Criston, of Septa, growing smaller and smaller as the dragon—your dragon—takes to the air.

You keep hold of the Cannibal’s spike as he soars through the skies, letting the wind billow your hair about. It is both the same and so, so very different from your first flight. It is freezing up here, for one thing, and you can discern no sound but that of the air whistling so stridently in your ears that it is like a shriek, and the dragon below you is warm enough to keep the worst of the chill at bay. Your belly swoops and twists with each wingbeat, the momentum rocking you forward every time, but none of the discomfort is enough to tamp down the sheer exhilaration.

The Cannibal turns, revolving away from the distant line where sky and sea meet toward the island again. The change in direction gives you a momentary reprieve from the rush of air hindering all noise, and you hear something else.

Beneath your legs, beneath your skin, you feel it as the Cannibal bellows to the world, a roar that pierces the still of morning and announces to all that his wait is over. That he has claimed his rider, that you have claimed your mount—that you have done what no one else has been able to and emerged victorious.

That feeling—the one that has plagued you—has changed, you realise. You have found me, it seems to say.

Yes, you think, turning your head to admire the expanse of this creature, this being who is and was always meant to be yours. I have.

When you land, Ser Criston and Septa Marlow nearly shake you from your body with the force of their panic, their vexation, their “You do not ever run off like that, do you hear me, princess?” and their “Just wait until your father hears of this!” They try to dissuade you from your course, but the keepers wring their hands and mutter that the deed has been done—there is no unbinding what has been bound by the magic of old.

Still, their refrain is just as shocked, just as bewildered. “The Cannibal, princess,” they say, shaking their heads. “The Cannibal…”

“No,” you reply. “His name is Athfiezar.”

Dothraki is fairly new to you, ‘tis true, for Ser Lysan did not agree to teach you until well into your acquaintance. And there is a certain irony in the choice—many a person will surely raise their brows in question of your use of such a savage tongue, which is rather best suited for a dragon of his reputation. But the word—the name, for he has long gone without one, and it seems only right that he should have something of his own, free of the censure of old—seems apt enough. Love. That pure, uncorrupted kind, the kind you think you have been searching for your whole life, the kind you find in small moments that are never, ever enough for the gaping maw that is your heart awaiting someone to fill it. You just know the Cannibal—Athfiezar—is a creature with a soul like yours. How long has he gone without love?

Never again, you think. Not with me.

You hold onto that thought as Papa rails at you upon seeing the hulking behemoth touch upon the top of the Dragonpit, heralding your return to King’s Landing.

“You could have died! What in the blazes were you thinking, girl?” he yells.

He has never yelled at you before, and perhaps you might have cried once, but you keep firm to the memory of Athfiezar’s eyes upon yours, the life palpitating through his immense form into yours like some sort of cycle, elemental, mysterious. No matter what Papa says, no matter how he says it, it is as the keepers said. The deed is done.

The news spreads like wildfire, bringing with it a most unwelcome attention. For much of your life, you had been largely ignored by court and commons—now, with having claimed such a dragon for your own, many a considering eye falls upon you. Their thoughts are louder than if they spoke them: perhaps we have gotten the wrong measure of this one. Perhaps she is worth more notice than we had given her. Invitations to tea come to your door with a regularity that is almost predictable; and, maybe worse, many an enquiring lord approaches Papa with the pivotal question upon their lips: “When is she to be wed, Your Grace?”

Your mother was wed at eleven—it is not impossible that you should be given to some man to settle a treaty or forge an alliance in due course. It is your duty as princess, after all. One day, yes, but not now. Besides, all they truly desire is the power you have suddenly amassed. They do not want you.

You retreat into yourself, using all the courtesies Septa had imbued into you like plate steel to shield yourself from the worst of it. Save for your two freedoms—your Ser Lysan and your boy, Athfiezar—you commit to being the most polite, the most recalcitrant, the most dull creature you can be. You help ’Nyra with her boys where you can, for a useful girl is best kept than discarded, and your sister is the heir which means her rule will someday be law. You take on two ladies, noblewomen from houses in the Reach, in accordance with your stepmother’s wishes. You try your very best to devote time to each, spreading yourself between what is rapidly developing into entirely separate factions in the keep—the princess and the queen, the blacks and the greens, or so they are called. Such silly names, you think. And, over time, it all becomes less performative and more intrinsic. Your propriety is your defence, and you use it well.

But it will not last forever. One day—one day soon—you will be called in by Papa. You will be told that your life is no longer to be your own, but passed on into the care of a man you will call husband. You will be asked to choose he who will be your master, he who will use your womb to give his house sons and daughters of royal blood, and you will be expected to be glad for the opportunity to make the decision, that it was not taken out of your hands entirely.

You wait for the day, spending what evening hours you can in the sept entreating the gods for their intercession. Please, you think, on your knees before an effigy of the Maiden. Please. Deliver to me a husband who will love me as I am.

You wait, you hold your breath, and you pray.

“The claiming of the Cannibal came as a great shock to the realm, not least because of she who had claimed him. King Viserys’s younger daughter by his late Queen Aemma Arryn was by all accounts a diffident, well-mannered girl most unlike her elder sister… Several parties were of the view that the princess ought to be wed quickly to keep her mighty mount out of the hands of those considered less than desirable. However, it was not until the year of 126 A.C. that the king finally consented to the courtship of the girl, with many a man seeking her hand. Of those suitors, only three were truly deemed worthy—Lord Jason of House Lannister, Lord Denys of House Tyrell, and the princess’s own half-brother, the Prince Aegon.”

- 'Fire & Blood, Being a History of the Targaryen Kings of Westeros' by Archmaester Gyldayn

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[wpdarlingpan]

Hello! I recently follow you and read your writing of DC. I love it, your writing are really good! For a request, i have this idea...

Platonic yandere Damian wayne with twin sister reader. Maybe, when they were kids, he used to be hated her because she was excelent in everything and have a little care and love from Talia. But she really care for his brother and then Ra al-ghul put them to fight among themselves on a cliff to see who was going to be the future leader and in a bad move, they ended up hanging up in the cliff. Then his sister, not wanting to see his brother die, brings him back to the surface and she ends up falling. Damian didn't know how to react and only receive a slap from his mother .

How about, after Damian goes to live with Bruce and being the new Robin, in one of the fights with Slade and his partner, this partner decides to let himself be trapped so that Slade can escape. In the Batcave, they take off the mask to discover that it is their sister, but someone very different, with another personality, cold, somewhat insane, hostile and very intelligent like that, because she was submerged in the Lazarus pit by Slade, who consider as a parent. Maybe Damian will try to reason with her and apologize for what he did to her. She tells him that it is too late and a smoke bomb explodes to reveal that Slade came for his daughter. She, determined, goes with him, but Damian tries to stop her, but is defeated and tells him that he should never have saved him, to see how Damian tears up and before leaving, he laughs and says "I didn't know that demons cry "

it could be possible? Thanks!!

Ukht: Sister in Arabic

Title: Not Again

Talia was surprised when she gave birth to twins. The boy a few minutes sooner than the girl. She was glad as well as they had two lethal weapons instead of one.

Two children with the blood of Talia Al Ghul and The Batman.

There was a boy she named Damian and she name the girl Y/N. She cared for them a short time after they were born then they were cared for mostly by maids.

As they grew older Damian began to despise his younger sister. She was perfect at everything and he was always second best. He believed she got all the love of their mother and grandfather and left him with none.

They were 10 when they were dropped at the top of the tallest mountain on their land and told to fight to determine the next Leader of the League Of Assassins. They were equals. They fought for hours as they each met each attack with one of equal force same with defense. They were bloody and bruised and Y/N couldn’t bare to hurt her brother anymore. But we she was about to give, she didn’t notice how close to the edge they were. The stood facing each other with their feet barely not over the edge but as Damian attack he knocked himself over the edge because he lost balance as he grew angry and let his emotions over ride his training. But as he fell he grabbed onto his sisters leg and she was pulled down with him. The didn’t fall far as they ended hanging onto a small ledge not to far from the top of the mountain.

Y/N knew what she had to do, but did she have the strength to do it is what she was questioning to herself.

She grabbed the rope she had attached to her belt and used one hand to toss it up and luckily for her it landed around a tall rock while the other end flew back down. The two ends of the rope were next to her and she leaned over and attached the rope to Damians belt as he struggled to hold on. He looked over once he felt the weight on his belt and he looked back at her questioningly.

“I love you Damian.” She said as she grabbed onto one end of the rope, pulling Damian up to the top as she used as much of the weight she could to work as a pulley system. She didn’t want him to bed up falling back down so as soon as she saw he was safely to the top, or as safe as you could be on the top of the mountain. She let go.

Damian screamed as he saw his sister fall beneath the clouds to her death, and he couldn’t do anything. He hated her all of his life for reasons she could not control and he didn’t realize that he never triplet hated her until he realized he never had been without her. She patched him up after fights in the middle of the night so he couldn’t protest, gave his pieces of food, tried to show him love but he wouldn’t accept it, not from her. 

He regretted it now.

A assassin flew a helicopter up to the mountain with Talia in the back going to collect Damian. Once she arrived and Damian had fought the pain and walked onto the helicopter, Talia slapped him sending him to the floor with a red hand print on his cheek. He wouldn’t cry, never.

They arrived back at the compound and Talia led him to Ra’s. Of course they talked about everything he did wrong then made him practice for 5 hours until it was perfect. After they sent him away to sleep he had nightmares of his sisters death, and how he hated her all those years.

The next day he was sent to live with his father after the league was attacked and Ra’s was killed. His mother handed him off and later on he decided to stay with his father even after he was to be brought back to the league. It had been a few months since then and Batman and Robin were in the middle of a fight with Slade otherwise known as deathstroke. He was a powerful force to be reckoned with. But even worse now, as he had a sidekick.

A fully masked figure wearing fighting gear and knifes strapped to their thigh, not to mention the very sharp Katana they were wielding, it was a difficult task for them both. But Batman dodged a stroke from the blade and the blade hit a gas pipe, as it was about to explode Slade ran off and Batman was about to go follow before she tackled him to the ground. They fought for a good couple seconds before Robin joined the fight and she was knocked out.

Batman and Robin swung out of the warehouse with Batman holding the masked figure as the pipe exploded leaving behind a burning building.

They put her in handcuffs and put her in the back of the batmobile as they drove home.

“Who do you think she is Batman?”

“I’m not sure.”

They drove home in silence, when did Slade get a partner?

Once in the bat cave they tied her to a chair before Alfred fixed up their cuts. The figure began to slowly wake up and she struggled in the chair before settling while staring at the duo.

“Why were you with Slade? A partner? Sidekick? Apprentice?” She doesn’t respond and continued to glare. The Bat stared right back and couldn’t help but think she was very short, just a inch or two below Damian. Her eyes seemed young as well but didn’t hold any innocence.

“You heard him, who are you?!” Damian demanded by Robin put a hand on his shoulder

They still didn’t respond. But, an idea came to mind. If she gave away her identity it would distract them enough for her to initiate a plan.

“Take off my mask Damian and see.” She spoke ominously while they both looked in shock that she knew his identity. He got over it and quickly ripped off her mask and he was staring into eyes alike to his own.

“Y-Y/N?”

“Miss me? I’m sure you didn’t.”

“Who is she Damian?”

“He never told you about me?” She asked with a fake point then proceeded to smirk.

“Damian?” Batman questioned further but all domain could do was stare.

“I’m his twin sister.” If there was a time the bat had showed that he was shocked it would have been when he found out about Damian, but this one rivaled it.

“W-What?”

He looked over to Damian but Damian turned away.

“Yep, his little sister only by a few minutes.”

Damian and Bruce took off the masks looked at her. Bruce saw the resemblances, between Damian and her, between her and himself.

Damian knelt in front of her and stared into her eyes.

“Forgive me ukht, please forgive me.” Tears gathered in his eyes surprising y/n. Damian crying? That’s not possible.

“Forgive you for what Damian?” Bruce questioned staring at his children.

Y/N had her lips pursed so Damian responded.

“Our mother and grandfather put us against each other in a mountain… it was a fight to the death to determine who would be the heir to the league. We fought for hours before I let me emotions lead and I fell. I grabbed onto y/n and she came down with me. We felt onto a ledge with barely enough room for us to hold on.” Bruce’s eyes are wide and slightly teary. “She grabbed her rope and made a pulley system. I was slipping, she tied it to my belt and jumped, telling me she loved me. Pulling me to the top as she Plummeted down. She fell, or rather let go so I could live.”

“And yet here we are.” She spoke snarky glaring at Damian.

“How are you here then?” Bruce questioned feeling as if he knew the answer. Jason was a standing example.

“You already know Bruce. The Lazarus Pit. Just like how it brought back Robin #2.” She smirked as he glared slightly. Damian glared back at their father as he needed to calm down.

“But did you know something Batman?” 

“What is it Y/N?”

“We always have a back up plan.”

With that the wall bursted open and Y/N shook of the robes she had been working away with a small knife. She held up a small tracker she had on her and smirked at their surprise faces. The duo threw on their masks even though their identity’s were already known.

Slade walked in with swords at the ready and he threw one to Y/N.

“Nice to see you.” Slade smirked at her.

“To you as well.”

“Ready to go?” He questioned her ignoring the bat and the bird.

“Ready when you are.” They nodded slightly and

Slade attacked Batman while she got Damian. With the help of a smoke Bomb and their disorientation from the information that she was alive, they were fairly easy to take down. They knocked the duo down to the floor and tied their legs together, just to give them enough time to escape.

“You can’t go! Not again.” Damian yelled with tears streaming down his face. He couldn’t lose her, not again.

“Wow look at that Slade.”

“What is it Y/N?” He played along as they turns towards the whole in the wall.

“I didn’t know Demons could cry. You learn something new everyday.”

Slade tossed another smoke Bomb into the cave as the last dispersed, distracting Damian and Bruce since they had almost gotten out of the rope, and got far away from the duo.

Damian stared at the hole in the wall in a mix of anger and sadness. Bruce in shock still.

Damian sobbed and fell to the floor in tears.

“Not again.”

~*~

Hopefully you liked it! Sorry it wasn’t too Yandere, I wasn’t sure how to make him a Yandere with this. But I how it was still good. Thank you for reading and I hope you have a great day! ♡

[hauntedbythefanficsofmypast]

BatMom- Jason Todd

Masterlist

Part 1

Part 2[Here]

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Jason Todd, Her Toughest Bird.

Marinette paced the Batcave anger clear on her face as she waited for Batman to get back with his newest Robin. She couldn’t believe Batman would go this far, he knew damn well that wasn’t his name to give away. Her thoughts were interrupted by the Batmobile skidding into the cave and parking. Batman and the young boy getting out, the new Robin took one look at her before sizing her up with a glare.

“Who's the angry lady B?” He said looking ready for a fight, which amused Marinette slightly. But her gaze focused on Batman as she upped her glare.

“Hello B, we need to talk.” She said stiffly before looking down at the boy with a stern look. “Alone.” She said firmly gesturing to the changing rooms. Jason huffed, pulling off his mask walking passed her indignantly. Marinette wasted no time tearing into Bruce the moment the door was closed. 

An hour later Marinette walked through the halls of the manor a frown still on her face. She stopped outside an opened door looking in on the newly adopted Jason Todd-Wayne. “Kid,” She called out catching his attention. “want to go out for ice cream?” Jason scoffed, closing his book giving her a deadpan look.

“Ya great idea let me go out with a woman that obviously doesn’t like me.” He said sarcastically waving his hand at her in a go away gesture. “Why would I even want to go with you in the first place?” Marinette smirked leaning against the door.

“First off I don’t know you enough to not like you, my anger at B will not be dragged over to you. “Second off we are going to Pico’s Ice Cream Gotham’s world renown Ice Cream Parlor, over two hundred flavors, I intend for us to eat so much Alfred has to pick us up. Finally B is paying and after your stunt with his tires, something tells me you’d be more than happy to waste his money.” She held up her hand showing Bruce’s Amex Black card held between her index and middle fingers. “So are you in or not kid?” Jason smirked, placing his book down and jumping out of his chair.

“Oh I am so down! Let's go get sick to our stomachs with Bruce paying!”

An hour later Alfred had arrived at Pico’s giving both of them a disappointed glare as they climbed into the shortened limo he had brought. Marinette and Jason laid on the floor facing each other, curled in on themselves.

“Was it worth it Miss Marinette, Master Jason.”

“Definitely.”

“Hell yes.” 

The two groaned out their response together shortly followed by a yelp from Jason after she had flicked his nose.

“Watch your language.” She said causing him to grumble while Alfred simply sighed, closing the door. A few moments later they felt the limo begin to move. Marinette closed her eyes trying to calm her churning stomach, well aware of Jason’s eyes on her.

“Why were you so mad at Bruce?” He asked softly, wanting to know yet not at the same time. Marinette was silent for a moment before opening her eyes, meeting his own. 

“B gave away something that wasn’t his to give away. Dick hadn’t let go over the title just yet, and Bruce in his anger ripped it away from him and gave it to you instead. He really hurt Dickie, that’s why I was so angry at him. Not at you, you’re innocent in this Jason.” She said softly groaning when Alfred took a sharp turn, showing his displeasure with his two current charges. “My anger is all towards B right now.” Jason nodded thinking over what she had said before he had another question.

“Why do you call him B, why not just say Bruce?” Marinette was silent before looking away with a slight blush.

“B stands for bitch and he knows it.” She said causing Jason to grin at her.

“Language.”

“Shut it little birdie.”

———————————<3————————————

Jason Todd, The Night Joker took him.

She sat at the door curled up crying begging for forgiveness, and Jason-Jason couldn’t find it in himself to give it. This woman, this woman had caused this, Sheila Haywood was no saint. No she was far from it, and unfortunately she was his mother. She was the one that gave birth to him, and now she’d be the one to help kill him. A dark part of him was happy she’d go with him but he’d never admit that out loud. His thoughts strayed from his so called mother as he watched the timer slowly countdown. Instead he thought of the one woman in his life that always tried. That was always there for him, that always stood up for him, and helped him build a relationship with his predecessor. He thought of the terrible fight they had, though he knew that it was mostly on his part. He had gotten too hard headed and Marinette was always stubborn and unwilling to bend with things she believed in. His Marinette wanted to help him meet his mother, she did even though it hurt her slightly and he had known it. She had helped him unlike Bruce who refused after the fight they had had, she helped even though it hurt. Yet he persisted and pushed and pushed until they finally found the women. Jason had insisted that he left for Ethiopia right away, planning to go alone. Ever protective Marinette had refused, told him he would not go alone and that they would go together.  She said she’d have everything ready at the end of the month, but that was not soon enough for him. He snapped at her demanding that she stayed out of it. He declared it was a family matter, and ignored the hurt in her eyes. She had told him not to be hard headed and that she was coming along. Only to be silenced and told that she was not going, he was being so stupid, he let his temper get the best of him. He told her she wasn’t family, that she was nothing but the woman that chased after his adoptive Father. Trying to find any excuse to have his attention, he regretted it so much when he watched her close in on herself. Her blue eyes dulled so much they looked gray, her ever perfect posture faltered but he hadn’t cared. He turned and left her there all alone. Just like he was now, all alone wishing that his mom was there. Wishing that his Marinette, his Mom was hugging him and running her fingers through his red hair.

“Jay-bird.” 

That was it, that's mom’s voice.

“Jay-bird, I don’t know if you can hear me, Gods I hope you do.”

He could hear the shake in her voice as his eyes landed on what he thought was his broken communicator. 

She’s crying, she should never cry.

“Bruce is on his way my little Fire-Cracker.”

She said choking back a sob, Jason twitched in his bond moving closer towards the communicator. His body protested every move as he made his way.

“Dickie isn’t on Earth right now but I told Clark he better get his ass off planet and to him as soon as possible.”

Jason let out a pain chuckle at her swearing, she rarely did it and it always surprised him to hear. Foul language was his thing; it should’ve never fallen from his mom’s mouth. Especially for the fact that she disliked crude language.

“Jay?”

She heard him, she can hear him.

“I’m here.”

He said his voice horse as he shed a few tears.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry I snapped at you, after everything you did, I hurt you so much. I’m so sorry Mom. I should’ve stayed, I should’ve listened, I’m so sorry. I just want to be with you. I want to be with you so bad mommy.”

He said desperate for the women to know, desperate for forgiveness from his mother.

“Jay, my sweet baby bird, it's okay. Oh baby, I love you so much my beautiful boy. You wanted to find your birth mother and I will never hold that against you. You have nothing to be sorry for, you hear me?”

Nine Seconds.

Jason’s eyes remain on the timer.

“Mommy, I love you. Thank you for everything.”

Eight Seconds.

“Don’t-”

Marinette’s voice cracked as she cried into her hands.

Seven Seconds.

“Please tell Dickie I love him and he was an amazing brother.”

Six Seconds.

“Don’t-Don’t say goodbye, this is goodbye Jason! You hear me! this isn’t goodbye.”

She finished her voice in a pained whisper.

Five Seconds.

“Tell Bruce he’s an asshole, but I loved him.”

Four Seconds.

“Tell Alfred I love him too.”

Jason was crying uncontrollably as he spoke.

Three Seconds.

“Mom?”

Two Seconds.

“Yes baby boy?”

One Second.

“Don’t blame yourself.”

Marinette stared at the casket, unable to console herself and stop the tears. Her baby boy was in there, her tough little bird. He was gone and she wasn’t there, she failed him. A mother is meant to protect, and she didn’t protect. She should’ve followed him to Ethiopia, she shouldn’t have let her feeling of hurt get the best of her. A sob fell from her lips as her shoulders shooking, her posture breaking as she curled in on herself. Her baby bird will never fly again, he will never read her poetry or discuss his favorite books with her again. No, now she’d have to visit him here, for the rest of her life. Now she’d have to talk to a gravestone every time she saw her baby bird.

———————————<3————————————

Jason Todd, Red Hood Finds her.

He watched her for weeks ever since he had officially come back to Gotham. Watching her as Ladybug, Lady Noir, and Marinette, watching the woman he had called mother. The mother that had seemingly moved on from him, along with his so called Father and brother. He saw her spend countless nights with his replacement, she had never gone on patrol with him as much as she did with the new one. She, of course, didn’t realize she was being watched. Old age he supposed his once mother looked much older since the last time he saw her, before he died. Black hair now greying and everything so perhaps he could not fault her for not noticing.

This night was special though, for weeks she had been fighting him with the so-called Batfamily. Tonight, exactly three days after he shot the replacement, she would find out that he was her ‘Baby-bird’.

He watched as she picked up the phone, no doubt Bruce or Alfred, his amusement faded when tears began to fall. He always hated when she cried, she was always so happy and collected. She rarely cried and when she did it was so heart wrenching, because Marinette cried with her entire body. He watched as she dropped the phone and rushed to the balcony, he saw the small red and black Gods following her. Heard her voice crying out as she threw the doors open.

“Plagg, Claws out!” 

She transformed and was traveling across the rooftops in minutes. She was making her way towards Bludhaven only to be met halfway by Nightwing. Immediately breaking down into her eldests arms.

“It's him, it's him, it's him. It's my babybird! It’s my baby! It's my baby!” 

Her cries caused Red Hood to flinch as he turned his gaze away from the mourning mother. He took one last glance before turning away returning to his current safe house.

———————————<3————————————

Jason Todd, Saving him from Himself.

“Don’t do this.” Her voice called out, it was calm as always yet filled with pain. She limped toward him holding her side tenderly in an attempt to stop the bleeding from her wound. “Don’t do this Baby boy.” Red Hood growled leveling the gun on her as he turned away from the downed third Robin. He froze the moment he saw Marinette, not Lady Noir, not Ladybug, but Marinette, his Marinette. Beaten, Bloody, and Bruised, all caused by him and his men. She didn’t even flinch at the gun pointed at her even though it was clear that her injury was a bullet wound.

“Shut up you fucking liar.” He growled out red tinting his vision once again as he thought of her protecting his replacement. Thought of all the videos of her with little Tim Drake, the newest Robin, all the pictures of her at school events. The actual adoption of not just him, but of her perfect first son. That one had hurt him the most, she had adopted them but not him.

“I am a liar.” She admitted softly continuing towards her son. Looking up at the young man, but always her babybird. “I am. I promised you that I’d always be with you, that I’d protect you. I failed you and I have blamed myself every day. I should’ve followed you, I should’ve found you, I should’ve protected you. But I failed you instead.” She stopped with the gun barely an inch away from her forehead, and for a second she marveled at how tall her baby was now compared to her. She wished she could see his face, see how handsome her beautiful boy had turned out. While Dick had grown into a beautiful young man, she knew her tough little bird would grow into a very handsome man. “You have every right to be angry with me, but not him. He looked up to you, still does, he pulled Bruce, Dick, and me out of the dark place we were in after your death. Not once did he wish to replace you, not once did he shy away from mentioning you. If you want to take your anger out on somebody, make it me.” She closed her blue bell eyes picturing her little red headed bird with his mischievous smile, and love for literature. Marinette leaned her head forehead allowing the barrel of his gun to press against her head. Her free hand shook as she reached out, caressing the red helmet with her knuckles. She opened her eyes again, tears staining to fall from the now dulled grayish blue. “Just remember I love you my little Fire-Cracker, though you’re not exactly little anymore are you.” She choked out holding back a sob as she let her hand drop her legs shaking from exhaustion. “If you’re going to kill us then take me first. Please I don’t think I can bear to watch another one of my birds die.” She barely finished before exhaustion caught up to her and she began to collapse. She didn’t hit the ground though, no she was pulled into strong arms. Arms that held her tightly cradling her and providing safety. Red Hood stared down at the woman in his arms, the red having long faded as tears fell hidden by the helmet. Jason Todd-Wayne held his hurt mother in his arms as he let himself cry.

“Stupid woman, Stupid Mom.” He whispered before moving her so that she laid beside her newest bird. “Don’t say a word you fucking replacment.” He growled out as said bird looked up at him in surprise. “You better fucking protect her or else I will kill you.” He growled glaring at the small shy smirk on the bird’s face.

“Watch your language, you know her thoughts on cussing.”

———————————<3————————————

Jason Todd, Bruce’s Death.

Jason Todd-Wayne sat atop Wayne Enterprises staring down at the city he was born into. Bruce was gone, he was gone and Jason didn’t know what to think of it. Dick was taking up the cowl, making Bruce’s actual son his new Robin. Tim had taken over Wayne Enterprises, the youngest CEO in the world. Meanwhile here was Jason still legally dead, and estranged from the family. With no idea what to do with his life, he had slowly waned from killing doing the same with her men. They very rarely killed, only those that truly deserved it, but ever since that night since he cradled his mother’s broken form. He hasn’t seen the family, he only knew of Bruce’s death from the video he had sent to the family. He tensed as a body sat down beside him, curling into her jacket. 

“Hello Handsome Birdie.” She said softly reaching up and caressing his cheek. “I’ve missed you.” Jason grabbed her hand holding it gently and rubbing the back of her hand with his thumb.

“I’ve missed you too Mom.” He admitted softly both turning to look out at the city in silence together. “Is he really gone?” He asked, not really wanting to know the answer. Marinette leaned against her son allowing her eyes to drift to their held hands.

“Tim-Tim says he might not be and is trying to find him. Dick, my poor bird is hurting so much he is scared to hope that Bruce isn’t dead. Then there is Damian, oh he is going to be a tough Birdie to crack.” Jason smiled softly squeezing her hand.

“Well you managed to raise me, you'll have no problem with him.” He said jokingly, causing Marinette to laugh shaking her head.

“You didn't call me ‘Father’s newest whore’ and then immediately attempt to kill me.”

“He did want?!” 

Jason asked with a protective glare on his face as he turned to his mom.

“Oh hush Fire-Cracker, I’ll get through to him.”

———————————<3————————————

Jason Todd, The Outlaws.

Red Hood could feel her eyes on him and his two companions. The fact that they didn’t notice was both irritating yet caused a bit of pride to fill his chest for only his mom could hide so easily.

“Kori, Roy,” He called out, pulling his helmet off his mask soon following revealing Jason Todd-Wayne to the night sky. “We have a visitor.” He said, turning to look at the shadows where Lady Noir resided.

“Getting better every day aren’t you Jay-bird?” She finally announced her presence to her son’s friends. She knew the both of them Roy better than Kori, it had been Dick that introduced them. Before the split in their friendships, she hated having to comfort her bird of the loss of his older brother. Lady Noir wouldn’t let her hold it against him though, or hold it against Kori.

“Hello mom” Jason said affectionately as he walked over to Lady Noir. She smiled, dropping her transformation and allowing her son to pull her into a tight hug. Marinette reached up rubbing his cheek with her thumb. “Come to make sure, I’m not getting into too much trouble?” He asked, teasingly causing her to roll her eyes.

“No, I simply wanted to see how my son’s new team worked together. “ She combed his hair to the side gently with her fingers before grabbing his gloved hand in hers. “My birds rarely team up with others outside the family.” Jason glanced away a little nervous squeezing her hand gently.

“Well, what do you think? Of my small team here?” Marinette smiled softly glancing back at the two that had joined her son, before looking back to her son.

“I think you have found some very good friends Fire-Craker. They will care for you as you care for them.” She leaned up on her tiptoes, huffing slightly when Jason still had to lean down for her, and kissed her son’s cheek. “Be good to them and you shall have a strong team.” keep them safe. They will do the same for you, now run along my tough little bird.”

“I’m not little anymore.”

“Hush.”

“Yes Mom.”

———————————<3————————————

Jason Todd, Returning to the Family.

Jason stuck his hand firmly in his pockets as he stared up at the manor. Marinette and Dick had both told him he should come for the holidays. If it had been just Duck he would have blown it off, but he’d hurt his mom too much in the past to do it to her. He didn’t want to go in, his relationship with Bruce was still incredibly rocky, and he really didn’t like the Demon brat. Though somehow his mom and older brother had both become rather fond of the brat. He shook his head and squared his shoulders walking towards the door, only to turn around and take the steps back down the stairs.

“I can’t do this.” He growled out kicking the snow glaring at it frustrated. “How can this be so hard! Just walk through the damn door, say hello to Alfred hand over your coat and then immediately find mom. Give her the stupid gift, then sneak out when the others distract her.” He said to himself, but he didn’t turn around he just continued to glare at the ground, his hands shaking slightly in his jacket pockets.

“Or, just putting this out there, you could turn around, walk through the door with me and spend Christmas with your family. A family which has been nervous to see if you’ll actually come tonight.” Marinette called out from her place on the steps behind him. Her cardigan wrapped tightly around her to chase away the cold. Jason turned slightly looking at her sheepishly until he realized she didn’t have a jacket on. “Personally I prefer my idea, way better than you sneaking away from us.” Jason glared slightly walking up to her as he unzipped his jacket.

“What are you doing out here with only a cardigan? I seem to remember you always complaining that I’d get sick if I didn’t wear a jacket!” He pulled his off wrapping it around Marinette holding back a snort over it reaching her knees. Marinette glared slightly as if knowing his thought process and turned up her nose indignantly huffing. “You’ll catch your death out here without a jacket Jason! Jason don’t forget your hat! Jason gloves are not uncool they make sure your fingers don’t get frostbite!” Jason said repeating all the phrases she had used on him when he was just twelve. Marinette reached out pinching his ear slightly causing him to wince, and pout at her, though he’d never admit it.

“I am your mother, young man. I have every right to make sure you wear proper attire for winter. And apparently I should have said it more as it appears, the only thing you were wearing is your jacket.” Jason rubbed his ear after she let go grumbling to himself about annoying mothers.

“Why did you come out here? How did you know I was here?” He finally asked before wrapping his arm around her shoulders walking her towards the door. He knew his mother never did good in the cold, a side effect of being the Champion of a Ladybug Goddess. Marinette huffed, shaking her head, giving him a pointed look.

“Timmy and I sat watching you stand outside for five minutes before he suggested I came and got you.” She smiled as Alfred opened the door for them. “That and Alfred had been standing at the door for a good ten minutes and I decided that ten minutes was enough.” Jason smiled apologetically at Alfred, hugging the elderly butler.

“Hi Alfred, I missed you.” He said softly, smiling brighter when the man hugged him back.

“And I you Master Jason, now come join the family. I shall take your coat from Mistress Marinette.”

Jason raised an eyebrow looking over at his mom who shook her head fondly.

“He insists that Bruce is going to marry me one day. It’s the only bit of denial I’ve seen him in, I shan’t mention it to him however.” She said with a mischievous smile, winging at her son. “Besides Bruce’s face when he brings it up is hilarious. Now come the boys are eager to see you.” She corrected herself after Jason’s pointed look. “Fine Tim and Dick are excited to see you. Damian doesn’t want to share me and Bruce can’t emotion so he hasn’t said it but he is thinking it.”

———————————<3————————————

Jason Todd, Alive Again.

Jason paced his room in the manor mumbling to himself while Kori and Roy sat on his bed watching him. Today was the day, he had agreed to announce that he had survived the explosion all those years ago. They had even come up with a rather ingenious cover story on where he had been. Though that was most his replacement, the kid was wicked smart.

“I can’t do this.” He said turning to Kori and Roy with a pleading look, as he gripped his hair with his hands. “Kori, get me out of here, please.” He said softly though they could both hear the panic in his tone. Kori chuckled standing up and walking over to him. She gently pried his hands from his hair gesturing for Roy to grab the hair brush. 

“X’Hal, Jason, you are overthinking this, and panicking. You can do this, I know it for you are not weak. You know you want to do this, doing this means spending more time with them.Yes, yes that’s not why you are doing this.” She said rolling her eyes when he opened his mouth to argue. She took the hair brush Roy held out with a bright smile. “Jason, this is a most joyess occasion! After today you can spend more time with your K’norfka, and Roy and I know you want to go places with her more than anything.” Jason huffed letting her brush out his hair hold his face as she tilted his head side to side.

“She is not my nanny Kori, she’s my mother.” Kori pinned him with a look as she squeezed his cheeks gently leaning forward.

“On my planet K’norfka, also means guardian. Of which she is, correct?” Jason huffed before nodding his head.

“Yes, yes, you are correct.” Kori smirked triumphantly before kissing him briefly and releasing his face. “Roy and I will be here waiting for you when you are done. Isn’t that right?” Roy nodded, wrapping an arm around her waist, smirking at his boyfriend and girlfriend.

“Oh we will be here, but I don’t know. From the look on Miss Marinette’s face we won’t see you for a while.” Roy said nodding to the door, where Marinette stood watching them. She slowly made her way over to the trio.

“Mom! I can, I can explain. Roy, Star, and I-were-uh-were really good friends-well no we are actually-well.” He was silenced by Marinette’s hand on his cheek, causing him to finally meet her eyes. Understanding and love shining brightly in her eyes, as she rubbed his cheek with her thumb, marveling at her tough little bird all grown up.

“You couldn’t have picked anyone better Jay-bird. They have proved themselves remarkably well, and have shown their love for you my sweet bird. And that’s all that a mother can ask for in life, that their baby is happy and loved.” Jason teared up as he leaned down wrapping his mom into a tight hug hiding his face in her shoulder, causing the women to giggle. Marinette softly stroked his hair resting her cheek against his head. She looked over to the two her son had chosen her smile not wavering but Roy and Kori could read her eyes. Happiness, acceptance, and a little bit of love shining in them as she silently thanked her son’s precious people.

“Now, let’s go. It’s time for Jason Todd-Wayne to enter the world again. This time though I’ll finally get to adopt you.”

———————————<3————————————

Jason Todd, A Prince Consort?

Jason stared at himself in the mirror tugging on the traditional Tamaranean clothing. He still couldn’t believe this was happening, Kori wasn’t even the Queen anymore. Yet her, Roy, and him had all been carted away to her home planet by her brother. News had spread far of her proposal to the two, and her home planet wanted to witness the marriage. Only two months after they became engaged they were getting married, and his family wasn’t even there.

“Lost in thought, Birdie.” 

“Just thinking about how my mom is going to kill me-Mom?!” He turned quickly looking at his mother, dressed in a lavender purple dress, obviously of her own design, that held elements of the Tamaranean attire.

“Surprise.” She said softly with a twinkle in her eye as she walked over. “Oh look at you, my tough little bird is getting married.” She smoothed out his clothing, a tearful smile on her face. “Koriand’r had a feeling her brother would insist on this. So she made sure that the family would also be picked up, she also gave me a few different items of Tamaranean clothing, so that I could make my own clothing.” Jason smiled at the mention of his soon to be wife.

“She is amazing, her and Roy.” He whispered softly, a smile taking over his face. Marinette watched him as a single happy year fell from her face.

“Gosh, first Dickie and now you. Now I just need to have Timmy and Dami find someone that loves them unconditionally. Then I could die happily knowing my sons are loved.” 

“Don’t joke about that mom, you won’t be dying for a very long time.” Jason said, grabbing her hand and squeezing it. “Besides demon brat find someone, please.” 

“Jason.” Marinette said with a warning note in her tone causing Jason to grin at her. Tikki coughed, finally gaining their attention.

“Oh not again. Tikki stop out shining me will you!”

Marinette said smiling playfully at her dear friend. Tikki smiled a twinkle in her eye as she shook her head.

“No I don’t think I will Mari!” She flew up kissing Jason on the forehead just like she had done a year ago for her bug’s first bird. “I grant you and your mates Good luck and Fortune in your future together. Cherish each other always, I am proud of you, even if you’re a troublesome bird.” Marinette smiled softly looking up at her second son, her tough bird, her Fire-Craker.

“I am proud of you too Jason. You’ve grown into such a handsome young man, and have found yourself the loves of your life. That’s all a mother can ask for in life.”

“How much are my brothers going to tease me over being a Prince Consort.”

“Oh so much, that we’re thinking of jokes on the way here. A little scary watching Timmy and Dami work together, but you know Dickie, he can bring anyone together.”

Jason snorted rolling his eyes, Plagg chose this moment to show himself grinning at Jason.

“So, you’re gonna be a Trophy Husband now kid?”

“Plagg!”

“Ow! Oh come on Sugar-cube! Ow!-It was a joke!”

@mythogaychic

[muzawrites]

Carrying On (Jay Park Mafia AU)

Summary: Its been said that in times of tragedy new relationships emerge and become stronger, when tragedy strikes we seek connection it is in our nature.  How does the loss of their father affect the relationship between Jay and his adopted sister, Amara. Does it strengthen it? Or does it reveal things which were once hidden?

AN:  This is the first story I’ve ever posted, constructive criticism is always welcome

Fifty-one.... fifty-two…. fifty-three…. fifty-four…. fifty-five… damn this is really not working. Why do they always make it seem like counting sheep helps you fall asleep? I checked the clock again- 12:05am. Sighing, I rolled over to the cooler side of my bed and let my mind wonder to the last 2 weeks, the worst 2 weeks of my life as far as I can remember. My adopted father and leader of the most powerful mafia clan in South Korea had passed away, leaving his only son Jae-beom (aka Jay) in charge of his empire.

I don’t remember too much from my childhood before I was adopted but from the snippets I do remember and what I’ve been told, it wasn’t good. I was found by Jay’s father going through garbage outside one of the restaurants the family owns at the age of 10, having been abandoned by my mother for being a mixed-race baby, I guess she couldn’t deal with having a half black half Korean child any longer. According Jay’s father I reminded him of the daughter he had lost a couple years prior when she and her mother (his wife/Jay’s mother) had falling ill and both passed away. In the back of my head I always felt like some sort of ‘replacement child’ for the daughter he had lost, even though he never made me feel like it, even Jay made me feel like his little sister even though it took a bit of time for him to get use to me as he was 16years old when I was “brought into the family” but over time we became very close, even naming me his co-right hand along with his best friend Simon. And of course he always took his role as the protective big brother a little too seriously with some of my boyfriends throughout high school and varsity. They would break up with me after a few weeks with either a broken nose or blackened eye.

I sighed and rolled over one more time before giving up and getting out of bed to make a cup of tea or something stronger to help me fall asleep. I threw a long silk robe over my sleep chemise to conserve some decency just in case one of the guards was roaming around. As I walked down the hall, I noticed Jay’s bedroom door slightly open with the light inside shining through. After softly knocked I pushed the door to find him sitting on the couch facing the fireplace with the coffee table filled with presumably work papers, “Shouldn’t you be sleeping?” he asked without turning around, his full attention on the fire before him. “Shouldn’t you?” I rebutted as I grabbed the empty whiskey glass in his hand, walked over to the mini bar in his room to get him a refill and me a glass of his strongest whiskey on the rocks. He was still wearing the black slacks and black dress shirt he wore earlier in the day with the tie thrown somewhere in the room and his top two buttons undone.

“Seems we both can’t fall asleep huh” he said, as I handed him his glass. He mumbled a soft thanks as I sat down next to him. “Seems like” I replied leaning into his shoulder and staring into the flames with him. For some time, nothing could be heard but the fire crackling and the occasional clinking of ice against glass as we took sips of our drinks. “So, what happens now?” I asked, finally breaking the silence. He sighed, running his hand over his face. “In a few days, we meet with the heads of the families underneath us to continue business as usual” he answered, gulped down the rest of his drink and placed the glass on the side table as to not jolt me from his shoulder. “Can’t believe he’s gone” I whispered.

“Neither can I” he responded, closing his eyes and leaning his head against the back of the couch. Jay had been prepped to be the leader of the family organisation since he turned 13 and now at the age of 32, he was more than ready to take over and I had no doubt he would do great things in this position but the fact of our father’s passing was still heavy in our hearts. I gulped down the rest of my drink as well and placed my glass on coffee table. I stretched out my back and neck, unconsciously pushing my chest out against the silk of my robe. Long gone were the days of the scrawny little girl who first joined the family; I had grown into a woman with curves in all the right places, soft caramel skin which glowed under the light of the fire. From the corner of my eye, I notice Jay intensely watching me, not being able to decipher the look like I usually would be able to I pushed it aside.

“Can I have a hug?” I asked, giving him my best puppy dog eyes and pout. He chuckled while getting up and opening his arms up for me. I quickly jumped into his arms and wrapped my arms around his neck before he could change his mind. He wrapped his arms around my waist a bit lower than they usually would be. For some reason this hug felt different from every other hug we’ve shared, but still felt warm, safe and like home. “I’ll never let anything or anyone hurt you” he suddenly confessed into my hair as he placed a soft kiss on the crown of my head, I looked up to find his dark brown eyes staring into mine. “And I will never leave your side” I replied, my statement making him smile. I don’t know what took over me but I suddenly found myself leaning up to kiss him. He didn’t respond at first but after a few seconds I felt his lips move against mine. This kiss was so much better than any I had ever experienced before. His lips were soft but firm, he tasted of the whiskey we had been drinking and a hint of something else, something uniquely him, he took full control of the kiss holding onto my waist a little tighter. Suddenly I felt like a bucket of cold water fell on me when I felt his tongue brushing against my lips and I came to my senses. I shouldn’t have kissed Jay… he was practically my older brother. I quickly ended the kiss, pushing myself away from him and loosening his grip on my waist in the process. “I’m sorry” I mumbled, avoiding his eyes, trying to get past him and back to my room and to hide under my covers from the embarrassment. “Amara wait” he said, calling me by my birth name instead of the name I was given when I came into the family. He was the only one who called me Amara as he knew I preferred that name a little bit more than my given name. He quickly grabbed my arm and pulled me back into his embrace before I could even take 5 steps away from him. I couldn’t bare to look into his face because of the embarrassment. “That kiss wasn’t a mistake” he said softly. I looked up at him, surprised. “I’ve always felt more for you than any normal brother would or even should, I guess that’s why I have always been so protective over you. At first I thought it was because you had such a tough time growing up and I wanted to protect you from that and this hectic mafia life you had been brought into, but as we grew older I knew it was much more than that. That’s why I could never stand seeing you with those idiots you used to date, especially that piece of shit Bobby” he said. Bobby was the guy I had dated in my senior year of high school but he had broken up with me right after prom after I had given him my virginity, stating that the only reason he was with me was to sleep with the “Park Princess”. I remember crying for a week but after that he mysteriously went missing and his family left town not long after. I had always assumed he had left with his family.

“You’re mine. You’ve always been mine and I’m never letting you go” he declared, looking deep into my eyes before pulling me back into a slightly rough passionate kiss. Deep down I knew I felt the same way about him. I even had a full blown crush on Jay between the ages of 16-18 but after that I quickly pushed it aside thinking it was not only one sided but wrong as he was supposed to be my brother. I briefly thought back to my past boyfriends and realised they all had either personality or physical similarities to Jay but in my mind and heart they would never amount to him. I felt him walk backwards towards the couch without breaking our passionate embrace. He broke our kiss to sit down and signalled for me to straddle him. Before I did I untied the knot I had done on my robe, letting the soft silk fall off my skin, revealing the deep red chemise I was wearing underneath. “Fuck” I heard him whisper as I straddled his lap and continued kissing him, his hands returned to my waist, pulling me closer into him which cause my barely covered pussy to brush up against the quickly growing bulge in his pants, this action causing us both to groan into each other’s mouths.

His lips left mine and started trailing down my neck, finding that sweet spot that made me grind into him just a little harder. My fingers made quick work unbuttoning his shirt and slowly ran down his strong chest lightly brushing over his nipples, this action causing him to groan and dig his fingers- which had moved from my waist to my ass- deeper into my soft but firm flesh. His lips quickly returned to mine as his hands started trailing up, dragging my chemise with them. We briefly separated so he could pull the material over my head before returning to the kiss. “Hold on tight” he muttered, as he got up without breaking our kiss, my legs wrapped securely around his waist. He softly placed me onto his bed as he broke apart from my lips to remove the rest of his shirt. “Fuck you’re perfect” he groaned, his voice laced with lust. “Those fuckers didn’t deserve you” he muttered as he returned to kissing my neck, this time also grabbing onto my boobs and playing with my nipple with his one hand whilst the other trailed down the side of my body and returned to my legs around his waist, I felt nothing but him at that moment, the soft heated touch of his hands running down my body, the smell of his rich expensive cologne, his soft lips on my nipple driving me crazy. At that moment all my thoughts were consumed by him. “Have you ever wondered what happened to that piece of shit Bobby” he said looking into my eyes with a dark look I had only seen a handful of times. “I killed him” he said, now kissing and sucking my left nipples whilst his right hand continued to play with the other.  “What!” pulling his hair causing him to look up at me, “Not only did he have the audacity to touch what’s mine, but he hurt you as well…he had to pay for that” he declared kissing me once again. As dark and twisted as it seems, his confession turned me on even more.

His kisses left my lips once again as he kissed my body further and further down. His fingers made quick work of the cute thong I had been wearing, tearing it off my body “Hey! That was one of my favourites” I complained before moaning as his fingers brushed up against my clit, “I’ll buy you a million more, get you whatever you want and I’ll do whatever you want” he said, looking deep into my eyes. “Well right now, I want you to stop teasing and eat me out” I said grabbing onto his hair, pushing him down towards where I needed him most, “Your wish is my command, my Queen” he said seductively before attaching his lips to my clit. Him calling me his Queen and the feeling of his thick fingers entering me as he sucked my clit made me cum instantly. “Jay!” I screamed his name as I experienced a high like never before. As I came down from it, he pulled his fingers out of me and licked them clean whilst looking me dead in the eye. “You taste so good babygirl I could be down there forever” he said. I quickly sat up and pushed him back and kissed him, tasting myself on his lips sent my body into overdrive as I quickly unbuckled his pants. He chuckled at the rushed movements and pushed me back as he got up to remove his pants.

 As he did this, I got a full proper look at his body; firm, muscular, covered in tattoos and all mine. I truly was the luckiest girl in the world at that moment. As he pulled down his briefs, I got my first proper look at him, he was long, thick and veiny. His tip was an angry red colour dripping beads of pre-cum. He’s gorgeous, I thought. I reached out to feel him, barely able to wrap my hand around him. He felt hot and heavy in my hand. I slowly started to stroke him, and he let out the sexiest groan I had ever heard causing me to look up at him. His eyes were dark with lust and passion. “Baby, you better stop if you don’t want this to end too early” he groaned, taking my hand away from him and leaning into another kiss. He laid me down and once again started kissing my neck. At the back of my mind I wondered if it would hurt; Jay was definitely much more blessed than any other man I had been with.

“Don’t worry baby I’ll go slow” he said positioning himself between my legs as if reading my mind.

“At first” I replied with a sexy smirk on my face as I grabbed him and pumped him a few times before lining him up with my entrance.  “I love you” he said as he slowly entered me. He felt so big that it kind of hurt but I didn’t want him to stop. The pleasure outweighed the pain. “Fuck baby, I love you too” I moaned as he finally bottomed out. “Shit baby you feel so good” he groaned as he started moving at a slow and steady pace. I grabbed his face and pulled him down into another kiss, missing the feel of his lips on me. In this moment I felt complete I knew that we were meant to be, I knew that he was fully mine and as I his. “Fuck baby harder” I moaned as he moved one of my legs to rest on his shoulder. He granted my wish as he started moving faster and harder, hitting a spot in me that made my brain go all fuzzy. I became a moaning mess underneath him as he did what he pleased with my body. “Shit baby, I’m so close” I groaned against his lips. At that moment he pulled out of me and before I could protest he flipped me over onto my stomach and pulled my hips up into a perfectly arched position, he quickly re-entered me, now feeling even deeper than he was before. The sounds that were coming out my mouth didn’t sound like me but at that moment in time I didn’t care because all my body and mind were focused on Jay and the pleasure he was giving me. My mind briefly drifted, the thought of him impregnating me at the moment and how beautiful our baby would be warming me up even more. This thought quickly got pushed aside as I felt him grab my hair and pull me up till my back met his chest. “Fuck baby you feel so good and so fucken tight” he groaned into my ear as I turned my head to kiss him. “I want to feel you cum on me” he groaned as his fingers attached themselves to my clit sending me into the most mind-blowing orgasm I’ve ever experienced in my life. My walls tightened so much around him that he came not a second later. He continued pumping into me, drawing out our highs as much as possible. “Fuck” he sighed in content. “I’m never going to get enough of you” he said pulling me into another kiss.

“You say that like it’s a bad thing” I said clenching my inner walls around his still hard member. He groaned, flipping us over till I was on top of him with his dick deep inside me.

“No, not a bad thing at all” he smirked as I slowly started moving, “You’re mine forever” he said, sitting up and kissing me once again. We continued to make love until the sun slowly started peaking through the curtains. “I love you” he whispered into my hair as I lay in his arms, “And I love you” I replied as I turned my head to give him one last kiss before we fell asleep.

At the back of our minds, we both knew we would probably face a lot of heat and probably negative attention if our relationship was to be exposed with most saying it’s wrong. However, I knew that no matter what Jay would never leave me nor I him.

The End

[scribble-blog]

Soulmate AU part 3!!

First • Previous • Here • Next

Side note, I’m a grandma in a 22 year old body who doesn’t understand technology. If somebody can teach me how to get readmores to work on tumblr mobile, and possibly how to start linking the posts together, I’d appreciate it!

Also, the taglist is now full! Though if people want, I could try doing a supplemental taglist? Either in a reblogged or in a separate post to notify you? Let me know in the replies!

Damian Wayne, as it turns out, is almost very certainly the son of Bruce Wayne, who sponsored their entire trip to Gotham. There are only two official pictures of him that are clear enough to truly check against, but Marinette sees the eyes and she nods. “That’s him.”

Trixx, Pollen, Kaalki, and Plagg are scattered about the bed, napping and lounging. Adrien also lounges, catlike and crosswise with the bed, entirely over the pillows at their back. Chloé holds the laptop that Marinette is hovering over, even from her seated position with her much smaller stature.

“It would be you,” Chloé snorts. “Oh, let’s just traipse over to America for a quick class visit! Oops, my soulmate is the incredibly handsome son of the incredibly wealthy man who invited us here!”

“Still more believable than you, Miss ‘My soulmate and I have literally been standing two feet from each other for weeks because not only do we have the exact same friends, but we’re part of the same superhero group and never realized until Ladybug allowed us to learn each other’s secret identities.’” Adrien doesn’t move as he calls her out, lazily curled into the warmth of his two friends and the pillows cocooning him.

“I don’t think any of us can speak,” Marinette groans. “I’m living a cheap rom com, Chloé’s got all the plot elements of a high budget Shakespearian drama, and Mr. ‘Didn’t know I wasn’t straight until my soulmate mark was a guys name” is straight out of a b movie comedy.”

“At least I got my act together pretty quickly once it occurred to me that I could like guys too,” Adrien points out. “And now Jon and I talk all the time, and he even comes to Paris sometimes to see me, or we’ll meet up for my occasional business trips in America. Which reminds me,” he pulled out his phone, sending off a quick text, “he wants to come meet you guys. Next week, while we’re all actually on the same continent.”

“Kudos to you for shaking off whatever Gabe tried to stuff your head full of,” Chloé says. “Took me ages to admit that I was gay, and that was even WITH my soulmark and both Marinette and Ladybug constantly in front of me.”

“Feeling pretty objectified,” Marinette protests.

“Oh shut it, I know for a fact that you’ve basically been the gay awakening crush of every not straight girl in our class. And several outside of it. And that’s not even counting all the dudes that fall in love with you.”

“I still object,” Marinette pouts at Chloé.

“Objection overruled.” Adrien sits up. “Marinette. You’re like, the perfect crush. They have a warning about you in the introductory packet for Mme. Bustier’s class.”

“They do not,” Marinette gasps, outraged. “I wrote that packet!”

“And then the class unanimously decided you were too dangerous to be walking around without a warning sign,” Chloé pinched her cheek. “If it makes you feel any better, it’s still in the packet despite Lila’s best efforts to get it thrown out.”

That does make Marinette feel better.

“Damian Wayne resurfaces after year of being believed dead,” Adrien reads from his phone. “Gotham’s Newest Wayne: The True Son! These all read like tabloids but as far as I can tell the Wayne’s don’t tolerate stuff like that. So I guess it’s true?”

“I’m tired of looking him up,” Marinette groans. “Can we just leave it be?”

“Nope,” Chloé pops the P. “Congrats, Dupain-Cheng, this is what friends are for.”

“I wish I could talk to Tikki about it,” Marinette sighs. “Especially because I have literally never heard anyone talk about that- electric feeling when we touched. Is it a Ladybug thing?”

Plagg opens one big green eye. “Cool it, Spots. It’s definitely a Ladybug thing. You’re literally the reason these marks exist.”

Marinette sticks her tongue out at the mini god. “I just miss her.”

“Join the club,” he grumbles, closing his eye and going back to napping.

“Good news,” Chloé says, bringing her attention back to the laptop. “Searching your name very easily leads to you, and our class, and the fact that we won the contest. So, unless he decides he’s not ready to meet you, you’ll have the chance to find him at the gala. Or at Wayne Enterprises. Or at any of the places the Wayne’s own, which is two-thirds of our trip destinations.”

“Oh god,” Marinette says. “What if he didn’t want to find me?”

Adrien, Chloé, and four Kwamis hit her at the same time, shoving her back into the bed.

“Don’t be ridiculous, Mari,” Adrien scolds her from his position atop the newly formed cuddle pile. “I saw his face too. If the boy isn’t already in love with you, he’ll be hunting you down just for the chance to fall.”

Trixx nuzzled into her side. “I may not be Tikki but all of us Kwamis know how incredible you are, Marinette.”

She sighed. “Alright guys, get off.”

———

Marinette Dupain-Cheng. Tim already knew who the girl was, because he’d been curious when his favorite artist had started talking about the source of his newest looks.

But having Damian demand his help in searching for everything he could find on her, and then only asking for the bare minimum of information about her trip itinerary- Tim wasn’t an idiot.

“So. She’s your soulmate.” Tim takes a sip of the coffee he’d been working on, making a face and instantly setting it back down when he realized it had gone cold.

Damian carefully did not change his expression, but it wasn’t fooling anyone. “And so what if she is?”

Tim looked back at the monitor. “So nothing. Congrats, Demon Spawn. I’m happy for you.”

He barely caught the edge of the scowl the younger Wayne tried to hide.

“Hey, no.” Tim spun his chair to face Damian. “Look, we’ve had our differences and disagreements-“

“You had me on the superhero equivalent of a terrorism watch list,” Damian interrupted.

“And you literally tried to kill me within the first day of meeting me.”

“A byproduct of my indoctrination from birth into a murder cult,” His brother kept his face still but the tone was wry.

“You kept trying to kill me.”

“I wasn’t trying to kill you!” Damian finally exclaimed, losing his collected demeanor. “Just-“

“Point being,” Tim stressed, “even if we haven’t always gotten along- haven’t ever, really- I’m still happy for you. Soulmates are a special thing. We all kind of thought you might not have one, with the way you always acted when Dick tried to ask.”

Damian forced down the immediate retort and looked at Tim. “I thought that maybe my dying would have prevented my name from showing up for them. And my teachings-“ he said the word with the inflection that meant he was discussing Assassin Upbringing rather than here- “were as such that most connections, be they familial, friendly, or romantic, were- unnecessary and even dangerous.” It felt tantamount to a betrayal of his younger self to confide anything in Drake like this, but... Damian really was, in many ways, a better and more mature person than the spoiled, aggressive, near sociopathic brat he’d arrived as seven years ago. He still kept the veneer of it up, but he was no longer the boy who needed to fight Drake to prove his worth as Bruce’s son.

Now he just waited for Drake to embarrass himself by passing out after staying up for far too long surviving on caffeine and energy drinks. Much easier.

And Drake didn’t ever seem as eager to blackmail and fight as Damian ever had, so he figured a small amount of vulnerability was a proper thank you for his discretion in finding Marinette.

Tim just took another grimacing sip of the cold coffee. “Man. In that case, even happier for you that you’re shrugging off yet another of the Child Assassin School’s upsetting and frankly terrible rules. Though as for the dying thing, I’m pretty sure it doesn’t matter as long as you don’t actively die now that you have the mark.”

Damian shrugged. “Irrelevant now, as I will not be dying anytime soon, and neither will she. And she clearly knows that we’re soulmates.”

“Still confused about that,” Tim frowned, looking back at him. “You said there was an electric current between you? Or it felt like that?”

Damian couldn’t stop his hand from twitching, the memory of it clear enough to feel. “Yes. I don’t understand it myself either.”

“I’ll search around. See if anything comes up.” Tim handed him a pile of papers. “Here, the info you wanted on her itinerary, plus things I thought would be pertinent without going over whatever line you seem to have drawn.”

Damian took them, and very begrudgingly said, “Thank you,” before ducking out of the room.

He waited until he was back in his own room before flicking through them, finding the trip schedule and the hotel rooms listed, the names of her class and teachers, and finally a list of her accomplishments and a copy of the paper that had won her class the trip, authored by her.

He read through it, noting the names of her classmates and their own community efforts, and the way her own section in the paper was minuscule compared to both each other persons section and the list of accomplishments Drake had drafted.

One classmate had, if no less written than than any other person, a distinctly different tone to what Marinette had written, and most of her community building and service events were merely echoes or assisting what another person had done. Damian shrugged it off, as there were sometimes people who simply tagged along, and never put their own effort out there. Followers, and not leaders.

All in all, he found himself more intrigued than ever about her.

TAGLIST:

@the-fusionist @rebecarojas07 @lowandco @kotaleartzu @resignedcatservant @alenee13 @mystery-5-5 @ladybug-182 @actual-disaster-human @loysydark @rumbelle18 @magic-miraculous @vixen-uchiha @athena452 @mochegato @ash-amg @worlds-tiniest-spook-pastry @thestressmademedoit @sassakitty @doriebell @jessigurl-design @emotionalsupportginger @kceedraws @kuroko26 @moonystars14 @toodaloo-kangaroo @myazael @theatreandcomicfreak @mer-mel @dahjokester @northernbluetongue @area51qt @renscorpio @redscarlet95 @razzledazzle247 @rosep16 @tired-butterfly @catthhay @shamefullove @imanerddealwith @chaosace @captainmac6 @bigpicklebananatree @abrx2002 @cici-schnee @multplelifes @shreky-boi @purple-people-eaters-productions @crazylittlemunchkin @weird-pale-blonde-person

[artxyra]

Healing Gotham | Part 2

Prologue | Part 1

Just hours before her schedule plane ride from Paris, France to New York City,  New York, Marinette was sitting across from her husband of five years. Luka and Marinette have been talking about this for months on end, but there was never a perfect time to enact it until now. Their eyes lock onto one another, he hums a soft tone knowing that it will calm his wife’s nerves just enough to talk or to think. While they stay in place, they don’t acknowledge the small flying gods watching them in curiosity.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” He asks once their silent conversation concludes. Marinette visibly gulps and nods. Though Luka could tell something was on her mind.

“Yes, I’m sure. Ever since I was little, I could feel the darkness that surrounds Gotham and I doubt anything has changed even with the help of Batman. Doing it now just seems perfect. Hawkmoth is no longer a threat, our careers are decently stable, and the Miraculous Team is finely spread across Europe. Granted, the European Justice League seems to butt in every now and then trying to recruit our members…so yeah now is perfect.” Marinette responds getting up from the couch and into her husband’s arm.

Luka instinctively wraps his arms around his wife’s small waist. Maybe this would be good. Marinette would finally get closure about Jason’s death and bond with her brother’s growing family—something that they have been meaning to start on their own.

“If anything, having Tikki around could help speed up the cleansing. If not, well…” Marinette trails off not sure what to say next. Will having Tikki help speed up the process? She wasn’t even sure herself.

“Say no more, everything will work out just fine. You’re healing years’ worth of pain and suffering, and on top of that, you need closure for yourself. I know Jason’s death took a lot out of you and going back just seems wrong to you.” Luka tightens his hold on Marinette. He knows she was near a mental breakdown of her own, and he just hopes that a hug would suffice.

Marinette smiles and looks up to her husband, “You’re right this might do me some good.” Her lips brush against Luka nearly nibbling on his bottom lip.

Breaking for air, the couple smile at one another but the moment is lost when Plagg decided to make himself known.

“As much as this is a sweet moment, can someone please get me more cheese?”  The kwami of destruction moans out causing the two to chuckle.

“Sure Plagg, but remember you’re going with Luka on his tour while the others that aren’t active are coming with me, which means you’ll be on a strict cheese limit.” Marinette states before walking into the kitchen and returning with a small block of cheese. Plagg blanches at the thought of having a cheese limit. That defeats the purpose of his greatest love.

In honesty, Plagg could hear Tikki and the others somewhat laughing at him about this latest piece of news. While this isn’t like being with Adrien (his former wielder & best friend), it’s home to him.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, I know.” Plagg waves it away with little care in the world.

“You better keep an eye on him.” Marinette turns to Luka as if her husband hasn’t been the wielder of the black cat miraculous for years.

“I will,” Luka kisses Marinette’s forehead and turns to Plagg, “Are you coming or what?” Plagg flies over to Luka and settles down on the taller man’s shoulder.

“Well miss you bug; don’t let that brother of yours beat you down.” Marinette scoffs at the kwami before sending him a little chuckle.

Marinette looks at the time, her plane boards in just under three hours. That is enough time for her to get through the checkpoints and to her gate. She didn’t want to say goodbye, but maybe leaving Paris is a good idea—they haven’t exactly left unless it was for tours or fashion shows. Luka was going on tour with Jagged Stone and his own protégée, who he is currently the producer for, and Marinette didn't have any shows planned for weeks but visiting her Gotham branch is good. They plan to meet up in New York for the final show and then head back to Gotham depending on Marinette’s mental health stage and the progress she made in Gotham.

“Marin Etta Martha Wayne, you stay safe and we’ll see you in a few months.” Luka jokes at first but he seriously wants his wife to be safe in Gotham. Their lips meet saying goodbye to one another.

Making it to the airport was nothing. Originally, Marinette was supposed to take Kaalki but she didn’t want Bruce or anyone to question her early arrival. That and riding on a plane gives her ample time to think of a game plan and build her confidence.

“Flight 04857 to New York City is now boarding now.” A voice announces over the coms. Time really does pass quickly when someone is stuck in their head. Marinette barely would have acknowledged it if it wasn’t for Tikki making movements in her carry-on bag.

Taking a big breath, Marinette gathers her carry-on and takes her stance line to board. In less than twelve hours, she’ll be arriving in her birth city where it all started.

The flights were exhausting, on the first flight she had in front of a crying toddler (first time flying) and her seating partner would not shut up. Though there were some good moments before it all when down the hill. Then her second flight was slightly delayed. Apparently, Gotham’s airport was attacked, and this is the only flight that enters Gotham that day.

Miraculously, she managed to get into Gotham within the same time frame she gave Alfred just days before. Gathering her stuff, she takes notice of all the damage the fight did. Some parts of the airport were unavailable, and a handful of airplanes were destroyed. Seriously, how high is Gotham’s insurances for this to be an everyday occurrence? Due to regular superhero fights, Paris would be forever grateful for the miraculous cure because it saved so many people paperwork and having to replace what was lost.

After getting off the phone with Alfred, Marinette knew she had some time to spare which was enough time to grab a cup of coffee and find a nice bench in the cool weather.

“Welcome home, Miss Marin Etta.” Alfred states once the car is parked and he exits the vehicle to hug the person he has forever viewed as a daughter (or granddaughter at best). Marinette flings herself into Alfred’s arms.

“Alfred, please Marinette is just fine.” Marinette laughs before her voice lowers with the next statement, “And I missed you too, Alfie.”

They break the embrace to finish placing her three luggage into the car’s trunk. Marinette wanted to take a seat in the front, but she knew Alfred would instruct her to sit in the back, just like he did when she was little and six years ago.

“So, Miss Marinette how much of your life has changed? I hear your business MEM Fashions is looking to start a new branch.” Alfred knows everything that happens within the Wayne household but having a conversation with Marinette was always different than that with the boys. He doesn’t see her as often as the others.

Marinette’s eyes lit up, she loves talking about her fashion and retail business.  Ever since she turned eighteen, she decided that MDC no longer represents her, who she truly is, so she rebranded to MEM Fashions (or Styles) when she gained access to her shares of Wayne Enterprise. Since then she takes care of the fashion business that runs through WE, but not many people know that. All they know is that MEM is a brand that is being sponsored by WE and nothing more.

When Alfred pulls in through the gates, Marinette had to take a deep breath. There was no turning back. The moment the doors to the Wayne Manor opens, she and Alfred knew that there will be chaos before them.

Tag List: *View my Tagging System guidelines for how to to be properly tagged or removed.

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[seriouslyhooked]

Feels Like This (Part 13)

Emma Swan is a once lost girl who is now making good. She has made a way in the world for her and her young son, Henry, and after years of hard work, Emma is in her last stretch of schooling for the career she’s always wanted. Unexpectedly, she finds herself in a tiny nation no one’s ever heard of for her last year of study. She knows nothing about the place except that it’s beautiful, has a world-renowned child life program, and is filled with possibility. Meanwhile, Prince Killian is hardly happy with the title he received at birth. As the second in line for the crown, Killian has long tried shaking his royal duties. He built a career in the royal navy, and has stayed out of the limelight, but his ship has been called to port indefinitely at the request of his brother, the King. Fate (in her many forms) brings Emma and Killian together and the resulting fic is a cute, fluffy, trope filled romp featuring heart felt moments, a healthy dose of insta-love and an assured happily ever after. Story rated M and will have 12 parts. Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10, Part 11, Part 12. Available on FF Here and AO3 Here.

A/N: Hey everyone! I am so excited to be back with this story after the month I spent away, and I find it so wild that in that past month so much happened with royals in the actual world. I wouldn’t say it inspired this chapter at all, but it was cathartic to write a story where the Prince and Princess get a much healthier, more healing reception. I know how many of you love this fic, and it definitely has a special place in my heart as well. It’s been so important to me that I do the ending of this story justice, and so it took a bit of time to get my thoughts organized. This is one of the final chapters, and I only anticipate one more actual story installment and then maybe, someday far off in the future, an epilogue or two. That being said, this is a long-awaited milestone for CS and I have attempted to infuse all of my usual cuteness and romance. I hope that you all enjoy, I would love to hear what you think, and thank you all so much for reading!

Gazing out upon the overlook as the sun rose over the tree line in the Montenarran morning, Killian was comforted once more by the vastness of the world and the beauty that danced before him. The light shone with a color and vibrancy he’d come to know and love, but this morning the air hummed with languid layers of anticipation. Maybe it was Killian’s excitement and nerves, but he didn’t think so. No, if anything the world seemed to shimmer today, a sign from above that the timing was right and that he was ready to take this next big step.

The next time I visit this place, I’ll have Emma by my side, he thought to himself, soaking in the comfort of such a plan. 

This was on his list of places to share with his Swan, but he reasoned that he had all the time in the world for such gifts. Today, though, he was planning to make that assumption a reality. For finally, after nearly three days of being parted from his love, he was planning to propose, in a way befitting a woman of Emma’s caliber.

Instinctively, Killian’s hand moved to his pocket, drawing out a small black box which held a ring inside. The ring was beautiful and ornate, an overt and ostentatious display of love, but one with inherent meaning. This was the ring his grandfather had given his Gran, a ring forged for the purpose of real and lasting love. It was not exchanged at their wedding, but instead in a private ceremony the two of them shared some weeks later. Their wedding had been arranged, but still they’d found real love. This ring was a gift, however, given at the turning point where Killian’s grandfather knew that his love for his new Queen was more than mere arrangement – it was true and totally transformative.

“Your brother, as reigning monarch, has full claim to your grandfather and my wedding bands, and he will make good use of them with his Elsa, I am utterly assured,” Gran had claimed some weeks back when she stole Killian for a private moment. On that night, she was serious and sincere, most of her deeply playful nature tucked aside for a brief window of time. She glanced at her the matrimonial ring she still wore, years after the death of her dearly departed husband before looking back to Killian with conviction and calm. “The love between them grows each day, and is befitting of what me and your grandfather shared. But this ring I’m giving you, Killy… this ring is something else altogether. This is magic made metal. This is perfectly genuine affection forged into precious gems.”

“It is gorgeous, Gran,” Killian agreed when she presented the ring to him. “But I can’t take something like this from you. Not when it means so much.”

“That’s why you must have it, Killy. If your Grandfather were here, he would say the same. This ring bound us in life, but now we are bound through so much more.”

For the first time in years, likely since the death of his grandfather himself, Killian watched as tears trickled down his Gran’s face. It instantly pierced his heart, for this was a woman who always showed strength. Even when he was on deployment and gone for years on end, his Gran persevered. She may grow misty eyed or get choked up, but tears were a whole different story. Only the memory of her husband could prompt them, and Killian thought to himself not for the first time that she had been so strong for so long, going on without him.

“Our love is forever, living, thriving, singing its song for now and for always. I miss him, every day, every moment, I wish that he was here, but someday we will have each other again. And in the meantime, this ring deserves another union. It was made to be passed through generations. I will confess that I wondered if anyone should ever be worthy of it, if love like ours would find its way here again. But I needn’t have doubted. You and Emma are made for each other, and it would be my honor for Emma to wear this.”

Killian agreed whole heartedly with his Grandmother’s explanation, and he knew no more beautiful stone could be found the world over. This ring bore a remarkable yellow diamond, encircled with smaller stones of the same rare hue. The exact shade sparkled in the sunlight, but almost seemed dipped in the golden glow of a summer’s afternoon. It was pristine and poetic, warm and well beyond the pale, reminding Killian of the highlights in Emma’s hair and the lilt of her laughter. Her joy was precious, more precious than any stone, but as he gazed upon the rock, it felt quintessentially designed for his Swan. It was happy and bright, bold and beautiful, and he knew, despite its flair and size, that Emma would love it.

The only thing left to do is ask her.

The thought breathed new life into Killian, even more so than the Montenarran morning, and he walked back through the forest paths towards the palace once more, energized and ready for the day ahead. He had everything planned and had been working on this for some time. There were many moving pieces, but he’d squared them all away. In the end he would see to it that this was perfect, for that was exactly what his Swan deserved.

Arriving at the palace just after the sunrise, Killian moved with purpose and precision. He had only a little bit of time, and much to accomplish.

“The last of the parcels have been delivered, Your Grace,” one attendant announced as Killian walked through the palace doors. “The bulk of them are here, as you see, though some are in the green house for obvious reasons.”

“Excellent, Jacque. Thank you.”

“I beg your pardon, Sir, it’s just… are you certain you don’t need help arranging things? It’s a significant amount of work here. The staff is happy to assist.”

“I appreciate that offer, Jacque, but I’ve got things well in hand. I’ve been planning this for some time.”

A thoughtful smile appeared at the older man’s face, one that broke the traditional polite protocol and spoke to how long he had known Killian and the royal family. “Of course, Sir. Well, in that case, best of luck.”

Killian took the well wishes to heart, knowing he had a massive task before him. Perhaps he could have given himself more time to bring all of these pieces together, but to him, it already felt like too much time had been wasted. He was more than ready for this next step with Emma, and after three days spent apart, not seeing each other in person, or sharing much more than a few texts and facetimes, he was particularly desirous to see this through. He had been strategizing on how to get this right for quite a while, and by now he knew each assignment down to the letter.

“I assume that your dismissal of Jacques offer goes for us as well?”

Killian glanced up, finding his mother on the stairwell. From here she was stately and elegant, a poised dowager Queen with refinement and grace, but as she descended, she became more herself, and by the time she was in front of Killian, taking his hand in hers, she was no more and no less than a wonderful mother. His greatest support for many years, and someone who he knew would give anything she could to make this moment special.

“It does, at least for this. But with the children arriving in a few hours’ time -,”

“Not to worry on that front,” his mother said cheerily, her own happiness at the thought of all the Institute’s residents coming to the palace for a special premiere outing. “Your Grandmother and I have all in hand, and Liam and Elsa are set to help us. It’ll be a day to remember.”

“Good,” Killian said, looking around and finding his Gran already in full form, instructing the staff as to the desires she had for the outdoor space. Through the glass of the palace’s wall of windows, her words were muddled, but the humor was clear as day. This woman, frail and aged from outward appearance, was a firecracker, ruling over the days designs with an iron fist. “Surprising that Liam is giving Gran such a wide berth.”

“Well how could he not? He’s yet to come down for the day. Hard to give orders from a distance.”

Killian let out a whistle, and laughed as his mother swatted his arm and ‘tutted’ his boyish actions. Knowing when enough was enough, he left unsaid the clear reason that his brother would choose to stay abed so late in the morning. Killian would stake his life on the fact that a certain guest was here within the palace, and that she likely made a visit of the overnight variety.

“What are the chances that Gran doesn’t know?” Killian asked and his mother shook her head.

“Zero.”

“And the likelihood that she will say something?”

“That’s still to be determined.” Killian was shocked at his mother’s genuine opinion. He, for one, thought it undoubtable that Gran would make mention of this moment, gleefully commenting on the need for royal heirs or some such outlandish claim. “Eleanor is direct and prone to speaking her mind, but she is also strategic. If the calculated risk of such a comment is too high, she will deny herself. She would never do anything to jeopardize your brother’s prospects.”

“You really think a smart comment from an old woman is enough to keep them apart?” Killian asked, thinking back on the few weeks that Liam and Elsa had shared since finding each other again. They had been as close to inseparable as the schedule of a King would allow. It was clear that they were both entirely invested, so much so that a royal announcement would be made in the coming days announcing their relationship.

“Not for a second.”

“So, if you know that, and I know that… surely Gran must know that.”

At that exact moment a maid was walking back into the house, opening the glass doors. From the outside they could hear his grandmother calling out to Liam and to Elsa, who had been discovered somewhere in the backyard. They no doubt were trying to be more discrete, but Gran seemed to have no interest in allowing them that privacy.

“Oh Lord, it’s time,” Meera said with a mix of worry and also amusement. Her eyes were alight with the humor of the moment, but also the very real awkwardness that may soon transpire. “I best get out there and spare them from what I can.”

Killian nodded, but wasn’t ready for the impact of his mother’s arms around him squeezing tight. It was not in any way part of the royal protocol, but his family never paid much mind to that. Still, this was a big hug, one that was obviously filled with tremendous meaning.

“I’m so proud of you, my darling. You’ll give her everything she deserves, and the two of you will be happy. So wonderfully, beautifully happy.”

“Thanks, Mum. Love you,” he whispered, accepting her soft kiss on his cheek and her shared words of love in kind before she dashed off to help his elder brother. A Queen should never move so quickly, but then again, Gran could do quite a bit of damage in the seconds it would take to get from here to there. For his part, Killian only chuckled to himself before heading to the side of the palace towards the gardens for the day.

The next few hours were defined by attention to detail and purposeful precision. Before meeting Emma, Killian could safely say he never imagined the lengths and planning required for a proper proposal. The idea was so intangible, so unnecessary in his estimations, that he never dwelled on even the possibility. It seemed unlikely that his heart would ever be touched in that way. He assumed he’d go through life a bachelor, or worse yet, that he’d cave to eventual pressure and say yes to something arranged and designed without feeling or passion. Luckily for him he had escaped such a fate, and instead had been steered through the grace of all things good towards a woman who was far and away the most remarkable he’d ever met.

Emma was rare and extraordinary. He had known it from their first meeting, and he continued to hold onto this truth every day they were together. There was never a moment when he didn’t realize his good fortune, or when he took her presence in his life for granted. Emma had revived him. She anchored him into the goodness of the world, and she showed him what could be. She expanded his horizons, even brought with her a son, another key part of a growing family, and by her side, Killian felt like he was capable of anything.

He only hoped that the elements he’d gathered today would translate as he imagined they could. This was a memory in the making that could only be shared once. Killian wanted to be sure that it was what Emma wanted and deserved. Luckily, he’d had help and more than a little bit of intel, mostly provided by Henry and from a few other insiders who knew Emma best of all.

“Are all systems a go, Captain?”

As if he’d conjured Henry with the grateful thought of all the boy had done for him, he turned now to find Emma’s son in the garden. Killian watched as the lad took in their surroundings, his eyes growing wide, and his whispered ‘this is so cool’ a welcome sign that Killian’s efforts had not been for nothing. He stood from where he’d been bent down, tidying up the last of his efforts, and when he gazed upon it himself, he had to say he was happy with the outcome.

“Aye, Lieutenant. All the necessary components are accounted for.”

“Good. She’s going to lose it. In a good way though,” Henry said with a smile which burned bright.

“Is everyone arrived then?” Killian asked and Henry shook his head.

“Soon, but not just yet. Anna and I have been here for a while now. Gran needed help with the game set up, but I asked if I could see you first.”

The look of wonder and happiness that had clung to Henry since arriving colored to something a bit more pensive. The shift gave Killian some pause for the first time all day. “Everything all right, lad?”

“Everything’s great, I just – well I was wondering – I mean if Mom says yes – or rather when she says yes, because she’ll totally say yes, it’s just that, well I – I was wondering…”

“No need to be worried, Henry,” Killian said, placing a hand on the boy’s shoulder. “Whatever you have to ask me, I’m here to help. You have my word I will make it right.”

“I know. And you’ll love Mom forever, right?”

“Aye, lad. Forever and then some.”

“And you love me too,” Killian’s heart clenched as he automatically nodded.

“Yes, Henry. I love you both, undoubtedly.”

“And we’re going to be a family.”

Killian didn’t know what to say. Down to his bones he knew that they would be. He was confident in this union between him and Emma. They had made promises already, declarations of love. He would give anything to be her husband, and he knew that someday he would be, but to say it aloud to her son when Emma herself hadn’t had a chance to even be asked was something else entirely.  In the end, he decided to just go with his gut.

“In my heart, we already are.” Henry beamed up at him, the worry of the moment melting away. Still, Killian never imagined what he’d say next.

“Well then I was hoping that maybe, when you and Mom are married, maybe I could call you Dad?”

Killian was overwhelmed with the request. It was something he had wished for, but didn’t want to press. He knew Henry had no memories of his biological father, but he never wanted to assume. It was a massive move for a young man to ask such a question, but Killian’s answer to the query was instant and heartfelt.

“I would be honored, lad.”

“Cool,” Henry said happily, brimming with the excitement he’d had since Killian first told him about his plan to propose to Emma.

Henry moved forward, hugging Killian with the affection of an earnest hearted ten-year-old, and Killian savored it, knowing he would always see Henry as his son. He may not be his blood, but he lay claim to a large piece of Killian’s heart. He silently swore to always do right by Henry. To protect him and to teach him what he could. But mostly he would support him, and show love to Henry and his mother all the days of his life. Before Killian could speak to more of that, the sound of busses pulling up, and happy children streaming onto palace grounds wafted through the air. The time had come. This was the moment.

“You know the plan, son?” Killian asked, the word slipping off his tongue so easily, and bringing real joy to Henry’s eyes.

“Aye, aye, Captain. I’ll have Mom to you in five minutes. You can time me.”

Killian might have laughed at the fervor and excitement Henry shared, but unfortunately, five minutes waiting in a moment like this felt like a lifetime away. The only thing that got him through were the last-minute adjustments, and the journey that was needed from where he was, to where they’d start their memorable afternoon. Finally, the moment came where Killian was waiting at the start of the hedgerow, even further from the festivities and he could hear the woman he loved, unaware of his being here.

“Henry, seriously, what’s going on? The party’s only just starting. We have time for a tour later. We can go with the others.”

“Trust me Mom, this can’t wait.”

“What is it Henwy?” a tiny voice Killian would know anywhere asked. Cecelia was with them, another sign from above that his plans were moving the way he wanted.

“Something magical,” Henry said and Killian could hear the sharp trill of an excited little girl.

“Like fairies?”

“Just wait, you’ll see.”

“Something magical, huh?”  Emma parroted, but at that moment they all stepped into view.

Three days may be but a blip in time to some, but to Killian it had felt like an eternity. The peace he now experienced at seeing his Swan again was profound, and somehow she was even more stunning than when he’d left her. The day’s light shone in her hair and in her smile. She was gorgeous and relaxed, dressed in a delicate pink sun dress designed to tease and torment. Her radiance outshone every flower in this garden, and in the moments before she saw him, he soaked in the sight of her. God she was beautiful, too beautiful to properly behold. His heart skipped and his muscles tightened, and then her eyes landed on him and he was whole.  The world was righted once more, and all because Emma saw him and felt the same pull he felt emanating from his chest. The surprise in her eyes was evident, followed immediately by relief, and joy, and love, and all of it was too sweet a call to resist. He moved towards her and the children, sending up one last prayer in this critical moment.

Please let her be mine. I swear I’ll deserve her. Whatever it takes.  For I am hers, body and soul, and I always will be.

………………

God he’s gorgeous, Emma thought instinctively upon finding Killian at the far end of the garden hedge. That thought was followed closely by, Wait, what is he doing here?

“Killy!” Cecelia cried out happily, letting go of Emma and Henry’s hands and sprinting towards him. Emma watched as Killian crouched down, accepting the hug from the little girl who effortlessly stole their hearts. He closed his eyes momentarily, soaking in the moment, and then he pulled back and pushed some of her wayward curls from Cecelia’s eyes, smiling at her with genuine affection.

“Good morning, little love. How are you finding the palace?” Emma’s heart clenched in her chest in the best way. He was just so sweet with her. He always had been.

“It’s so so good,” Cecelia replied, bringing a laugh out of all of them.

At the little girl’s enthusiastic endorsement, Killian thanked Cecelia and then stood once more, looking at Emma with those captivating blue eyes and that charming smile that always took her breath away. She was still trying to fathom his presence here. They had spent the last few days apart, days she found so much more difficult to manage than she expected, but he wasn’t set to return for a few more days. Liam had sent him on state business. She didn’t press for details, assuming it was confidential, but now, she was curious as to this wonderful turn of events. Before she could ask though, he walked over to her, taking her into his arms and kissing her surely. She leaned into this embrace, loathed to let him go, but he seemed to remember they were in the presence of little eyes. It was a fleeting kiss, but still invigorating all the same.

“I don’t understand. You’re supposed to be away the rest of the week.”

“I hope you’ll forgive my brother for that white lie,” Killian said, his hand coming up to scratch at his ear in that subtle show of bashfulness she’d witnessed a time or two. “If you’ll recall I never actually confirmed an itinerary, having sworn never to lie to you again.”

“So, you weren’t on a… huh, let’s see, how did Liam put it? A ‘mission for the future of the nation’ then?” 

“Not exactly. But then again, in some ways, that’s exactly where I was. Do you trust me, love?”

Emma nodded, and watched as his smile grew warmer. She knew that it meant to him to have her trust, but in her eyes, he had earned it ten times over. Killian was a good man – the best man she knew – and he made her feel safe. Of course she trusted him. She had never trusted anyone this much before.

“In that case, I’ve some things to show you. Henry, you’ll be sure to hold down the fort in the meantime?”

Emma looked over to her son, and only now realized that this was all planned somehow. Her boy looked pleased as punch, and even sent a salute Killian’s way. “Yes sir. And Cecelia will help, wont’ you Ceci?” The little girl nodded, joyously, thrilled at the prospect of helping. “We’ll see you both soon.”

Killian nodded, leading Emma in the direction of the garden. The further they moved into the hedgerow, the quieter it became, until the only songs around them were those of birds and breeze. Emma was amazed at all of this, but she was also still wrapped up in his return. It felt so good to be back with her hand in his, the glow of his presence enveloping her. She’d never missed someone like she had the past few days, never ached this way to be reunited with someone. It was a testament to all she felt for him and how much she’d come to love him. Quietly she stopped walking, pulling Killian’s attention. With a quick glance behind them, she saw no one had followed. They were totally alone and so she made her move. Pulling him down for another kiss, she said a proper hello, and shivered in delight at his reaction.

His hands were on her, seemingly everywhere, holding her close as they tasted each other. She felt his soft dark hair between her fingers, where she ran them through by the nape of his neck. She arched in closer, feeling the friction of their bodies together, and sighing in pleasure when they pulled apart. It couldn’t go further than that, but Emma felt more secure having shown him even in a small way how happy she was to see him.

“Hell of a welcome home, love,” he growled out, words low and throaty from his own swirling emotion. “If leaving wasn’t torture in itself, I’d consider more trips just for this.”

“No need to leave for these,” she whispered to him, leaning in for another kiss but then nipping him gently instead and stepping back out of his grasp. She smiled at his evident frustration, and laughed when he groaned in defeat. He knew he was had, but from the way he pulled her back into his arms, running his hand along the small of her back and looking at her adoringly, he didn’t seem to mind.

“You are a marvel, love. Have I mentioned that yet?”

“Maybe once or twice,” she teased, looking back to where they’d been walking and giving him silent permission to lead to their destination once more. “It’s beautiful out here.”

Beautiful was an understatement. In truth, Emma had never seen such intricate floral designs or such an array of colors and flower species. She had to imagine it was more than a palace garden. This had to be one of the most beautiful botanical spaces in all of Europe.

“Much of that is my mother’s doing. Her passion project, so to speak. She brought us out here when we were boys. Showed us bits and bobs. But this has always been hallowed grounds. Special, and perhaps, as Henry hinted, a little magical as well.”

Emma was poised to reply, but at that moment they turned a corner and things changed. They were still in a garden, but this time – oh lord it was difficult to describe. Magnificent was the first word that came to mind, and ethereal came soon after. For where there were blossoms and buds before, now there even more, hanging from pergolas above and winding through ivy vines on every hedge. Some were clearly naturally placed, but Emma noticed pieces woven into this area that she’d seen before, half a world away.

“Windchimes,” she murmured, looking at the gorgeous displays that reminded her of home.

There was a storefront, totally discrete from the street view and far off of the beaten path, deep in the heart of Chinatown, that she and Henry had found when he was younger. It was filled with artisan chimes and motifs and mobiles made from natural items and glass and more. The owners were amazing and known in crafting circles around the globe. The first day Emma and Henry visited taking refuge from a sudden winter chill, the couple who owned the store had taken the time to walk her son through their work. They’d then spent hours in the studio, and though Emma had very little by way of money for a purchase, they’d showed her and Henry nothing but the utmost kindness. She’d always found the pieces beautiful, comprised of shells and flecks of crystal or silver and gold, swirled into constellations that evoked a night sky or sense of wonder. 

Over the years she and Henry returned to the studio many times, and even bought a few pieces when she could save enough to treat herself to something precious. There was so much beauty crafted in each piece. Emma always found herself wanting more, and she loved their trips back over and over again. The style  of this artwork was one of a kind. Emma had never seen other pieces like these, but here, in this patch of the garden, there had to be a hundred intricate, delicate, interrelated art pieces dancing in the wind.

“How is this possible?”

“Henry may have mentioned something. Do you like it?”

“It’s gorgeous. God, the time it must have taken to put this all together…”

“Was time well spent, believe me, love.” Emma looked to him and she could have sworn from the look in his eyes and the tone of his voice that he was the one who had done this. But that was crazy. How could he have possibly had time for all this?

“But how did it all even get here?”

“I brought it.”

“You brought it?” Emma asked, stunned, her fingertips grazing the smoothed lines of one art piece dripping in sea glass. “You were in New York.”

“Aye.”

“But why?”

“Patience, love. There’s more to see.”

Emma had no idea how there could possibly be more, but she tucked her arm through Killian’s and walked with him to the next section of gardens. Here there was a sudden burst of purples and whites, and a scent she’d been missing without even realizing it. Lilacs, but none of them in season. Oh God, look at all of them.

“Killian,” she whispered, looking at what must have been thousands of bouquets of her favorite flower. It was unbelievable, but it was real, and she moved forward, seeing them all set up and displayed prominently in the midst of a garden with white roses. It was gorgeous and surreal. And now she was utterly dazed and more than a little confused.

“You and Henry are well known at the Brooklyn gardens love, as I’m sure you are well aware. I had it on good authority from a woman named Ella that lilacs are your particular favorite.”

“These can’t all be from there,” Emma said and Killian shook his head.

“No, these are admittedly sourced from a few specialty purveyors across the continent. But this,” he pulled out a polaroid of a small lilac tree that was recently planted. Looking at the surroundings, Emma realized that was outside Killian’s home here in Montenarro. “This is directly from the gardens. The same family and strain, all the way from New York.”

Emma was too shocked to speak, and felt the tears welling in her eyes. He had done so much for her, and she knew it was for one reason. He wanted to bring part of her home, part of a place that meant so much to Henry and her, here to his home. It was so thoughtful she felt tongue tied. What could she say? This was all so much.

Unbelievably there was even more, and over the next few minutes he took her through three more break away gardens, each filled with other staples of her one-time home. Food and culture and memories and more. This man had managed to find all of the best parts of her time in New York and he had brought them here. Some of them were things completely out of the realm of possibility.

“I can’t believe you found this,” Emma said, holding onto a years-old piece of construction paper that had been forgotten to time.

This picture was one of so many projects that her son had made in life, but Emma cherished the memories that went with it. Another example of the city’s serendipity, this painting chronicled a day of adventure for Emma and Henry. They’d wandered all through the city, and ended up in Queens for a special summer program for kids. She was always looking for magic moments for Henry, especially ones designed for a budgeting single Mom, and this one had delivered. There were story times and games, crafts and activities, and Henry had been thrilled. He made this picture of the two of them, and though it looked nothing like Emma, it had captured her heart. It also caught the eye of the librarians working that day and they’d selected it to put on the wall in the Children’s wing. Henry was oh so proud, his four-year-old heart filled with joy at getting to hang his art somewhere aside from their refrigerator door. It meant something to Emma, another example of her doing her best by her boy, and giving him all that she’d never had.

“There was a picture of you and Henry and this particular masterpiece in the Saturday Times.”

“Okay now how could you possibly know that?”

“Your neighbor, Mrs. Hubbard. She was very forthcoming, and she’d saved the article. Has it framed and everything.”

“You spoke to Mrs. H?” Emma asked completely bewildered, and Killian nodded. “And the library had it all this time?”

“Aye. In the archives. Nothing a few strategically planned favors couldn’t procure.”

“I don’t deserve this,” Emma said, letting the tears finally fall. This was all too much, but she was immediately comforted by the feel of Killian’s strong arms. His hand came to cup her cheek, his thumb wiping some of the tears as he shook his head, his eyes full of earnest feeling and emotion.

“That’s where you’re wrong, love. You deserve every good thing the world over. I know it’s presumptuous for a man like me to ask for such a treasure, but I swear to you I’ll spend my life giving everything I can.”

“I already have everything. I have you, and Henry,” Emma said. “This is beautiful, but it’s nothing to you.”

Killian hummed out a sigh of contentment, but where Emma expected a kiss, she watched instead as he pulled back, reaching for something in his pocket. “I was hoping you’d feel this way. Makes this next part a bit less nerve wracking.”

In a smooth gesture, he pulled out a small black box and lowered to the ground. Watching Killian drop down to one knee here in the gardens, Emma felt totally adrift from all cares of the world. She was stunned and yet deeply aware that this had all been a long time coming. There was no doubt in her heart that she loved Killian, and she held no fear over taking this next step. This man had shown her for months that he genuinely cared for her and her son. He would move mountains for them, if only for a possibility of their happiness. He was selfless and loyal and true, and he made her brave, emboldening her to believe that the risk was worth it. Love was worth it. Still, it was shocking, to be adored so deeply, and to know that someone truly felt the world began and ended with her.

“Emma, I realize that this is perhaps soon by some standards, but believe me when I say that I have been aching to ask you this question since the moment we met.”  

More tears formed in her eyes, thinking back on that day. Her world had truly shifted in the span of one morning. There was a time before Killian, before romantic love that ever made her hopeful, and then there was more. It all started at the center, but it built well beyond those four walls. Knowing what she did now, she had to call their encounter what it had been – love at first sight. Maybe she hadn’t admitted it then, and surely she hadn’t said it aloud, but that is what transpired. She took one look at this man, this extraordinary, incredible man, and she was hooked, plain and simple.

“You amazed me then, that first day at the Institute. I didn’t realize anyone like you could truly be real, or that I was capable of forming an attachment with such strength. I had seen too much, I reasoned, knew the darkness of the world in ways that may leave me lacking for the rest of my days. I thought such chances at something halfway near normal were beyond me, but those first sparks between us proved me wrong. I was totally ensnared, caught in a web you couldn’t help for making, and still, that immediate response can’t compare to all I feel now. Knowing you – loving you – I am more certain each and every day that you hold my heart in your hand. I am yours, Emma. I have been yours, and I will remain yours all the days of my life.”

There was absolutely no chance at stopping from crying now, but the sensation was one of happiness. She was actually living a fairytale. Her, the once lost girl who never had a nickel to her name, or a friend to keep her going. She had survived the cruelest affairs of the heart. She had been so terribly and tragically alone, but she persisted, and she learned, through the grace of her son, and the courage of her convictions, to live. Now with Killian she was starting anew, building up the small life she’d shared with Henry into something much bigger. To say she was exited at the prospect was an understatement.

“Emma Swan, will you -,”

“I want to adopt Cecelia!” Emma said abruptly, blurting out a seemingly unrelated fact in the middle of what had been the most beautiful proposal. She was mortified, but only for a moment. Because the smile on Killian’s face calmed the storm inside her.

“Ah, right. You see, I had anticipated that, though in the interest of full disclosure I envisioned this part of the conversation after your reply to the proposal. Regardless, I offer you this, love.”

Emma watched as he juggled the ring and instinctively she took it, holding the box and sparing another glance at the absolutely beautiful band. Her fingers itched to put it on now, but she knew it would be so much better to let Killian do the honors. She then watched in amazement as he pulled out a series of papers from inside his jacket. He opened the file containing them all and showed her an application for adoption. The child in question was Cecelia, and the forms listed both Emma and Killian as petitioning guardians. Now she was completely overwhelmed. He knew every single part of her. Every hope. Every dream. He was perfect.

“Family is so much more than blood, Swan, as we both know, and I think we’ve known for sometimes that Cecelia will always be our princess.”

“Yes,” Emma whispered. Yes to everything, yes to all of it.

“I’ve also spoken to Henry, not intentionally per se, wanting to speak with you first, but it would mean the world to adopt him as well. I don’t know how you’d feel about that, but I-,”

“Yes,” she said again, this time with even more conviction.

“Yes?” he asked with a hopeful grin and she nodded. “Well in that case. May I, love?”

She handed him the papers which he put down beside them with care. Emma watched as he took the ring box back from her other hand. He settled down on bended knee again, preparing himself for another attempt at asking her to marry him. It took everything in her to bite her tongue and let him actually get the request out.

“Emma Swan, love of my life, light of my spirit, and queen of my heart, will you please do me the honor of becoming my wife.”

“Yes.”

Everything from there went quickly as he slipped the ring on her finger, tossing the box without care to the group. Killian was up at full height in mere moments, pulling her in for a scorching kiss and Emma was complete. It may not have been a totally according to plan proposal, but Emma believed what they had was even better, because it was real and true and filled with so much love. She could think of no better way to start a beautiful forever, and when they pulled back, resting their foreheads against each other and soaking in the moment, Emma let out a sigh of sheer relief. This was what they meant when they said happily ever after, and it was so very worth the wait.

“I don’t think I’ve ever been so happy,” Emma murmured aloud.

“Neither have I,” an emotional voice said – only it wasn’t Killian. The voice continued. “Truly beautiful.”

“Gran,” Killian muttered shaking his head. Emma bit her lip and covered her mouth. They had absolutely just been caught out here, but when they both turned to see their unexpected audience, consisting of Killian’s family, Elsa and Anna, and Henry and Cecelia, a different person outside of all the rest, was revealed to be the culprit.

“You take that back, Killian, for you know better than that,” Gran said, standing beside a dressed up and dazzling looking Mrs. Hubbard. Mr. Hubbard was there too, his hand on Henry’s shoulder and his leg being held onto by a very friendly Cecelia. Emma never expected to see her dear, sweet neighbors. Their appearance here in Montenarro left her floored.

“My new friends are a treat, believe me,” Gran continued, walking forward, and seemingly giving everyone else the silent permission to do the same. “But their spying skills need work. I would never speak through such a moment, nor rustle these hedges with quite so much gusto. Not to worry though, they’ll learn.”

Everyone descended in that moment to wish them all well, but the most important reactions came from Henry and from Cecelia. The happiness of both of these kids – their kids – gave Emma tremendous joy and satisfaction. She was also thrilled to share this with their blended family, and with the friends who had become such strong bonds in her new life. After much congratulations, everyone returned to the party, and an announcement was made. If Emma believed the reaction to be enthusiastic from her loved ones, it was even bolder from all of the children at the center. Indeed, the happiness and infectious sense of hope made for the best party any of them had ever been to, and created an afternoon like none she’d ever experienced.

Hours later, Emma was still reeling from the high, and loving the fact that she and Killian had stayed together all day. He’d never let her go after her saying yes, always beside her, supporting her, adoring her, and loving her endlessly. She was so happy with him, but as the day drew to a close, her spirits dampened slightly. In his usual form, Killian caught on immediately.

“What’s the matter, love?” he asked, sure that no one else was listening, even though they were still amidst the party.

“Nothing,” Emma said automatically, though that was only half true. “This is one of the best days of my life. It’s just… the waiting…”

“Aye, I’ve considered that too. But I think I’ve arrived at a workable solution.” Emma looked at him curiously. “I will submit for a special license from the crown. The King and I are on decent terms you see.”

“Decent, huh?” Emma teased, looking over at Liam and finding him swaying with Elsa on a makeshift dance floor. There wasn’t even any music playing, but to this happy couple, and to the children dancing nearby, that didn’t matter in the slightest.

“He’s been in better spirits of late, as you might imagine.”

“Seems to be going around.”

“Mmm,” Killian hummed out, running his hand along her cheek and looking at her with sincerity and bliss. “We can have everything arranged in a week. It’ll be quite the undertaking, but the staff is up to the challenge.”

“A week?” Emma said, not believing it. Surely it must take longer than that, but she loved the idea. In truth, she’d marry him right now if she could. “Can we really do that?”

“Just say the word, Emma.”

“Yes,” she said nodding. “It’s crazy. Actually it’s totally insane, but yes, please, yes.”

“As you wish,” he replied kissing her again under the party lights and lighting her aflame once more. “In the meantime, I’ve no wish to be apart. We should be together, love, as long as that’s what you want.”

“I do.”

“Everything’s ready. I’ve been working for weeks on it. The rooms for Henry, for Cecelia, all of it. It’s merely a matter of moving your things in, all of which can be done tonight.”

“You’re serious?” Emma asked and he nodded.

“A magistrate’s already granted temporary custody for Cecelia. You can take her home now while the process continues. Please, love, say you’ll all come home to me.”

Emma looked over to Henry and to Cecelia, who were dancing together on the floor. Emma watched as her son already took so well to his new sister, and as if she’d conjured his attention, Henry glanced her way. He waved, a sign that Emma returned. Drawing attention to them set Cecelia in motion, and soon the little girl was dragging Henry across the party. Soon enough they were back together, the four of them a new but undoubtedly permanent unit. Cecelia jumped into Killian’s arms, and Henry came to Emma’s side looking up with his knowing expression.

“What’s up, Mom?” he asked and Emma smiled, unable to resist pulling him and pressing a kiss to the crown of his head.

“How would you feel about moving to Killian’s house -,”

“Our house,” Killian stressed and Emma chuckled.

“Sorry, our house, tonight?”

“That would be awesome!” Henry said excitedly. “Can we do that?”

“Aye.”

“And me too?” Cecelia asked hopefully.

“Yes, honey, you too,” Emma said, brushing a stray curl from Cecelia’s face. The kids made their feelings known. They were in, totally and completely. “Well I guess we have our answer then.”

“Aye, love. The best of answers, all around.”

And so, later that night, when the festivities of the day had ended, and the children all departed, Emma and Killian, Henry and Cecelia all headed home together, enjoying their first night in a place that would always be theirs. And though Emma knew they were in for a crazy week of planning and party design, and wedding wildness, she was truly joyful. For this was a life beyond her wildest dreams, and she knew, deep down to her core, that it was going to be breathtaking.

Post-Note: So… what did you think? Personally, I found it SO cathartic to write this scene. It’s been such a long time coming and I have pictured this outcome for Emma and for Killian even before writing the first word of this story. Almost a year ago to the day this story came to me, and my hope is to write out the final chapter by the one year anniversary in early May. Hopefully it won’t take quite so long, but please know that it has been a joy to write this and share with all of you. I hope this chapter and this fic have brought some brightness to your world and some magic to your moment. This has been an insane time, but I’ve been grateful to share it with all of you. Anyway, hope you all enjoyed, and I’d love to hear what your hopes for the end of this story are. Until next time, wishing you all well and healthy and safe! xE.

[official-weasley]

The Irreplaceable Charlie Weasley: Pt. 5, Ch. 9

PART 5: THE YEAR WHEN EVERYONE FIGHTS Chapter 9 - The O.W.L.s and a Letter

Nova

The morning before my first O.W.L. which was from Care of Magical Creatures, so I couldn't help to be a little nervous as I still held Kettleburn by his word that I could take care of a Salamander if I get an O on my O.W.L., I made my way down with Tulip for breakfast. Bill, Charlie, Penny, and Tonks were already there and they greeted us as we sat down.

“Nervous, you three?” Penny asked, looking at Tonks, Charlie, and me.

“Nope.” Charlie and I both said at once.

“I think that I have third wheeled with these two enough to pass the class.” Tonks pointed at us.

“What do you mean third wheeled?” I asked puzzled. I looked at Charlie who just chuckled. I still haven't managed to figure out what was different about him. He has always been a tranquil person but ever since we made up he seemed so okay with everything and if something happened that made me confused he just chuckled like now or winked at me. And I knew that was new, as Charlie was too shy to wink at an animal let alone to me, or any girl for that matter.

Before any of them could reply it was time for Owl Post and I saw Pip searching for me.

“Hi, Pippy!” I greeted him and took the letter from his beak. He made his way to Charlie at once.

I stared at the envelope, without knowing what to do. I haven't gotten a blue envelope with a golden stamp since my dad passed away.

“What's wrong?” Charlie knew something wasn't right immediately, placing his hand on my shoulder.

“It...it's from Egypt.” I was still holding on to the letter and now we all stared at it as if it was going to open itself.

“What do you reckon is about?” Penny asked as gently as she could.

“I have no idea.” I replied. I looked at Charlie and he nodded for me to open it. I turned it around and broke the seal. I took out the parchment and started reading. I appreciated that Charlie pulled away from me so I could read the letter in private, even though I would've shown him the letter anyway.

Dear Nova,

I hope this letter finds you well.

I don't know if your mum told you but we are still unable to fill your father's position. The interns we got this Summer were nothing compared to the boys he trained last year.

We decided to go through his files and found a recommendation letter in the folder of William Weasley.

If I recall correctly, he is your friend and he got the internship because you told your father that his ambition is to become a Curse Breaker. Upon looking through his file, we were quite impressed and your dad wrote and I quote “he is a rising star in the Curse Breaking community”. Upon seeing his birth year, I would assume he is in his books studying for N.E.W.T.s right now but just in case I have miscalculated something, I was wondering if you would be so kind and give him this letter.

We would be delighted to hear from him and offer him your father's position if he is still interested in working with us. Of course, he would have to go through several training exercises and the whole procedure like everyone else, but I don't want to bore you with the details.

I greatly appreciate your help and know that despite what happened, you still have family here that you can visit.

A warm greeting from us all here in Egypt,

Robert

A tear ran down my cheek, as I finished the letter. I looked up, everybody was still looking at me.

“It's for you.” I looked at Bill and gave him the letter across the table gently smiling. Tulip and Penny, sitting next to him, peaked and read it with him.

“They're offering me your dad's job?” Bill couldn't believe it. Charlie took the letter from him at once and read it along with Tonks who sat next to him.

“What are you going to do?” Charlie asked, pulling me in a half hug after he was done reading.

“What do you mean what will I do?” I looked at Bill. “Bill has to reply to them not me.” I smiled.

“Are you sure, Nova? It's your dad's position.” He asked.

“If it's up to me if you get the job or not, I wouldn't want anyone else to take his place but you, Bill.” I stood up and walked to the other side and hugged him.

“Nova, I don't know what to say. How will I ever repay you?” Bill was in shock. He squeezed me so tightly, that I let out a small sigh.

“You don't need to repay me, Bill. You're my friend and the amount of help I have received from you over the past 5 years makes us even, don't you think?” I smiled at him.

“Nova, thank you.” He still couldn't grasp the fact that he just got his dream job.

“Just stay my friend and promise to write to us and send me pictures from Egypt.” He hugged me again.

“Oh,” I pulled away and cupped his face, “and please, stay safe.” He nodded and for a second I could swear I saw him tear up.

He went to the Gryffindor Tower immediately to gather everything he might need to send with his answer.

“That was so nice of you, Nova.” Penny wiped a tear off her cheek.

“I didn't do anything. He deserves it, he has been working so hard for this and I remember when my dad told me how impressed he was with him. I wouldn't have it any other way.” I didn't feel like I needed credit for his hard work. Yes, I got him the internship but he wouldn't have received this letter if he didn't show hard work, talent, and determination.

“Thank you.” Charlie suddenly pulled me into a tight hug. “It means a lot to me that you did this for my brother.” Suddenly, I couldn't help but take a bit of credit for the whole situation, as it meant the world to me that I made Charlie happy.

—

To say that Charlie and I aced our Care of Magical Creatures examination was an understatement. We walked out of there like we were the best wizards in the world and we didn't expect anything less.

I have to say that so far I was very proud of how I did on my O.W.L.s. I do have some doubts about Potions and I am not sure about a few questions on the Herbology theoretical exam, but other than that I think I have nothing to worry about. Charlie had some mixed feelings about his Potions practical exam because he forgot to add an ingredient to his potion but he is pretty content with everything else.

Tulip said that based on the fact how little she studied, she was doing pretty good. Jae was doing just fine as well and apparently, those two had a really good chat in the Kitchens about their careers as Tulip didn't worry about it at all after that day.

Penny was beaming when she left the Great Hall after the Potions' practical. Of course, we weren't surprised at all that she would ace that. She worried about Defense Against the Dark Arts as she forgot the proper wand movement for the Blasting Curse but we reassured her that that is not a big mistake.

Tonks was doing rather well. We made a plan to take extra precautionary measures so that she wouldn't run away again: we gave her Pip. He was the perfect agent! She felt obliged to look after him and he kept her company when she studied and she revised with him and he hooted cheerfully at her and so far she has been doing great. She is confident about her performance so far and we are all very proud of her. Especially Penny! Every time she sees Tonks studying she bursts into tears of joy.

We were heading down to the Great Hall for our last O.W.L.: History of Magic. On one hand, I was glad we had the subject saved for last as I didn't worry about how I'll do on the examination at all but on the other hand, I couldn't wait to be over with it as it lingered in my mind.

We were sad to find out that we would receive our results in the middle of the Summer. Tulip and I promised each other that we are not going to open any of Penny's letters until we get the results as we knew that would be all she would write about and that she is going to panic until the very last moment when she realizes just how perfect her results are.

—

I got a letter from my mum in the last week of my Fifth Year. I wasn't even that surprised when she told me that she was bombarded with work and probably won't be able to spend as much as two days with me because she took so much time off last Summer. She suggested I talk to my friends if I can stay with any of them because she couldn't bear the thought of me being alone in our house.

To be perfectly honest, I was okay with her letter. She had the entire Summer off last year and I was so happy that we were able to spend it together that I didn't mind if I couldn't spend this one with her as well. And besides, I knew I was going to make one redhead Dragon lover very happy by not going away with my mum.

Penny was very pleased to announce that this year, there will be the Official Haywood Muggle Vacation so I knew I couldn't spend the Summer with her even if I wanted to. Tulip was going to Asia with her parents to visit some relatives. Tonks was going away as well and for the first time, she looked happy to go somewhere with her parents. I think she finally realized that they love her and want the best for her. She even announced that her first name might not be so bad.

Tulip and I were both grateful that she didn't say that in front of Penny as we both knew she would jump to Tonks for a hug and start sobbing about how proud she is of her for finally growing up.

—

I decided to surprise Charlie with the news that I am spending the Summer at the Burrow. I know how upset he was that I wasn't there last year. I decided to write a letter to Molly to politely invite myself to their beautiful home. I knew she would say yes as Bill already asked me weeks before if I will be able to visit them because Ginny and Ron miss me so much.

A few days before the end of term, Pip greeted me with Molly's reply, when we were having breakfast. I opened it, hiding it from Charlie, which he found very suspicious and it made him want to read it even more.

Nova dear,

you know we would love to have you for the Summer. Ginny and Ron are going to be thrilled when I tell them! The twins miss you too and I know Charlie would want you nowhere else.

See you soon! Arthur and I will pick you up at the Station along with the boys.

Love,

Molly

“Hey, Char.” I looked at him, grinning.

“Yes?” He was still eyeing the letter, curious to know who wrote to me.

“Guess who's spending their Summer at the Burrow!” I exclaimed and showed him the letter. He read it, his eyes moving quickly then he looked at me, the most serious expression on his face.

“I don't understand, who's coming?” I blinked at him as I couldn't see how the letter didn't make it obvious.

“I'm kidding, Nova! Of course, you're coming! You have to make up for last year.” He started laughing, seeing the expression on my face.

“For a second I really thought you didn't want me there.” I felt relieved. Every year he was complaining about how I don't spend enough time with him during Summer and now all of a sudden I thought he didn't want me to come.

“Nova, I always want you there.” He winked at me and smiled in a way that I have never seen him do before and I felt something turning in my stomach. I knew at once that he was over the roof about me coming to the Burrow but in a way that wouldn't completely give it away to those who didn't know him as I did.

What was he doing to me? It was a completely new side of Charlie that I have never seen before and I am not going to lie, I was attracted to it. It was as he was two people in one body. One was my loving best friend for who I would give the world for and the other was this cool, calm young man with strong arms and soft hair.

“Earth to Nova, you alright?” He chuckled.

“Yeah, right here.” I smiled at him, feeling the heat on my cheeks. “I was just counting the times I will beat you in Quidditch.” Nice comeback Nova, nice comeback.

“Oh, we'll see about that.” He pulled me into a half hug and I couldn't stop my lips from curving when I smelled honeysuckle on him. It was my favorite scent.

—

When I came to the Weasleys, the house looked like they had a party that lasted for 3 days. I guess the older the twins the bigger the mess. Ginny held me in a hug for solid 5 minutes before Ron told her to bugger off so he could have his turn. He started telling me about his new chess strategy immediately and even though I already knew I was going to lose, I couldn't help but be excited for him to show it to me.

The twins asked me at once if I would like to see something in their room and when I looked at Bill and Charlie, both shaking their head, warning me that I rather shouldn't, I politely declined, even though I knew they were going to show me whatever it was sooner or later.

Percy went upstairs at once but came back down with a book and sat on the sofa to read for a change. Which to me was quite an improvement since I don't think I ever saw him for more than 10 minutes, even when it came to breakfast or dinner.

The day to receive our O.W.L.s results finally came. Bill got his N.E.W.T.s the day before and he was so calm about it since he accepted the job Robert offered him that I was curious how nervous would he be if he didn't know he had a job secured. Nevertheless, he had nothing to worry about as he received a total of 6 N.E.W.T.s which was 2 above average and even though the results didn't matter anymore, giving the fact that he could now officially call himself a Curse Breaker, he was proud of himself.

Charlie seemed completely unphased by the results as he was confident that he did well in most of his subjects and I wasn't that nervous either. I just wanted to see an O next to my Care of Magical Creatures so I could adopt a Salamander next year!

We got our results delivered first thing in the morning. We each grabbed our envelope and much to everyone's displeasure, we decided we wanted to take a private moment and share our results only with each other first. We sat on the bench in the garden and opened our letters.

ORDINARY WIZARDING LEVEL RESULTS

Pass Grades:

Outstanding (O)

Exceeds Expectations (E)

Acceptable (A)

Fail Grades:

Poor (P)

Dreadful (D)

Troll (T)

NOVA IO BLACKWOOD HAS ACHIEVED:

Ancient Runes E

Astronomy A

Care of Magical Creatures O

Charms O

Defense Against the Dark Arts O

Herbology E

History of Magic A

Potions E

Transfiguration O

“How did you do?” Charlie asked me and I knew he did well just by his tone.

“9 O.W.L.s! 4 Outstandings!” I exclaimed.

“3 Outstandings and 8 O.W.L.s!” We exchanged results.

CHARLES WEASLEY HAS ACHIEVED:

Ancient Runes E

Astronomy E

Care of Magical Creatures O

Charms O

Defense Against the Dark Arts O

Herbology E

History of Magic P

Potions A

Transfiguration E

“History of Magic is nobody's strong suit.” I tapped his shoulder. He looked at me, trying to be serious but I could see he was going to burst out laughing any moment now.

“Oh, no. Whatever will I do!” We started laughing as we really couldn't care less for the subject and ran inside to tell the Weasleys.

I sent my mum the results at once and that afternoon I received an owl from Penny which I was expecting and would worry if I didn't. She wrote that she got all her 9 O.W.L.s from which she got 6 Outstandings and 3 Exceeds Expectations and I had to remind myself that the next time I see her I have to say 'I told you so' as none of us expected anything less from her. She also added that Andre did really well on his exams and that he got an E in Potions and she wrote that he is thanking me because he passed Transfiguration and that they were going to meet up next week to celebrate as Andre was very grateful for Penny's help.

“I bet he was.” Said Bill who was reading the letter over my left shoulder. I didn't see his face but I knew that he had a smirk on his face before he took a sip of his coffee.

“Do you reckon they're doing it?” Charlie, who was leaning over my right shoulder, asked as casually as Tonks did only a few months ago. I knew he only posed the question so he would make Bill spit out his coffee and I knew what the look on his face was when he succeeded.

Tulip sent me an owl the next morning and she got 7 O.W.L.s which was 2 more than she expected and said that even her parents were okay with her results.

We didn't hear anything from Tonks that day or the next day for that matter. Charlie and I got worried so we decided to send her a letter with Pip.

He returned with a letter in his beak the very next day and in it were Tonks' results.

NYMPHADORA TONKS HAS ACHIEVED:

Astronomy A

Care of Magical Creatures E

Charms E

Defense Against the Dark Arts O

Divination P

Herbology O

History of Magic P

Potions O

Transfiguration E

“SHE GOT AN O IN POTIONS?” For a second both Charlie and I thought that we were seeing wrong or that the results belonged to Penny as we stared at the O next to Tonks' Potions result. We couldn't believe it and we now understood why she didn't send us an owl the very day the results arrived. She was probably just as shocked as we were.

We knew Penny will probably cry for a week out of happiness and will never forget it. And I could already see her throwing it in Tonks' face if she freaks out about exams next year “Tonks, you have nothing to complain about. You got an O on your Potions O.W.L. last year!”

We all got very good results and we were pleased with them but I think Tonks outdid us all and I couldn't wait to sit with my friends on the train back to school when she tells us how in the bloody hell, did she managed to do that.

END OF PART 5

[zpetlovesglitter]

The Wicked Powers Theories

The Wicked Powers has recently been getting me excited WAY too much - which says a lot about how weird I am since Cassie hasn’t even started on it yet (LOL).

aND, so, I kind of thought it’d be nice to jot down some predictions and theories on how the series might go and maybe some thoughts on THE SHIPS (that really do be the real TEA).

So.Here we go.And do let me know about any thoughts you have on this topic as well - I read anything about TWP like a crazed creature these days istg.

1)The POV has already been envisioned to be from Ty, Dru and Kit. I absolutely love this settlement since they are all very intriguing characters. Ty is an interesting person and his actions are always unpredictable, so we might enjoy this one. And,I believe he is at The Scholomance while the story progresses, followed by Livvy (Ghost Livvy, I mean).It’s still unclear what Livvy’s situation is, so I can’t wait to know more about that - it’s bound to be something unexpected. And, as for Dru, it’s kinda obvious. We all know that WE HAVE A LOVE TRIANGLE COMING UP. But, other than that, we also know she attends The Academy and finally starts to makes some friends and even has that really close Italian (..or was it Spanish???) Shadowhunter friend who’s her age and Cassie also revealed that the two are really tight indeed. And I will be honing in on the Love Triangle soon - I told you I’ll be trying to spill whatever tea I’m guessing at.  And, as for the last character WE HAVE KIT! OMFG YOU DO NOT KNOW HOW MUCH I LOVE OLDER BROTHER KIT.LIKE GOSH DARN IT HE IS SO ADORABLE AND MINA IS SO EFFING CUTE I CAN’T EVEN-                          AND KIT’S TRAINING WITH JEM AND HE IS GOING TO BE A WELL-TRAINED SHADOWHUNTER IN TWP, SO YAYYYY!! And, I absolutely CANNOT wait for MinaXKit interactions, they are the cutest siblings ever and I absolutely know that Mina grows up to be sarcastic. I can’t wait for the possible sarcastic arguments between Kit and 4-year old Mina. YOU THINK I FORGOT ABOUT KITxTY? NOPE.THE REAL SHET’S COMING UP.

2)Now,we know that the storyline is going to have something to do with that Faerie Heirloom that was from the Rosales Family. And, Cassie also said it was going to be kind of an Arthurian Legend-ish story. If you don’t know the Arthurian Legend, I suggest you read on it. I’m not sure if Cassie meant the characters and LOVE Aspect of it or the LEGEND aspect of it as in the stuff about Excalibur and all. But, for now we’ll view it in both and examine it, shall we?

King Arthur's reign ends after his wife and best knight have an affair.

This is the drama in the legend.But, there are no relationships with the MCs yet. So idk. I’m clueless. Like, maybe Dru has a relationship?? Okay I’m clutching at practically nothingness so don’t judge me. :/

So,it’s obviously something to do with the LEGEND.

I am afraid I cannot say too much about it, since I have never read too deeply about it. But, here’s some of the basics:

-He managed to pull out Excalibur from the rock it was stuck in.

-He wielded Excalibur for the people and not for his own self-interest.

-He gets help from a wizard named Merlin.

-The peeps go on a quest.

And I have this reference from a website..I’ll hit u with the link as well, if you’d like to read more on it like I did

Arthurian legend, the body of stories and medieval romances, known as the matter of Britain, centring on the legendary king Arthur. Medieval writers, especially the French, variously treated stories of Arthur’s birth, the adventures of his knights, and the adulterous love between his knight Sir Lancelot and his queen, Guinevere. This last situation and the quest for the Holy Grail (the vessel used by Christ at the Last Supper and given to Joseph of Arimathea) brought about the dissolution of the knightly fellowship, the death of Arthur, and the destruction of his kingdom.

(I’ve linked it with the text above.)

So,now I thought this was interesting- the destruction part. After all, it’s something I’m expecting about the Shadowhunters. Will the Clave maybe be destroyed? Or maybe Faerie will be destroyed? So,there were three things that brought on this uh Destruction.FIRST, his wife and his best buddy were going behind his back and doing them lovey-dovey stuff. And they all go on some quest to retrieve something important to them. So, this sounds like something plausible to be the plot of TWP. Maybe the Heirloom’s missing? And who goes on the quest though? Maybe they venture through Faerie? BLAH MY HEAD HURTS SOME THINGS ARE BETTER TO BE SURPRISED WITH ;)

-----I kinda scrolled back up while writing about Janus down there and remembered CLARY MIGHT BE TAKEN HOSTAGE LIKE YESS AND THEY GO FIND HER MAYBE?

3)We will defo see Christina, Mark and Kieran at some point- no worries, Emma and Julian too. Happy Couples! XD

4)So,then we can look forward to Dru and Jaime’s interactions. I am absolutely excited for this the most, as a shipper of the two. If you remember, we saw Jaime ignoring her for a while back there at the end of QOAAD and then he says “See ya at the Academy soon ig”. I really do hope they meet and hang out as friends, at least. I am excited to see what kind of trope it’s gonna be tho. Like, do they ignore each other and remain awkward until they start the adventure stuff in the book where they eventually have to talk to each other after years or smth. Or, maybe they’re really good friends rn. But, what I’ll warn y’all shippers is that they might not end up together, and could wind up as brother-sister-ish kind of best buddies. Which is equally cute a relationship imo. It’s a really sweet thing to be, really. I lowkey hope Cassie spins something beautiful for their relationship like a sibling-like best friends kind of thing. But, I feel like they might have feelings for each other in secret. Or maybe they date. Or maybe they suppress their secret-feelings for the sake of friendship later on in the book and end up having that really sweet friendship I was talking about.There are SO many options and that is precisely why I am so freaking excited.

5)JAIME ROCIO ROSALES.       Like, I have this gut feeling that he might end up being my fave male protagonist character in TSC. He’s got it ALL. Like, the sense of humour, the looks, the bubbly yet brooding personality, the quirks and OFC THE FRICKING NAME ITSELF IS CUTE AF LIKE BRUH I CANNOT WAIT TO READ ABOUT HIM.I have so much to say about Jaime but I’d rather we let ourselves simply wait for the crumbs Cassie might give us or maybe reread all his parts in TDA like I do everyday or just wait for the book to come out rather than simp for someone we know nothing about yet....

6)Ash Morgenstern.         He’s a cute lil bean.        That was random and untrue lmao. He’s not a ‘lil bean’. He’s totally badass with dem wings and all, but we know he’s soft inside for Janus and ofc Dru, I believe. I find him the most intriguing character, honestly. I would love to know what goes through his head. He’s actually, like, the one character in TSC that I don’t have all figured out. He gon surprise us all for sure tho. He is awesome. That’s all I have to say for now. And he looks up to Janus which is SO GODDAMN SWEET AHHHH. And THE WINGS I CANNOT WAIT TO READ MORE ABOUT THE WINGS IT SOUNDED SO BADASS ISTG I LITERALLY CANNOT WAIT GOSH DARN IT. But he really do be a cute lil bean lowkey tho.

7)Kit and Ty LOL. I have no words really. But lemme tell you how it might go. There is definitely going to be some kind of reunion. AND THEN THAT’S WHERE IT GETS CUTE. They could either be awkward and we know what tension that gets us-perhaps some whisperings of My Watson...(?  ;) and maybe they go all sad and brooding with dem looks later OR, they could be the sweetie-pies they were before and be happy and all HIII BUDDDYYYY MISSED YAAA LESS GO BE DETECTIVES YAY BURN IT UP MAH BUDDY!! Either way it’s going to be cute af and we know it . TRUST IN CASSIE Y’ALL.I trust Cassie to let this ship sail the seven seas and seven more like it deserves.

8)Ash and Dru So, Ash has a strange lil fixation on Dru and I believe he even thought she was ‘pretty’ or something. It was definitely a good adjective, but I think he said ‘pretty’. idk but we know he likes her. and I can imagine a nice relationship. I can picture them with her hair flying in the wind and they meet for the first time or smth. IHNI WHAT IM SAYING. But, there will be DRAMA. They are going to be real cute with each other YOU CAN BET ON THAT.And, by cute I do not necessarily mean ‘Oh, you have the loveliest eyes’ or some shet like that. I have a feeling it’s going to be a case of ‘Well,that’s not weird or anything YOU WEIRDO - NO U - NO U - NO U’ However this relationship is going to go, I know that it’ll be a sweet one.And, for all you shippers of these two, I have no assurances that HE IS THE ONE or anything but he is definitely a candidate. Jaime is going to be some competition I can tell. So, idk. It depends on the Jaime x Dru ship to decide things for Ash x Dru ship imo, since it might be a no-brainer if the two have feelings for each other- I mean,Jaime is an actually perfect love interest in TSC, while Ash is strong potential Best-Friend material, so it’s ONLY if Jaime and Dru don’t like each other that way that Ash could make it as a love interest. So, if y’all wanna find out what’s in it for you guys, ask Cassie maybe about how the Jaime x Dru ship might go, the next time u wanna ask her ;)

9)Tavvy and maybe the kid Helen and Aline might have had We were getting hints of another baby, so HERE WE GO.Tavvy might have a playmate. :D. YAYYYYYYYYYY

10)Janus  I’m honestly worried about him. He is a worrisome character. I hate empathising with the antagonist, personally. AAAAHHHH . I hope we see some character development in him. I really don’t want to see him as an antagonist in the story. He’s sweet and feels cheated, but he should realise that it ain’t Jace’s fault but SEBASTIAN’S fault. I would like for him to make amends with Jace :( And, also, he might get the story started in TWP tho idk. But, seriously tho, when he went home in that short story and Ash asked, “I thought you were gone forever?” or something of that sort and he shook his head sadly and Ash went soft for him. Like, that fricking broke my heart. I love this relationship tho. And, i hope Clary and him can be good friends. But, I feel like he might end up dying to save her or smth and make us all cry . T_T

11)WHAT TF IS GOING ON WITH THE SHADOWHUNTER POLITICS RN THO?HOW AND WHERE ARE THEY ALL SURVIVING TOGETHER WHAT IS THEIR SYSTEM AND STUFF THIS IS NOT A POINT WITH POTENTIAL THEORIES COZ HONESTLY I WANT TO BE SURPRISED BUT I THINK THEY MIGHT ALL JUST BE IN HIDING AND THEN IN TWP THEY MIGHT HAVE TO COME OUT FOR A QUEST OR SMTH AND WHAT IS HAPPENING TO THE SHADOWHUNTERS AT THE CLIMAX OF THIS WHOLE SERIES??? IT IS THE END OF TSC SO IM SCARED AND KINDA SAD TOO :(((((((

12)Thule We might learn more about the Thule world and maybe they restore it or maybe the Quest is in Thule. idk. we don’t know much, but Thule will most probably be explored a lot. Cassie wouldn’t have opened up Thule for no reason.

13)Zara and Emma  Showdown? Befriend e/o ? What’s in store for these two? If it’s a showdown we get to see CORTANA YAY I AM OBSESSED WITH CORTANA NOW BECAUSE OF CORDELIA AND HER OBSESSION GOSH DARN IT WHAT HAS HAPPENED TO ME

14)BIG WAR I see a huge war coming I just know it. It’s a climax so there MUST be a big war and so I cannot wait! Feel like there’s gonna be some deaths as well. Lowkey feel like Jia might die. I can feel it. :(

15)The best-friend shadowhunter of Dru is a nice thing to look forward to! I can’t wait to read about the two! And I love the fact that Dru is finally exposed to new people. And, for anyone who’s confused as to how she goes to the Academy, in QOAAD she only said she’ll have some maturity done AFTER some years .  Those years are over and she at the Academy now hecc yeah I BELIEVE THE BFF IS CALLED THAI AND SHE’S FROM THE SPANISH INSTITUTE CORRECT ME IF IM WRONG???

16)Magnus Bane He is literally everywhere. He gon be here too. No worries for all the Magnus Bane stans. He’ll make it here without a doubt!  Good for you :).  and the entire community of shadowhunters they literally always need him  17)THE MAIN MAIN PLOT THE SHADOWHUNTERS SHOWDOWN IS OBVIOUSLY GOING TO ALSO BE RELATED TO THE PRINCES OF HELL COMING TOGETHER AND I AM TOO SCARED TO LOOK TOO INTO IT BUT WE KNOW SHIZ COMING GNJODIFPEDWEFHUGBJ VM

18)THIS IS KINDA RANDOM BUT I CAN’T WAIT FOR THE SELF-ESTEEM GROWTH IN DRU LIKE PLEASE SHE QUEEN MWAH

[meg91596]

Family is All that Really Matters Chapter 6: Family moments and a new baby

Watching my three kids grow up together is heartwarming. I wish I was this close to my siblings. The only one I was close to was Derek. I’m nervous about how the twins will react to the baby, Scout was understanding when Paisley and Gabriel were born. Having a two-year-old and 14-month-old twins it is surprising the amount of energy one has when chasing kids especially being 9 months pregnant. I never had this energy with Scout, and the twins. Nor have I been pregnant this long with a baby. Link thinks this little girl has her own schedule even though I’m not sure she really wants to be apart of the family especially with how crazy this family can get.

“So how is little miss today?” Maggie asked. “Oh stubborn but good how’s Emilee doing?” I asked. “Well she’s doing good Winston and I are thinking about having another, but we aren’t sure if we are ready for another yet again Emilee maybe my only child if I don’t try for another child.” Maggie said. “Amelia what are you still working for shouldn’t you be on maternity leave by now?” Meredith asked. “Meredith I am going to work until this one comes she just has a mind of her own and honestly I don’t know if I can have her with Link away on a conference.” I said. “Amelia, I promised I would be here for you if that did happen.” Meredith said.

I worked for the day then took the kids home or more of Meredith took us to the house where Scout got excited to play with Bailey. Paisley liked playing with Ellis, and Zola. Gabriel just liked watching his brother and cousin from his walker. Zola and Ellis love to play baby with Paisley meaning walking her and playing mommy and sister. I guess that is advantage to Paisley having a little sister so close in age. I just hope my children aren’t like my own siblings when they are older. As I sat down, I felt a contraction but nothing too sharp that wanted me to go to the hospital. Honestly, I have been having them off and on all day.

“Amelia do you want to watch some home videos?” Meredith asked. “Sure, that would be fun.” I said. “Well I can dig them out I’m sure Zola would love to watch videos of when she was little and the ones that Derek recorded, and I recorded.” Meredith said. “Mommy did daddy ever video me?” Ellis asked. “Well Elle Belle daddy never meet you because he was in an accident before you were born.” Meredith said. “Mommy phone ringing.” Scout said. “Hello, Link how are you how’s the conference.” I said. “It’s good how are you doing? Has the baby decided to make any moves yet?” Link asked. “No not yet same as this morning, I think she’s waiting for you.” I said lying to my husband because I was having off and on contractions.

After watching home videos with the kids, we decided to go to bed early. I was comfy on the couch and the twins were already sleeping in the play pen. Scout went up to bed with Bailey. Meredith was concerned because I wasn’t acting the way I was previously earlier in the day. She decided to stay with me. It was an hour later that I woke up with a contraction that was a strong one. Meredith timed it because it was a long one. Meredith was sure that the baby was coming that she had called Deluca to come watch the kids. I told her that I was fine just before I had another contraction 5 minutes from the last one.

“Amelia the baby is coming we need to get you to the hospital.” Meredith said. “Meredith I have been through this before she’s got a mind of her own and won’t be here for awhile.” I said. “Okay Amelia.” Meredith said. “Mer I will let you know and right now I’m not ready nor is the baby.” I said. “Amelia she can’t stay there much longer your what 41 weeks pregnant?” Meredith asked. “Yes 41 weeks and 4 days along she just isn’t willing to come.” I said.

I fell asleep for about an hour ignoring several contractions within that hour. I went to the bathroom but was doubled down in pain. Meredith convinced me to go to the hospital but I didn’t want to go or have the baby because Link is not here. As soon as we got to the hospital Carina examined me and said that I was already 8 centimeters. I asked Meredith Facetime Link so that he could see the birth of his daughter. Link was there in spirit but Meredith coached me through the birth and delivery of the 7 pound infant girl. I held her while Link Facetimed me while looking at the baby. He said that he was on the next flight out and decided that his presentation can wait until next year as he really needed to be home for his children.

“So, Amelia what is her name?” Meredith asked. “Well we have a name for her but we are not 100% sure what her name is going to be.” I said. “Annabel Rosalie Shepherd Lincoln.” Link said. “Are you sure that’s the name we want to call her?” I asked. “Yes that is her name.” Link said “I like it she’s perfect welcome Annabel.” I said.

It was nearly 9:30 in the morning when Scout, Paisley, and Gabriel came for a visit. Scout automatically loved Annabel. Gabriel was the same, but Paisley wasn’t really thrilled about the baby. But she will eventually get used to little Anna. It was nearly lunch time when Link finally got to meet our daughter for the first time. He had a big smile and gave me a great big kiss for being so brave when he was away to bring our healthy baby girl into the world. We know that 4 kids under the age of 3 is going to be tricky but we are up for the challenge and will love these kids no matter what happens in our world between a virus, or other things that will stand in between our family. Meredith, Zola, Bailey, and Ellis came to see the baby as well and they loved her. Ellis asked if Anna was like a baby doll because she looks just like one of her baby dolls. Link and I smiled and told Ellis that she wasn’t a baby doll and that she was just a sweet little baby.

[unhallowedarts]

Since it’s almost September First and it’s been a rough year for the Harry Potter fandom, I thought I’d make a post of a few super cool canon facts about Harry Potter that you might have missed on your last read through! Here we go! 1. Ron and Ginny are actually the same person. She is introduced as “Ron” but after gaining self-confidence through the events of the first book she finally feels able to come out as a trans girl, which makes her mother embarassingly joyful because she finally has a daughter, and she fusses over her so much that Ginny almost misses the days when she thought she would always be overshadowed by her brothers. But not quite. 

2. That’s also why her demeanor changes so much between Book 1 and Book 2 -- since she’s also now realized -- though not admitted to anyone -- that she has a massive crush on her best friend and she’s also afraid of him judging her for being trans  -- which are is a totally unfounded worry cause Harry is about as observant as a brick wall and honestly if she wanted to she could have convinced him that she had been named Ginny all along but was too polite to tell him he got her name wrong.

3. Yes Harry and Ginny are obviously still in love and eventually get married. This is only slightly complicated when Malfoy undergoes his long-expected redemption arc which consists partly of admitting he’s been in love with Harry all along (as well as doing some very important learning and growing regarding his bigotry, obviously, but that’s not the fun part). But Ginny basically rolls her eyes and says “FINALLY, NOW KISS” and so from then on she introduces them all with the traditional “I’m Ginny and this is my boyfriend Harry and this is his boyfriend Draco.”

4. Book 5 actually contains about ten pages of “plot,” in which the Order devises a clever scheme that reveals Voldemort’s existance irrefutably to the world, which takes him so much by surprise that he has to take an entire year to make a new plan, so nothing else happens. The next 860 pages are a slow-burn Hermione/Luna story in which they learn to accomodate each others differences and fall in love, with help from McGonnagal and Trelawney who have been married for eighty years and have a very similar relationship.

5. Oh, also they’re all trans too. Actually, every woman in the series is trans except for Dolores Umbridge, Rita Skeeter, and Aunt Marge. And maybe Tonks -- she’s definitely a woman, but her Assigned Gender at Birth is oficially listed as “????!!!!!”

6. Speaking of Book 5, Sirius does NOT die, idk where you got that idea, and also Wolfstar always has been and always will be canon. Also as soon as Voldemort’s existance is revealed, Sirius is able to come out of hiding, get his name cleared, marry Remus, and adopt Harry. Then Harry goes to live with them because basing a familial love spell on GENETIC RELATIONSHIP AND NOTHING ELSE is both an incredibly thin contrived plot point and an incredibly damaging moral for children, so that’s obviously not how it works, what kind of monster would write something like that?

7. Also, I’ve been hearing about a whole bunch of characters who die in the Battle of Hogwarts and that’s actually??? Not true at all???? It’s pretty clearly stated that only three people die in the Battle of Hogwarts: Voldemort, Snape, and (temporarily) Harry. See, what happens is, since Harry is so long-suffering and his choice to die for everyone at Hogwarts is so pure, his death creates a love spell so powerful it not only protects everyone on the grounds but also brings everyone who died earlier in the battle back to life. I know some people consider this a pretty out-of-the-blue deus-ex-machina but a) I’ll take a happy deus-ex-machina over a bunch of deaths just for shock value any day, and b) actually it makes perfect sense because it’s a great use of irony -- Voldemort spends all his life trying to defeat death by being evil when really the only thing that can literally defeat death is love. BAM.

8. Oh, sorry, correction, I forgot there is one other person who stayed dead: Fred Weasley decided it would be WAY FUNNIER if he came back as a ghost, so that’s what he did. 

9. Harry and Ginny’s baby is named after the two bravest people they know: Rubeus Minerva Weasley-Potter.

[vikingsagine]

My Loyalty Is Yours (Ivar x Reader)

Hey, this one. I like it but its kinda long. Don’t know how long it is. but yerp. Love my cripple God Ivar the Boneless, kind of miss his ruthless behavior. Miss that psycho tang he had in season 5. Can’t wait for the finale. (Admire my beautiful crazy baby)

Summary : Reader is interrogated by Bjorn to why you were imprisoned instead of fighting for Ivar, the man you dedicated your life to. You are his right hand, his most trusted and most loyal.

Warning: Violence. Mentions of rape. Pretty sad. Death.

“Why are you still here?” Gruff and tough. You were on your knees, hands tied behind your back, body tattered and bruised from torture. Bjorn sat with pride on the dark throne, carved from maple oak wood, where not too long ago you were standing next to. Not sitting, not below but standing beside. Now, a bloody mess grovelling at the hands of another ruler. “Why were you imprisoned and not fighting for my brother?” He leaned forward, light silver-ish eyes boring into yours with such dominant demeanour, it reminded you of a hunter looking down on its prey.

“It’s good to see you too, Bjorn Ironside.” Your voice was dry from the long days of imprisonment. The lack of food and water and rest. Your lips curved upwards smugly and spat the blood that kissed your teeth. Pushing yourself into a comfortable position, you spread your legs forward and slumped against the man standing behind you. A grunt leaving your lips. “I’m surprised to see you but, somewhat...happy.”

“Enough.” You knew Bjorn Ironside, you knew his brothers, Ubba, Hviserk, Singurd and especially Ivar. After the disappearance of Ragnar Lothbrook, when all the boys were teenagers and older, you made an appearance. In fact, it was exactly in the same predicament you’re in now. On your knees, bleeding and at the mercy of the ruler of Kattegat. “Answer me woman or I swear by the Gods that I will not hesitate to kill you right here, right now.” Bjorn was impatient, his fists clenched and teeth seethed waiting for your response. Your excuse.

“It’s simple, I couldn’t do Ivar’s bidding anymore.” When you arrived in Kattegat many years ago, you had a purpose. A clear and meaningful reason for your living. It was to serve and protect Ivar from everything and anything. All your life before Kattegat and the sons of Ragnar, it was about survival and fulfilling the wishes of the Gods. The visions or dreams of a sort that haunted you every night, led you to Kattegat. “I betrayed him.” The words felt venomous like burning water poured down your throat. You could taste the metallic flavour of your own blood.

“Tch and how do you suppose I should believe what you say?” Bjorn scoffed, intrigued by your honest response. It was a private meeting, with only you, the King of Kattegat, Ubba and his wife and Lagertha. They all stared and listened intently. 

“Bjorn’s right, (Y/N). We all know of your dedication towards my little brother. What reason is there for you to betray him even though, I recall, your purpose was to serve and protect him.” Ubba finally spoke, his striking blue orbs filled with conflict of pain but also righteousness. It wasn’t easy for him to see the girl he once thought as a little sister and a good friend, covered in different wounds that were dripping with blood and crusting from dirt and rotting flesh. You missed Ubba. His gentle and kind heart. You missed having his friendship, the days of endless drinking and dancing and fighting. “Does your loyalty change?”

“Ubba. My sweet and gentle Ubba.” The memory still seemed fresh yet so far away. The days where you’d share stories and laugh over a cup of ale as he tried to flirt with other women and as you watched longingly at Ivar. They were all turned to ash when your swords met during the fight over Kattegat, working alongside Ivar and King Harald and Hvitserk. “I don’t wish you to believe me. That is your own choice and decision, a right I do not own.” Ubba frowned at your answer, not at all proving a reason to keep you alive. “However, I am still loyal to Ivar. I always will be.” Ubba’s jaw clenched, expecting a different response and the hope behind his warm ocean orbs, crushed. 

“I don’t understand. You say you betray Ivar but yet, still loyal to him. That does not make sense.” Torvi spoke up from beside her husband, beautiful blonde hair glowing like pure ember that her murderous and calloused hands betrayed. You knew she was a strong woman and you smiled, happy that Ubba found a great wife and shieldmaiden. 

“I did not betray Ivar the way you think I did.” You remember the exchange, vividly. The night you wanted out. The night you refused Ivar’s wishes. The night he broke your heart. Letting out a long sigh, you closed your eyes and reminisced in the painful memory. All of it came back to you like an arrow diving into your heart. The tears, the emotions, the words, the blood, the action and the choice. “Two moons before the attack, Queen Freydis gave birth to the supposed divine son of God Ivar.” Your voice mocked the word God as if talking to the self-proclaimed man himself. Imagining the scowl crossing his face and then the bitter insult he’d snark back. “The boy, you see, was...different. He wasn’t what Ivar expected. He saw him as himself, crippled and ruined. And so, he ordered me to kill him. To kill his own child.” Your eyes locked with Bjorn’s filled with burning tears and suppressed emotions. “And I did. I left him out in the cold, leaving the crying babe to defend for itself. Left it for a pack of foxes that ended up eating him, but even still, the baby was dead beforehand because it was too cold.” Your voice started to shake, recalling the cries, the innocent shrieks of a pleading and freezing child in the middle of the forest on a sharp winter night. 

“No, no, you didn’t. Y-you couldn’t have. Ivar forced you to, the (Y/N) I knew wouldn’t have done that. She wouldn’t of-.” Ubba intervened, distraught by the news and took a few steps closer to your hunched figure. His eyes pleading for you to be joking as sick as it was, he hoped you were lying, kidding. But you weren’t.

“You’re wrong.” You snapped, aimed your stern glare towards your best friend. “I did Ubba. It may have been Ivar’s wish, but I could have rejected, I could have chosen otherwise. The girl you were once friends with, is long gone.” It was true, all that time you spent with Ivar had changed you. Slowly but surely twisting that once righteous and somewhat innocent soul into nothing but a slave to a monster. A heartless and dutiful dog. You took another deep breath, swallowing the emotions clogged in your throat and returned your famous stoic and expressionless mask. “But after that night, I could no longer do it anymore. I could no longer be that person and I told him, I was done. I was done with killing innocents and slaughtering the people I grew up with. But oh no, it was not a good enough reason. Ivar screamed and yelled and we were like that for a while.”

“Ivar, I’m done.” You uttered barely above a whisper, standing in front of your supposed God with the cold of the night's air still nipping at your cheeks and fingertips. The merciless man froze in his seat, motioning for his men to quiet and turned away from his wife who was clueless by your doings. 

“What did you say?” His tone was gentle and soft but still filled with cruelty and opposing anger. The fire behind his icy blue eyes burned like wildfire. The smile, however fake it may be, was dangerous and deadly. Daring you to speak again. His men soon noticed his change of behaviour and lowered their heads, their flappering mouths came to a pause but their ears burned with curiosity.

“You heard me, I’m done. I cannot do this anymore.” 

“Please, leave us.” Ivar spoke calmly, waiting for his men and wife to leave the room. To leave you two alone to discuss the current matter. It was normal. Mundane for you two to argue about things, his battle tactics, his childish behaviour or your reckless demeanour and your hostile behaviour towards everyone. Soon enough, it was just you and him. 

“I will be leaving Kattegat at first light tomorrow morning. I wanted to tell you this before going and to inform you that Hvitserk is now the leader of your armies before the attack from Bjorn and King Harald.” You stood, waiting for a reply from Ivar. You did not expect him to huff, lean back into his chair and continue eating his meal.

“You can’t.” He hummed, a smile spreading across his lips.

“And why can’t I?” His immature behaviour pushed your buttons. 

“Because I rule over you and you are mine. Bound to me by the fates of the Gods, you say so yourself.” Ivar spoke smugly, happy with himself and thought his reasoning to be perfect and completely reasonable. “Besides, why would you leave? You have everything that you need and could ever want. You have done nothing wrong.” You were left awestruck for a split second. Staring at Ivar like he’d grown two heads. 

“Nothing wrong?” Your voice picked up in disbelief, your voice beginning to falter as your heart pounded and your mind sped up. Flashes of obeying his orders coming to mind. All the deaths, all the screams, all the killing on your hands. “Nothing wrong!? Ivar, I just finished killing your son! Your baby! And you think that is everything I want and need?!” You were glad everyone had left and that the walls were made with solid timber and the clash of thunder and rain roared outside. Ivar snapped his head back, not liking the way you raised your tone at him as if you were superior. 

“Do not talk to me as if I am lesser than you.” Ivar growled and grabbed his crutch to stand up and limped towards your figure draped in leather and cloth. His eyes widened and glared down at you. 

“I am not speaking to you as if you are lesser than me, I am yelling at you because I am angry.” You could feel thick tears burn your placid brown orbs, ready to spill and your throat ready to crack. “I am angry and tired of killing people. That is all I do and see Ivar. Is death. Is blood. All their bodies. People I know, people that have once called me friends, I killed in cold blood. All because of...all because…” You couldn’t finish the sentence, Ivar’s heated gaze trapped on you and breathing in every word you screamed wholeheartedly. 

“All because of what, hmm? All because of what? Go on, finish the sentence. All because of me, right?” His voice seethed, his tone dark and heavy as he leaned in closer to your face so you could hear and feel his wrath through his breathing. “Yes, blame me. Blame me like I forced you to do that. I gave you a choice. Everytime, I told you, you didn’t have to do it. But yet, you accepted. So, this...this isn’t just my fault. This is your doing too. You had a choice to make, to walk with clean hands or to kill for me?” Both Ivar’s hands came around your shoulders, squeezing tight and his nails dug into your clothes. “You think I wanted you to kill my son, huh?! You think I wanted that? No, I did not! But I wasn’t going to have him grow up just like I did. A cripple. A laughingstock for everyone. A reason to pity. A harder life to live.” You stared up at him with shocked facials, staring at the pure and passionate emotions he was displaying. 

“And that gives you the right? That’s supposed to make me feel better. To make me feel like I’m no longer a monster.” You shoved his hands off of you and stomped your feet on the ground. “Everything I have done, I have done for you. I have protected you, killed hundreds for you, lied for you, been raped for you, been defiled and humiliated...for you.” 

“Then why do you stay? I know the Gods do not wish this upon you. So please, do not give me your poor excuse of it being the Gods doing, that I am your fate, your duty, your responsibility. Because I know, there is more to it.” His fists came to your collar and clenched. You could feel your emotions overtake your usual calm and strategic mind, overthrowing all sense out the window and before you know it, you punched him across the face. Striking him down onto the ground with a thud, he growled. 

“Because I love you. I love you so much that it hurts.” Tears were now violently falling from your cheeks as you slumped on the floor, glaring at Ivar - the cripple who stole your heart, silently, slowly but completely. He didn’t say a word, his jaw didn’t shut and his eyes didn’t waver. “All my life, I never knew what family was. I didn’t know what it was like to love. And then I find you and of course, I thought these emotions were the feelings the Gods had put on me, what it was like to actually find their duty and responsibility. But then, I fell in love with you. It was no longer the Gods who kept me by your side, it was my heart.”

The fight still pained you to this day. It was one of your greatest regrets but one of your most needed encounters in your life. You had been sitting in silence for a while now, just staring out to nothing until Bjorn Ironside finally spoke. His patience ran thin and wanted answers. There were visible tears falling from your eyes, stinging your prior wounds across your cheeks but not enough for you to care. 

“Right.” You coughed, clearing your throat in hopes of ridding the obvious hurtful emotions that were on show for everyone to see. “I told him that I...that I loved him and for a long time he didn’t say anything and I left. However, just as I predicted, he sent his men to kill me and proclaimed that I was a murderer, a traitor and a spy working for your armies.” You let out a dry laugh, the betrayal and the disappointment hurting you. It was silly to think that you would expect Ivar to let you leave. It was naive to think that he’d feel the same, that he loved you enough to let you go.  It was stupid enough for you to hope, that the great Ivar the Boneless, would put his paranoia for power and victory to actually let you escape. He was too caught up in the idea that you’d betray him. And in his mind, you wanting to leave was already a betrayal. So, therefore, you did betray him. “And now, here I am, alive to live another day.” 

[chilling-seavey]

Anything But Mine - Lucy’s Birth Story

A/N June 24th is an important day in the ABM universe...I figured we can take a little read to find out why! Hope you enjoy 🧡 + be forewarned about plenty of fluff included here 🥺 

A/N2 Also this pic of Daniel omg you can’t tell me it doesn’t look like him seeing his new baby for the first time 🥺 all that emotion in his expression

T/W Idk if this counts as a trigger warning but there are detailed descriptions of labour and delivery!

W/C 8.6k words

Daniel kept himself busy after the wedding to support their little family, spending long days in the studio with his university friend, Jack. Money was tight but comfortable and with extra funds that Callum managed to get from his and Florence’s parents back in LA, they had purchased a three-bedroom apartment as soon as possible. Clementine and Penelope loved their home, playing on the balcony as much as they could in summer as they said the 56th floor made them feel like the Queens of the city. Once the end of November came around, they were often stuck inside due to the weather starting to drop, playing under the grand piano in the living room.

Florence was cleaning up from dinner when her phone rang. Daniel always called when he was leaving work.

“I can’t wait to come home.” he said right when she answered. She could hear him getting into his car in the background.

“Me too. We missed you at dinner.” Florence replied, wiping her hands on the dish cloth that was hanging over her shoulder.

“I haven’t even eaten yet.” Daniel sighed. “I’m so tired.”

“Pick up something to eat on the way home.” Florence suggested, glancing to the two young girls across the room before she added, “and I need you to pick up something from the drug store if you can.”

“Sure. What do you need?”

“A pregnancy test?”

The silence on the other end made her smile softly. She could picture his face exactly; his wide eyes and discrete smile.

He was quiet a moment before speaking, “Yeah…I can definitely grab one. Do you think-”

“We’re not jinxing it, Dani.” Florence chuckled.

“No, of course not.” Daniel smiled widely. “I’m on my way.”

Every evening when the front door opened and Daniel came in from work, the girls dropped what they were doing and ran for him, throwing their tiny arms around him. This night was no different as he bent down to greet his daughters, pressing equal amounts of kisses to their heads. Daniel glanced up at Florence who was stood in the archway, leaning against the wall. He stood up and handed her the small bag from the drugstore with a wink, leaning in to kiss her once.

“Thank you.” She whispered.

“Daddy! Can you play with us?!” Clementine asked loudly, bouncing on her toes.

“I think it’s almost bedtime, Clemmie girl, don’t you think?” Daniel brushed a hand through her messy blonde hair.

“No.” Clementine frowned, crossing her arms over her chest.

“Tomorrow I will. I promise.” Daniel assured her. “We’ll have story time tonight in the big bed, okay?”

The girls shrieked excitedly and ran off down the hallway towards the master bedroom. Daniel took the moment of silence to hug his wife, sharing their quiet ‘I love you’s, before he was called by the girls down the hall.

After two storybooks amongst a mound of pillows and the duvet, the girls started to drift, wrapped up in his arms. Florence took Clementine to bed and Daniel took Penelope, tucking them into their beds in their own rooms. The two young adults met back in the hallway, standing with a few feet between them.

“I’m like…a few weeks late.” Florence said.

“That’s a good sign.” Daniel replied.

“Not for sure though.” Florence added.

“That’s okay. Do you want me with you?” Daniel asked her quietly.

“Of course.” Florence nodded.

They found themselves in the ensuite, staring at the unopened box of two pregnancy tests on the counter. They stood there a while, Daniel waiting for Florence to make her first move. He glanced at her.

“They won’t tell us anything if you don’t take them.” Daniel chuckled.

Florence took a deep breath and took the box with her to the bathroom. She shut the door and got to work. Daniel sat on the counter waiting for her, finishing the now cold take-out from McDonald’s he picked up on the way home. She came back out and washed her hands, leaving the two tests in the opened box between them.

“I don’t know why I’m nervous.” Florence whispered, leaning her hands on the counter.

“I thought you wanted another one?” Daniel frowned, pulling lightly at her arm so she moved to stand between his legs.

“I do. So bad. Maybe I’m nervous that it will be negative.” Florence sighed.

“So we try again.” Daniel shrugged, taking her hands in his. “And again and again and again-“

Florence rolled her eyes at him through a smile, letting him press a kiss to her lips. They fell into silence as they waited, hands together.

“I’ve never been with someone when I do this.” Florence admitted. “It’s kind of nice.”

“Isn’t it?” Daniel smiled.

“Thank you for being here.”

“You’re my wife now, remember? I gotta be here with you for everything.” Daniel said, taking her face in his hands. “No going through things by yourself anymore.”

Florence took the front of his shirt in her hands and pulled him in for a lingering kiss.

“Can we look, yet?” Daniel finally mumbled against her mouth. “I’m dying here.”

“Yeah.” Florence said, picking up the box again. She dumped both tests into her hand, hiding the screen face down. She passed one to Daniel and kept one for herself.

They both stared down at the hidden tests in their hand before looking back up to each other.

“I’m nervous!” Florence shrieked quietly, bouncing on her toes a little.

“Count to 3, okay?” Daniel smiled, reaching out his one free hand to hold hers. “1…2…3…”

They both turned the screens face up in their palms, each showing a clear pair of solid pink lines.

“Dani…” Florence breathed, squeezing his hand.

“2 lines is good, right?!” he asked quickly, looking up at her.

“So good.” Florence nodded, tears welling in her eyes.

“Oh my gosh.” Daniel whispered, hoping off the counter to wrap her in a tight hug. “We’re gonna have a baby. Together this time.”

Florence laughed lightly against his shoulder, staring at the positive pregnancy test in her hand, “I love you.”

“I love you so much.” Daniel smiled.

“But seriously, Dani.” Florence pulled back from their hug, “I’m worried. Penelope came so early. The doctors said it was from the stress I was constantly in and I don’t want that to happen again. We lucked out with her health but-“

“There’s no reason to be stressed this time.” Daniel assured her, brushing her hair back form her face, “I’m going to be with you through everything. Every doctor’s appointment and everything.”

“Don’t promise that.” Florence chuckled. “You have a job.”

“The last two times you had to do so much on your own. I want to be here for everything. We’re going to do it right this time. I promise.”

~~

Christmas was only a few weeks away and keeping such a big secret was agonizing. They had planned the announcement for Christmas and swore themselves to secrecy. Daniel had to somehow see Jack almost every day at the studio and not say anything. Their first obstacle was telling their two girls who they knew had to be told first. Christmas Eve brought the perfect opportunity, the small family back in Vancouver with Daniel’s family for their annual Christmas visit. Still in their dresses and stockings from church, Clementine and Penelope were each handed a wrapped box as the family of four sat on the rug in front of the lit Christmas tree and warm fireplace, Daniel’s parents and siblings sitting around the couches. It was always a tradition to open one gift on Christmas Eve so this wasn’t unusual to the girls.

Clementine, who was closing in on 5 years old quickly, tore open the paper excitedly, her 18-month younger sister desperately trying to keep up. Inside the boxes were a set of pyjamas for each of them. The candy cane patterned sleeves and trim on the shirt matched the pants, Florence and Daniel both having their own matching pair in their room. The girls’ had writing on their shirts, however, the I’s of the red lettering were peppermint wheels reading ‘Big Sister’.

Clementine could read hers easily, the fact easily understood since she had been a big sister for 4 years. Penelope simply stared at hers, the 4-year-old not quite grasping full words yet.

“What does it say, Penny?” Florence asked.

“I dunno.” Penelope giggled shyly.

“Hers says ‘Big Sister’ too.” Clementine said. “That’s wrong. She’s the little sister.”

“She won’t be for long.” Daniel said through a smile.

“Oh my gosh!” Anna shrieked, clapping her hands over her mouth. “You’re pregnant?!”

Florence laughed and nodded lightly.

“No, you’re not!” Keri gaped.

“Yes, we are.” Florence giggled as Daniel pressed a kiss to her cheek, tucking his arm around her shoulders to pull her close.

The adults got up to share eager hugs and congratulations, a few happy tears being shed in the process. The young girls stared blankly at them, not quite grasping what was happening.

Christian bent down between the girls, “You guys are going to have a little brother or sister.”

“A baby?” Clementine looked up at her parents.

“Yeah, Clemmy girl, a brand-new baby!” Daniel smiled, sitting back on the rug again.

“Are you happy?” Florence asked as she joined him.

“Yeah.” Clementine shrieked suddenly, tossing the tissue paper in the air and nearly hitting Christian in the face.

“What about you, bug?” Daniel asked their soft-spoken second daughter. “You want a brother or sister?”

Penelope’s little smile brightened at his gentle acknowledgment, her rosy cheeks hiding behind her new pyjamas as everyone looked at her. She nodded gently, her soft giggle muffled by the clean fabric.

“Mommy’s having a baby, Nell!” Clementine yelled, tackling her younger sister onto the carpet.

“Clem, you’re more excited than all of us combined.” Florence laughed, grabbing the eldest by her waist and pulled her onto her lap.

“Do you want to see a picture of the baby?” Daniel asked the room.

“Yes please!” Penelope kicked her legs in the air, her red dress flying up by her head.

Daniel pulled her towards him by her ankles before taking her hands so she was on her feet. She draped her arm around his shoulder and the rest of the family gathered around behind them as he unlocked his phone to open the email from the doctor’s office. The black and white image of the little blob filled his screen.

“Wow.” Clementine breathed, leaning over to get a better look as the room awe’d gently. Penelope pulled the hem of her dress up to bite at, her wide blue eyes scanning the still image awestruck.

“Who do you think it looks like?” Daniel asked, gently pulling the dress out of her mouth.

“Me!” Clementine shouted.

“You?!” Florence laughed.

“Where is the baby?” Penelope whispered, leaning her head on Daniel’s.

“In my tummy.” Florence said.

“Why?”

“Because that’s just where babies grow.” Florence shrugged.

“How did it get there?” Penelope yawned.

“Yeah! How did it get there?” Clementine added, looking between her parents.

“Oh, Lord.” Christian laughed loudly, stepping back and headed for the kitchen, “I’m going to get a drink.”

Daniel chuckled nervously, telling his daughters, “A little magic from the wedding.”

“Do I get some too?” Clementine asked.

“Not until you get married which isn’t for years and years from now.” Daniel said.

“Many, many years.” Keri jumped in, scooping up her granddaughter. “Even more than your Mommy and Daddy waited.”

Daniel glared playfully at her, making the adults laugh.

“Why don’t we get into our pj’s and then have story time by the fire before we have to get into bed?” Florence suggested.

And that’s what they did, the four of them changing into their matching pyjamas for their last Christmas as a family of four, cuddled up on the couch with a picture book, their extended family joining with mugs of tea around the living room too. Daniel had his arm around his little family, lazily twisting a strand of Florence’s hair around his finger as she read out loud.

It was the one night a year the girls didn’t want a second book, eager to get to bed so Santa could come. The girls were tucked into bed and things in the living room were taken care of by the adults before they were off to bed themselves, cuddled up together as light snow filled the city below.

~~

The new year came with fresh starts and busy days. Penelope needed to move into Clementine’s room since they needed room for the nursey. Florence wanted to get started early, often waking up early to work, Daniel finding her pushing an entire dresser down the hallway at 6am. He constantly had to pull her back to bed, trying to convince her to let him take care of the big things.

The girls loved to talk to the baby, pressing their sticky hands to her small belly anytime they could. They shared many stories too and Clementine often came home from Junior Kindergarten with paintings for the baby which would be put safely in a book.

Each doctor’s appointment was finished with glowing reviews, everything progressing smoothly and, as promised, Daniel was there for each and every one. It was at their 20-week ultrasound that Florence was handed the sealed envelope that contained only a folded piece of paper. For both her pregnancies, she waited until the birth to know the gender since she didn’t feel the need. This time, Daniel insisted on a gender reveal party, giving Michael and Luke Clifford the privilege of finding out first and planning the whole thing.

It was during March Break when spring was starting to poke through the melting snow and Clementine would have the whole week out of school. All their family and friends came, even Daniel’s family flew in for the week, everyone dressed in either blue or pink for which ever gender they guessed.

That morning, Daniel came into the ensuite bathroom in all white, buttoning up the final button on his collared shirt.

“Where’s your colour?” Florence asked from her spot at her dressing table, fastening her earring.

“I don’t want to wear a colour because I don’t want to make the baby feel bad if they’re not what I guessed.” Daniel shrugged, leaning down next to her. “I’m going to be happy either way.”

Florence glanced at her sky-blue dress in the mirror and pursed her lips.

“You look beautiful.” Daniel whispered, pressing a kiss to her cheek, his hand falling to her swollen belly.

“Maybe I should wear white too.” Florence said.

“You don’t have to.” Daniel chuckled, moving to the sink to brush his teeth.

“I was thinking boy because I haven’t had any morning sickness this time but my other two I did.” Florence said quietly, eyeing her dress before looking back to him.

“So stay in blue.” Daniel answered through his toothbrush.

“No…I’m going white too. We have to match.” Florence tisked, getting up from her chair to find a white dress in her closet.

Her sudden stop made Daniel frown, “What’s wrong?”

“I think I felt a kick.” Florence breathed, setting a hand on her stomach. Daniel got rid of his toothbrush and joined her, setting his hand next to hers. Sure enough, a tiny flutter moved under their palms.

“We have a tiny dancer on our hands.” Daniel smiled softly.

Florence let her right-hand fall to the back of his head, running her fingers through his hair, staring at his wide eyes and parted lips, his expression full of awe.

“I love you.” Florence whispered.

“I love you too.” Daniel grinned, leaning in to kiss her.

“Are you almost ready in there? We need to get going soon!” Callum called from the hallway.

Florence quickly switched into a white dress and heels and they joined their little family in the living room. The girls were both wearing light blue overalls with pink undershirts since they both kept switching between ‘boy’ and ‘girl’ every five minutes. Callum and Aidan both went with blue.

“You’re cheating!” Clementine shouted, pointing at her parents’ white outfits.

“We can’t break the rules if we made them.” Daniel said with a wink.

Michael and Luke had everything set up in the ballroom space of the apartment building, the same place Clementine had her first birthday. Everyone was already there, helping themselves to snacks and drinks. It wasn’t long before Daniel and Florence were directed to the front of the room, Clementine and Penelope joining them beside a large black balloon held by Michael. He handed it to the two little girls, giving them the instruction to hold tightly to the string so it wouldn’t float away.

When the room was quiet, Luke passed over a safety pin to Daniel and one to Florence. On a count to three, they were to pop the balloon and the confetti inside would reveal the gender.

“I’m nervous again!” Florence giggled.

“It’s a boy and I’ll bet money on that!” Callum called from the front of their small group.

“Willing to make that a bet? $50. It’s a girl.” Christian held out his hand.

“Deal. I know my sister.” Callum shook on it. “It’s a boy.”

“Ready?” Daniel smiled to his wife.

“So ready.” Florence leaned over to kiss him, the two girls between them laughing excitedly.

“3…!” Luke started. “2…1…!”

The pop of the balloon filled the quiet room and pink confetti rain down on the family of four. The little girls shrieked excitedly, jumping up and down in their own world. Beside them, Florence was more than shocked, falling into Daniel open arms.

Despite the shouting and laughing that took over the room, it felt like it was just the two of them. She could feel a tear fall onto her shoulder and Daniel held her tighter.

“I love you so much.” He whispered, his voice wavering.

“I love you.” Florence smiled, taking his face in her hands and pressed her lips to his.

“I believe you owe me money, Mr. DiCaprio!” Christian shouted over the excitement in the room.

~~

The remainder of the second and well into the third trimester was spent with Daniel waiting on her hand and foot. Florence didn’t like it at first, feeling badly that he was doing it all, but Daniel insisted, doing everything he could to keep her relaxed with her feet up. He took Clementine to school every morning and picked her up on his lunch break, he took charge of bath time for the girls and cleaned the apartment, and even (tried his best) to make dinner every night.

Florence really missed him throughout her last pregnancy as he was such a comfort through the end of her first, being the only thing to help her sleep in those later months. She basked in it this time, though, refusing to let him get out of bed until he was almost late for work. Not that he complained, he would have given anything to stay like that all day.

Even as summer came around and the apartment was always sweltering, Daniel had his arms around her like he would never let go. It was a vision of love and protection Florence never knew she really needed.

And one June morning, no earlier than sunrise, Florence awoke suddenly. Daniel’s arm was draped lazily over her waist with his bare chest pressed to her back, soft breaths let out against her neck. Sweat was pooling at her hairline and she gently slid his arm off of her and he shifted sleepily onto his back. Florence sat up, pushing the heavy duvet off of her to try and get some cool air. It wasn’t unusual that she was extra warm during her final few weeks as growing a full-term human wasn’t an easy task, so she merely took a second to catch her breath.

A small sharp pain made her flinch, pressing a hand underneath her swollen stomach. It was only when she started to make a move to get out of bed that she noticed the wet sheets. Her discovery was punctuated with a warm cramping spreading over her hips.

Florence looked to her right where Daniel laid, his brown hair sticking up in all directions and lips set in a small pout as he slept soundly. She gave him a small nudge, “Dani.”

He shifted tiredly to face the other way, pulling the blankets higher over him.

“Sweetheart.” Florence pulled them back before shaking his arm. “Daniel.”

He rolled over to face her, blinking open his tired eyes to try and focus on her, “You okay?” he asked groggily, reaching a hand to her arm.

“My water broke.” Florence whispered.

Daniel’s still half-asleep face took a second to register what she said before his mouth was falling open. He looked down to her lap that was still covered by the duvet.

“Ok. That’s okay.” Daniel jumped out of bed, almost tripping over his own feet as he scrambled to her bedside in only his underwear, tugging on a pair of pyjama pants in the process. “Are you hurting?”

“A little.” Florence frowned. “She’s 3 weeks early, Dani. We did everything right I don’t know why-“

“Hey.” Daniel took her face in his hands. “It’s okay. Remember the doctor said 37 weeks is fine. That we should expect early because of last time. 37 is good.”

Florence nodded.

“I’ll call the midwife?” Daniel offered.

“We need these sheets changed first.” Florence frowned.

“Of course. Do you want me to take you to the living room?”

“I can go if you take care of this?”

“Okay.” Daniel tilted her chin up to press a kiss to her lips.

“I’m sorry.” Florence mumbled as he helped her to her feet.

“Nothing you need to apologize for, darling.” Daniel smiled, “You’re having our baby today.”

Once Florence made it to the living room, she sat herself down on the couch and called the midwife. It was barely 6:45 in the morning and by Florence’s reflection of her state, the midwife said she would come by for 8, telling her to time and note any contractions or important details.

As soon as they hung up, a sharp pain shot through her side and Florence gasped, clutching onto the back of the couch. Of course, it was just when the girls woke up, rushing out of their shared room and down the hall to the master bedroom like every morning. But they found it empty, bed striped and lights on...but empty.

Clementine and Penelope stopped in their tracks, smiles fading with confusion.

“Good morning, my girls.” Daniel greeted them sweetly as he walked back into the master bedroom from starting the laundry.

Smiles back on their faces, the two girls rushed him with hugs until he scooped them both up in his arms.

“Where’s Mummy?” Penelope asked quietly, her head resting on Daniel’s bare shoulder.

“In the living room. Let’s go say good morning.” he carried his two girls across the apartment. Florence was still on the couch and he set the girls down so they could greet her. The last morning of just the four of them.

Florence was forcing a smile through her steady pain, welcoming her daughters’ innocent smiles and excited hugs and kisses.

“Uncle Callum is going to spend the day with you, does that sound nice?” Florence asked as Penelope curled up on her lap. Clementine skipped off after Daniel to help him prepare breakfast a few feet away in the kitchen, shouting her agreement to that statement with excitement.

“What about you?” Penelope whined gently.

“Dad and I have to get ready to meet your baby sister. We think she’s going to be here soon.” Florence explained.

“Today?!” Clementine shrieked from her spot on the kitchen counter.

“Maybe.” Daniel smiled, petting her hair back from her face as she dropped two frozen waffles in the toaster.

“I want to meet baby sister.” Penelope whispered.

“Me too.” Florence smiled, pressing a kiss to her head.

When breakfast was ready, Daniel called the two girls to the kitchen table, setting two plates in front of them with glasses of apple juice. Florence stayed on the couch, another small contraction washing over her. She held tightly to the couch cushion to avoid making a scene in front of the girls, eyeing the clock on the wall that read 7:23.

Daniel finished cutting up the girls’ waffles before he joined Florence in the living room. He bent down in front of her and set his hands on her stomach.

“How are you holding up, sweetheart?” he whispered, glancing up at her with worry in his light eyes.

“Alright so far.” Florence breathed, pushing a hand through his hair.

“Do you want breakfast?”

“No. I’m okay. You eat.” Florence smiled.

“I’m too excited to eat.” Daniel admitted quietly, leaning up to kiss her as he stood up again. “Callum should be here any moment now.”

“Okay.” Florence sighed, taking his hands in hers.

He leaned down to kiss her once more before heading back to the girls.

“Daddy!” Clementine shrieked through a mouthful of waffle, “We can see your boobies while we eat!”

“Then don’t look.” Daniel teased, pressing his finger in her side to make her squeal with laughter.

“Yucky!” Penelope added, sliding off her chair and ran off towards the kitchen with her plate before he could grab her. Sure enough, he scooped her right off the floor, blowing a raspberry against her shoulder. Penelope squirmed in his arms, trying to push his head away from her through her laughter.

The knock at the door had Clementine running for the foyer, Penelope wiggling enough to have Daniel put her down to join her sister.

“You two get your bags and kiss Mommy goodbye.” Daniel instructed, steering them towards their room.

He opened the door for Callum and Aidan, gesturing them inside with a tired welcome.

“Gosh, Dan, pull up your pants. Do you always walk around like this?” Aidan tisked, eyeing his friend’s bare torso and Calvin’s band that was peeking out from under his plaid pyjama pants.

“No wonder my sister got knocked up again.” Callum teased.

“Oh, Callum George, stop it!” Florence called from the living room. The young men joined her, Callum greeting her with a kiss to her head.

“Uncle Cal!” Clementine called, running over to him and threw her arms around his leg, her tiny suitcase discarded in the middle of the room. Penelope stuck with Daniel, curling one arm around his leg shyly.

“Good morning, Clem.” Callum smiled, picking up his niece and sat her on his hip.

“Mommy’s having baby sister today!” Clementine said proudly.

“I know! That’s why you’re going to have a sleepover with us!” Callum explained.

“You excited, Nell?” Aidan asked the youngest, crouching down to her level.

“Yes.” she smiled shyly, her dark messy hair falling over her eyes.

“Shall we head out then?” Callum said. “Center Island won’t wait for us!”

“Center Island?!” Clementine shrieked, her mouth falling open excitedly, looking between him and her mother.

“Yeah! So lets say goodbye and get going!” Callum bent down so she could kiss her mother goodbye.

“Behave yourself, you.” Florence chuckled, kissing her daughter’s head.

“Come here, Penny.” Florence said to her youngest who slunk away from Daniel to climb up on the couch to hug her.

“Have fun with Cal and Aidan, okay?”

Penelope nodded, pressing a kiss to her cheek.

“Call if you need anything or if anything happens.” Aidan said to Florence, bending down to hug her.

“I will.” Florence agreed.

They headed towards the door, Aidan taking the small pink suitcases in hand.

“Come on, bug.” Daniel said to Penelope, holding out his hand to lead her to the foyer.

“I want to stay with Mommy.” Penelope frowned.

“I’ll take good care of her for you, I promise.” Daniel said sweetly, “You get to go have fun with you sister while we do all the work. When you get back to Callum’s tonight hopefully you can see pictures of baby sister.”

“I want to see her now.” Penelope whimpered, setting her little hands on the baby bump.

“Me too, bug.” Daniel pressed a kiss to her head. “Soon though.”

“Callum and Aidan are going to make sure you have so much fun today.” Florence promised, petting back her daughter’s hair. “Maybe even buy you an ice cream.”

Penelope tried to hide her cheeky smile behind her hair.

“Come on, Nell!” Clementine shouted from the foyer.

“Kisses.” Daniel requested softly, puckering out his lips. His youngest giggled and kissed him once and offered one to Florence before sliding off the couch. She ran after her sister to get her shoes on.

With the girls out of the house, the moment the door closed, Florence let out a pained groan she had been holding in since she woke up.

“What can I get you?” Daniel asked softly, returning back to his place in front of her, running his fingers through her hair.

“Nothing.” Florence breathed, pushing herself up from the couch ungracefully. He helped her with a hand around her waist. “I’m just going to walk a bit before the midwife gets here.”

With her pacing the hallway, Daniel tidied up the master bedroom a little bit, singing quietly as he worked. His soft voice always calmed her and she let her eyes close as she took one slow step at a time down the hallway.

When the midwife arrived, she helped Daniel get the bed re-made and Florence to lay down again. She checked her out a little.

“Looks like you’re already 5cm. Seems like you’ve been in labour for a few hours now. I’m surprised it didn’t wake you.” she chuckled.

“Gosh...it hasn’t been that bad.” Florence said.

“That’s good then. Being able to get as much rest as you can is important. Contractions are steady?”

“Every 5 minutes.” Florence answered. “Short though.”

“That’s okay. Let’s see if you can sleep anymore.”

“I don’t think I can.” Florence admitted.

“Too excited?”

“Just a little.” Florence smiled.

Daniel came out of the walk-in closet in jeans and a white t-shirt with his hair brushed and face shaved. “How are we looking?” he asked.

“Halfway there.” The midwife said.

“Oh, that’s so good!” Daniel smiled.

Florence shifted in her place, whimpering slightly as another contraction came upon her. Daniel climbed next to her and took her hand in his. She leaned on his shoulder with her eyes shut tight, clinging onto his hand.

“They’re getting worse?” The midwife asked.

Florence nodded.

Daniel let his free hand press softly against her cheek and kissed her hair, resting his head on hers. He rubbed his thumb in soft circles over hers.

Florence wanted the calmest and most relaxing birth possible, opting for a home birth for optimal comfort over the unpleasant hospital. The midwife was familiar with home births and throughout the preparation had given good suggestions. Daniel purchased an entire store worth of unscented candles.

Labour was slow but definitely calm, Florence finally getting in the bathtub to try and lessen the growing pain. The bathroom was dimmed to candlelight as she rested with her eyes closed in the warm bath, Daniel sat on the floor against the counter with his guitar on his lap, playing away slowly. His soft voice filled the silent apartment, keeping his eyes on his labouring wife across from him. Her blonde hair was damp at the ends where the water reached, her fingers tightening their grip on the edge of the bathtub, the water sloshing slightly as she flinched in pain.

Daniel hated seeing her like that, small tears welling in his eyes as he kept his voice steady, plucking gently at the guitar strings.

“Dani.” Florence whispered into the air.

He was at her side in an instant, brushing her hair back from her face, his other hand resting over hers, “I’m here, sweetheart.”

Florence licked her lips slowly, her eyes still shut, “Hurts so bad.”

“I know, baby.” Daniel kissed her head. “You’re doing so well. I’m so proud of you.”

“Can I have some water?”

“Of course.” Daniel reached behind her to the half empty glass, switching hands to rest it against her lips. She took it from him, a shaking hand holding the glass as she sipped. She handed it back to him and he set it down before shifting so he was sitting on the tile floor, kissing her hand.

She fluttered her eyes open, smiling weakly at him, holding her hand against his cheek.

“I love you.” Florence sighed.

“I love you so much.” Daniel leaned in to press a kiss to her pouted lips.

“Can you help me out? I’m kind of chilly now.”

“Of course.” Daniel got up and helped her carefully stand up in the tub, taking her hands to steady her as she stepped onto the bathmat. He draped a towel around her and dried her off, helping her out of her wet bathing suit.

“Sorry, I just-“ Florence leaned forward, tightening her grip on his shoulders and let out a trembling groan.

“Good girl.” Daniel whispered, rubbing his hands over her back. “Breathe through it.”

She let out a steady exhale followed by a soft inhale. When the contraction passed, she stood back up, offering him a pout.

“Let’s get you dressed.” Daniel chuckled. He reached behind him to the counter, grabbing her a clean nursing bra, getting her in it gently. He left the towel draped around her waist, one arm taking hers and the other grabbing his guitar, helping her back to bed. The midwife gave her a second look over, timing the contractions at 2 minutes apart, lasting almost 30 seconds.

“We are moving things right along!” she said. “We’re between 7-8cm now. Doing just fine.”

“I could feel her moving down.” Florence said tiredly, offering a smile to the room.

“That’s good.” the midwife said, pressing her hands to her belly to check the baby’s position. “She’s a well behaved little one too.”

“What time is it, Dani?” Florence asked.

“Almost noon, sweetheart.” he replied, pulling a black tank-top from his dresser drawer as his t-shirt was damp from the bath water.

“Oh gosh.” Florence sighed, resting her head back against the pillow as he changed quickly before sitting on the edge of the bed next to her.

“You’re doing great work, Florence.” the midwife said with an honest smile. “How are you feeling?”

“A little nauseous.” Florence admitted.

“That’s from the pain. Have some water and take nice deep breaths. We can try moving to a better position.”

The midwife helped her kneel on the floor, arms holding the side of the bed. Florence, already tired out, leaned her head against her arms on the mattress, groaning lightly with each steady breath.

Daniel sat behind her, rubbing slow circles over her lower back.

“We have a natural on our hands.” the midwife smiled at him.

“I know.” Florence chuckled breathlessly.

Daniel blushed at the form of flattery, massaging her back and her hips strongly, peppering little kisses over her shoulder.

“Ow-“ Florence scrunched her eyes closed as another contraction hit.

“You’re doing so well.” Daniel praised, his warm hands easing her pain the best he could.

“Fuck...” Florence gripped the bedsheets in her fist.

“Bad one?” Daniel asked. She nodded. “You’re so strong, baby. So amazing.”

She gasped out of her contraction, taking a second to catch her breath before speaking, “Why did we do this again?”

“We’re doing it right this time, remember?” Daniel reminded her gently, keeping his hands rubbing circles over her back. “Bringing another little girl into our life the right way. Together. Because you’re the love of my life...the strongest woman I know...the one and only person I trust to carry my child. Our third baby. Our missing piece.”

“Fuck, Daniel. You’re making me cry.” Florence chuckled through her forming tears.

“Gotta make up all the missed time somehow.” Daniel said, kissing her shoulder.

“Stop with your missed time.” Florence whispered tiredly. “We did everything in perfect time. Anything different and we wouldn’t be here right now.”

“You’re right.” Daniel sighed, draping his arms around her waist to rest on her belly. He leaned his head against her shoulder. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” Florence chuckled, resting one hand over his.

Another contraction came quickly, having her resort back to her double fisted grip on the bedsheets, groaning into the mattress. Daniel kept his arms around her, swaying her hips gently as he hummed a soft tune against her skin. She had only a moment to breathe again when the contraction died down, her head resting on her arms in her small squat, breathing deeply. She let out a sob into her arms as another contraction washed over her, her body clenching painfully.

“They’re much closer now.” Daniel said aloud, putting soft pressure against her lower back and hips. He could feel the heat radiating off of her and he waved his hand by her face to try and cool her down. He didn’t see the midwife leave the room but she was soon handing him a cool, damp face cloth and he thanked her quietly before running it softly over Florence’s shoulders and neck.

“Deep breaths.” The midwife instructed, getting on the ground with them to check out the process of the baby. “Almost there.”

“Almost there.” Daniel repeated.  

“I want to lay down. My legs hurt.” Florence whispered, burying her face in the crook of her arm.

“Whatever is best for you, dear.” The midwife agreed, helping Daniel get her to her feet and back onto the bed. She checked the baby’s heartrate and position again, making a few notes before taking a step back to let Florence breathe. Daniel was curled up next to her, pressing the cool cloth to her forehead and cheeks, following the breathing techniques with her. Florence’s hand was holding the front of his shirt, her eyes scrunched closed and her grip tightening as she contracted again, letting out a small cry of pain.

“Do you want me to sing to you?” Daniel asked quietly.

Florence nodded quickly, biting down on her bottom lip.

He ran his thumb over her lip to make her release it, offering his free hand for her to cling onto instead as he chose a gentle song and sang quietly into the dimly lit room. His voice seemed to echo through the empty apartment, running his thumb over hers, keeping his damp eyes focussed on her face. The curtains were drawn, closing off the bright afternoon sun and leaving the room to candlelight and the single table lamp set up on the dresser for the midwife to work. The soothing scent of lavender wafted from the candle on the right-side night table, just enough to bring a sense of serenity and calmness to the room.

With each contraction, Florence kept her breathing steady, burying her face against Daniel’s chest with her hand gripping his shirt, her other held securely in his. He kept the cool cloth blotting her forehead and neck, the icy dampness relaxing her more, his soothing voice keeping her focussed on something other than the radiating pain. Every minute exactly, she was whimpering against his chest, pulling him close. Daniel’s voice quivered seeing her in such a state but he forced himself to stay strong for her. He had never been a part of the labour process and it absolutely broke his heart to see her like that.

One strong contraction in particular had her letting out a small shriek, flinching intensely in his arms, “Daniel.”

Daniel couldn’t hold back the small sob that fell from his pouted lips, wrapping his arms around her securely and pressed kisses to her head. “I’m here, baby. I got you.”

“Go right into that, Florence.” The midwife praised softly, rubbing her hand over her back, “You’re doing so well.”

“I’m so sorry.” Daniel whispered against Florence’s ear, his quiet tears falling onto her bare shoulder.

Florence shook her head as the contraction died out. “Don’t be sorry,” she breathed heavily, shifting to look at him, holding one hand to his cheek, “God, don’t cry, Dani. It’s all going to be worth it.”

“That’s the spirit.” The midwife smiled, settling on her other side. “Now I’m just going to check baby’s heartbeat.”

She pressed the wand of a small machine to Florence’s bare stomach, the staticky rhythm filling the room. Daniel smiled softly as Florence looked up to him.

“I love you.” Florence whispered, puckering out her lips.

“I love you.” Daniel chuckled, meeting her halfway for a single sweet kiss.

He helped her through another contraction. Her eyebrows were furrowed through it, raising Daniel’s concern a little bit.

When it finished, she shifted onto her back to look towards the midwife, “Can you check me again? I think she’s ready to come out.”

The midwife paused as she checked her dilation, “Well, my dear, you are very in tune with your body. You’re at 10cm. Let’s get this baby out.”

“Now?!” Daniel gasped, looking between the two women.

“Whenever she feels the urge to push, yes!” the midwife chuckled, starting to arrange her things.

“Which will probably be in like 30 seconds.” Florence added lightly.

“Where do I sit? What do you want me to do?!” Daniel asked quickly.

“Calm down, Dani.” Florence laughed as the midwife had her sit up a bit more.

“You can sit behind her if you’d like.” The midwife suggested. “If that’s comfortable for mama of course.”

“Yeah, that works.” Florence nodded, letting Daniel slide his leg behind her. He leaned against the pillows and the headboard as she rested back against his chest. The midwife hurried to set down an extra towel under her and got her legs bent open.

“Okay, with the next contraction, you know what to do. Listen to your body.” The midwife instructed quietly.

Florence took a soft breath, letting Daniel set his hands in hers, linking their fingers together. Sure enough, at the next contraction, she felt the natural urge to push, a feeling that was always so surreal to her. She took a trembling breath before pressing her chin to her chest and pushed. It was nothing she hadn’t done before but it was still a lot, listening to the midwife’s steady count to ten before she could have a second to catch her breath.

“Another count of ten, honey.” The midwife said.

“Oh God.” Florence whimpered, shutting her eyes tightly as she pushed again.

Daniel kept his thumbs rubbing soothing circles over hers, watching her concentration and determination with wide eyes.

“That’s good.” The midwife said. “Catch your breath.”

Florence rested her head back against Daniel’s chest, her breathing shallow. Daniel started another breathing exercise, soon getting her to join.

“You two make a good team.” The midwife smiled up at them.

Florence hummed tiredly in agreement before sitting herself up a little bit more and pushing again.

“Good girl.” Daniel whispered, freeing one hand to pull her hair back from her face before falling to her hip.

“Fuck, Penelope was so much smaller than this.” Florence groaned through another push, her nose scrunched up with the effort she was putting out.

“Just means you’re delivering a healthy, full term baby now.” The midwife said softly. “Keep those pushes coming. You’re doing great.”

Florence took a breath before pushing again, groaning into it with her chin to her chest. She squeezed Daniel’s hand in her own, her right hand on his thigh to hold herself steady. He reached over to grab the paper fan from the nightstand, using his free hand to fan her with it, the cool air making her sigh thankfully.

“Doing so good, sweetheart.” Daniel whispered, peppering kisses along her neck and shoulder.

Florence groaned into the air, her eyes screwed shut, squirming in her place, “Hurts so bad.”

“Keep your legs open, honey. It will make it easier.” The midwife said, trying to keep open the labouring mother’s trembling thighs. Florence hooked her ankles over Daniel’s to ground herself, pulling his arm around her middle as she breathed out of another contraction. The next came fast and she pushed right into it, whimpering loudly.

Daniel could feel her whole body trembling and all he could do was hold her, tucking one hand under her thigh to help keep her legs open, watching over her shoulder as the midwife helped her through it.

“Her head is coming soon. We’re almost at the end!” the midwife announced, letting Florence sit back to breathe after two more counts of ten.

“Dani.” Florence panted, blinking open her tired eyes to him as her head rested lazily against his shoulder.

“You’re absolutely incredible.” Daniel whispered, pressing a kiss to her cheek. “I’m so in love with you.”

“I love you.” Florence mumbled. She breathed out deeply before another contraction washed over her. The midwife instructed her to pant light and she did, resisting the urge to simply push with all her might.

“We’re crowning now.” The midwife told them. “Nice steady push now, honey.”

Florence held her breath and tucked her chin down again, offering her a nice slow push, groaning loudly as she did.

“Ow, ow, ow, ow-” Florence cried, clinging onto Daniel’s hand. Taking a deep breath before pushing again.

“That’s it.” Daniel breathed, rubbing his thumb in soft circles over her thigh. “Good job, baby.”

After one more lengthy count to ten, the head was born. Daniel let out a little gasp at the sight of the wet light hair that was poking out between her legs.

“Strong push now, Florence.” The midwife encouraged. “She’s almost here!”

Florence leaned back against Daniel, taking both hands in her own instead of just one, tightening her legs around his, and pushed as hard as she could. Her head rested on his shoulder, her laboured breaths and whimpers against his neck, hands trembling in his as she brought their final little girl into the world. Daniel kept his eyes between her legs, watching completely uncensored as the baby was delivered into the midwife’s hands. And with Florence’s heavy sigh of relief, Daniel let out a small sob, tears spilling down his cheeks as the baby at the foot of the bed let out her first cry.

“1:56pm. June 24th. A beautiful baby girl.” The midwife announced with a wide smile, wrapping her up in a blanket and placed her on Florence’s chest. She instinctively wrapped her arms around the newborn, her own tears trickling down her cheek.

Daniel was right with her, his cheek almost pressed against hers as he stared down at the new arrival wrapped in white. Her shrill cries were nothing but the most beautiful music to his ears and he cried tears of joy along with her.

“Hi, baby.” Florence whimpered happily. “Oh, Dani, look at her.” Florence turned her head a little to look at her beautiful mess of a husband beside her.

“She’s perfect.” Daniel cried, leaning in to kiss her sweetly. “I’m so proud of you. I love you.”

“I love you.” Florence smiled, moving one hand to wipe the tears from his cheeks.

They stayed there a few quick minutes before it was time to deliver the placenta. It was quick and easy and Florence was honestly too wrapped up in admiring the new little girl in her arms to really notice.

The midwife took the baby to be checked out, weighing her in at 7lbs 11oz and measuring her at 20inches long. She was nothing but perfect; her health was pristine, the delivery went without fault, and soon the baby was quiet and nursing, swaddled in a soft purple blanket in Florence’s arms. Daniel sat beside them, running his fingertips ever so softly over the baby’s thin hair, watching her eat quietly.

“She’s so soft.” he breathed, pressing a gentle kiss to her head.

“I know.” Florence smiled.

“She’s ours.” Daniel sighed happily.

“She is.” Florence whispered.

The midwife came back in after her things were packed up and she was ready to go, “One last thing before I leave, we need to fill out the birth certificate so I can mail it to the government.”

“Of course.” Florence smiled, pulling her blanket that was draped over her shoulders farther over her chest for decency as if the lady who walked in didn’t just deliver her child.

“Does this little girl have a name that you’ve decided on?” she asked kindly, sitting on the end of the bed with her pen and paper.

“Lucy.” Daniel whispered, keeping his eyes on the baby, her tiny hand curling around his index finger. “Lucy Elizabeth Seavey.”

~~

“Aren’t you the prettiest little girl in the whole world.” Daniel cooed gently to the newborn who was laid on the changing pad at the end of the bed. She cried restlessly, tiny legs kicking as he fastened her diaper, her arms curled by her face. He leaned down to press a kiss to her cheek, “Well, out of those younger than 3. I can’t go picking favourites.”

“You’re ridiculous.” Florence chuckled tiredly, tucked into their freshly made bed in a new pair of pyjamas and the uncomfortable post-birth underwear the midwife gave her.

Daniel sent her a small wink before he was tugging off his shirt and gently lifting the baby to his chest. She curled against him, her loud cries softening as her head rested on his shoulder, sucking on her tiny fist. He walked slowly around the room, tossing his shirt in the laundry basket, throwing out the dirty diaper and put away the wipes and things. His steps were cautious, holding the newborn securely with one hand until he could rest at the window, rubbing soft circles over her back as they overlooked the busting city and the setting sun.

Of course, Daniel couldn’t help but sing quietly, offering the quiet room the lyrics to the Beatles song that was the newborn’s namesake. And, like both sisters before her, Lucy was asleep in mere moments by the heavenly voice that Daniel had been blessed with.

He sat himself in bed, making sure to keep the sleeping baby safely against his chest. Florence ran a gentle hand over the thin blonde hair that the newborn donned, before moving her fingertips to Daniel’s cheek, turning him to press a soft kiss to his lips.

“You’re so good with her.” Florence whispered.

“All in the practice.” Daniel smiled, resting his hand out for her to hold. “How are you feeling, sweetheart?”

“Tired and sore. But happy.” Florence smiled softly, giving his hand a little squeeze. “So happy.”

He returned it, leaning in to press a lingering kiss to her lips. He kept his one hand over the baby’s back as she slept against his chest, making sure he stayed perfectly still so she wouldn’t fall, staring down at her with nothing but love in his eyes.

“Look at her.” Daniel breathed. “We made her and now she’s real and I’m holding her and...”

“I know.” Florence giggled quietly, curling into his side a little.

“And she’s ours.”

“All ours.”

“Our littlest princess.”

Lucy stretched her tiny arms up through a sleepy yawn as if she was trying to drape them over his shoulders. She kept her cheek against his chest, breathing slowly with him.

“She looks so much like you.” Florence breathed, running the back of her index finger over the baby’s cheek.

“She looks more like you.” Daniel said. “All this light hair.”

“Her eyes and nose are all yours.” Florence whispered, gently tracing the curve of Lucy’s tiny nose.

When Daniel didn’t answer after a moment, Florence turned her head up to look at him. He was already looking at her, a soft smile on his lips.

“Thank you for our beautiful family.” He mumbled.

Florence pulled him in for a kiss, “Thank you.”

[i-drink-and-i-write-fics]

Dragon Queen

Chapter 4: Brothers

Summary: The boys show just how much you mean to them.

Notes: There will be mentions of attempted murder of the Reader and their unborn child. No one is harmed in this chapter, just a reveal of a thwarted murder plot! Feel free to skip this chapter.

If you wish to skip, here is Chapter 5

Your nap lasted longer than you had planned and the next thing you knew it was the following morning. The emotional pain you experienced yesterday was still there, but now felt more like a lump in your stomach. Who were those people yesterday? The woman’s voice sounded familiar but the man was completely unknown to you. Maybe Loki will have answers. And where was Thor? Did he never come to bed last night?

As you rocked yourself out of bed, a servant came in to help you bathe and change for the day. It was awkward at first for you to live in a home with servants, but everyone had been so helpful and welcoming that you had soon relaxed around the staff.

Well, almost everyone was welcoming.

“My lady, are you alright? You are awful quiet this morning. Did the baby keep you up all night?”

“No, Helena. I was just thinking about yesterday. Tell me, where is Thor? I have not seen him since I fell asleep yesterday afternoon.”

“He is with Loki dealing with traitors to the crown, my lady. He has asked me to dress you and escort you to the throne room after you’ve had breakfast.”

“Thank you.”

After breakfast, Helena bathed you and dressed you in your favorite dress (since becoming pregnant, that is). It was dark blue, cut low in the back for your wings, a perfect spot for your tail, a small v-neck on the front, and a foot long train on the back. The sleeves were also dark blue, lace-style with glitter flowing to the floor but open up to reveal your arms. And the whole dress wrapped snuggly - and comfortably - around your growing belly.

She escorted you down the hall to the throne room and waited at the entrance with you. At the dais, Thor sat on his throne with Loki off to his left. Normally, Thor’s advisor - not  Loki - would have been in the spot of honor but clearly whatever was about to take place involved him as well. Though, you were now curious as to where the advisor was. She would never miss an event this important.

Thor also hadn’t had an officially crowning ceremony so whatever was about to take place was so important that he needed to use the throne room to emphasize his point.

The room was packed with important people of Thor’s court as well as the press of SHIELD and the Avengers. Hell, something big was going to break off.

Thor noticed you at the end of the room. “Ah, my future Queen! Please come join me by my side. Thank you, Helena. You are dismissed for now.”

“As you wish, my King.”

The entire room turned to watch you walked towards Thor and you did your best to keep your head up, your wings folded tightly, and your tail still. You didn’t want to give anyone else a reason to think you were unworthy of Thor. As you walked, you noticed the Avengers were there as well. They all gave you a reassuring look as you moved to stand by Thor, not believing you were able to sit on the other throne yet.

He stood up and took your hand, gently twirling you so you were facing the crowd. “Please sit, my queen. I know you have not been crowned yet, but I want you to be comfortable in your state.”

You raised your eyebrows in concern, but Thor just smiled back at you. Turning to maneuver onto the chair, you noticed it had been remodeled to no longer have armrests and also had a hole at the base of the seat to make it easier for you to sit down.

Once Thor was sure you were comfortable, he turned to face the crowd. You then noticed he was in his Asgardian armor and red cape. He had grown his hair out again and half was intricately braided. He looked every bit the king he was born to be.

“My fellow Asgardians and invited friends, as you know I was made Allfather when my father, Odin passed away. We had plans for my coronation after the birth of my child as well as our wedding, as we wanted to focus on the health of my future queen and heir.”

The room was so quiet, you could swear you could hear the waves crashing on the shoreline. Even if you didn’t have advanced hearing.

“The promise of a child and an heir should be a happy occasion, celebrated for days. The prospect of a new queen should be a moment of hope.” Thor’s body tensed up and you didn’t have to see his face to know it had turned to stone. Hell, you wouldn’t have been surprised if his eyes took that blue glow when he was channeling lightning. “But yesterday, it came to my attention that there were people among my own court who would dare undermine my decision as to who should be Asgard’s new queen! These people also hoped for the death of my future queen and our unborn child. And that will not stand! Loki.”

Loki stepped forward and waved his hands. Two chained dolls appeared in his hands and he walked to place them at the base of the dais, facing you and Thor. He then waved his hands again and the dolls changed into a man and a woman handcuffed.

You gasped as you realized the woman was Thor’s advisor. That’s why the voice sounded so familiar yesterday. But who was the man?

Loki walked back to his spot as Thor stomped forward. No one in the room dared to breathe loudly, let alone speak.

“Asta, you and your brother Eirik were caught by my brother talking about wanting my future wife and child dead and taking her place by my side. An investigation of your quarters turned up rather damning evidence. Brunnhilde?”

You turned to see the Valkyrie stroll over with papers and a bag in her hands. She handed Thor the papers before turning the bag upside down to dump out the contents. Plants you didn’t recognize came tumbling out.

“Your Grace, this is a bag full of hemlock. It was found in Asta’s room along with a timetable of when ____ takes her tea every day.”

Tears flooded your eyes and threatened to spill out as you realized what could have possibly happened to you. Then reality fully set in and you began to shake in anger. No, not just what would have happened to you. What would have happened to your unborn child.

Thor turned to you and took in your emotions before speaking. “____, my love. If you would come stand by my side?”

You didn’t hesitate as you moved to stand by Thor’s side, the tears still threatening to leave your eyes but now a wave of anger hardened your features. Yesterday you were worried about what type of a child you were bringing into the world. Worried they weren’t good enough. But to now know that at anytime someone could have killed you and in effect killed your child, it unleashed a level of protective mama bear you had no idea was inside you. Or, in your case, mama dragon.

“My love, as it was you as well as our child they were trying to harm, I will leave their fates in your hand.”

Heat raced through your body and your throat ached to unleash a stream of fire right then and there, as a warning to all future usurpers what awaited them. Your red eyes narrowed as you focused on the two before you.

“I’m sorry, my love, but you will have to make this decision. If it is left up to me, two piles of ashes will be at our feet in mere moments. They wanted to kill our child and I do not have mercy for people like that.” The last words came out in a growl.

Asta and Eirik’s eyes widen in fear at your words and instantly looked at Thor to see what he would do.

He mulled over your words before speaking. “Brunnhilde, take these traitors to the dungeon. We will find a suitable punishment for them very soon.”

She grabbed both the traitors by the collars of their clothes and dragged them out of the throne room. Thor cleared his throat before addressing the room again.

“Let me make this perfectly clear! I love ____ and she will be my Queen and the mother of my children. In light of this betrayal, the coronation will be moved to next week. The wedding will be in two months, and the Queen’s coronation a week after that. If not being married keeps the people from accepting my child, we will remedy that at once!”

A wedding while six months pregnant. You had been glad when the wedding was to take place after the birth so that you wouldn’t have to waddle down the aisle, but now there would be no avoiding that.

Thor dismissed the crowd before turning to you and Loki. “Loki, please have Brunnhilde meet us in my study. We will need to discuss who to place as the new advisor. As well as discuss the appropriate punishment for the traitors.”

“I am a firm believer you should allow your future Queen to dole out justice.”

“Please, Loki, don’t encourage me. It took all my restraint not to torch them right then and there.”

Thor pulled you close and pressed a kiss to your temple. “Come, my love. We will await the others in my study.”

Chapter 5

[jccham]

❝  my  friend’s  cousin’s  best  friend  used  to  work  as  one  of  his  maids  and  she  said  that  his  step-mom  used  to  pay  him  to  keep  her  affair  with  his  uncle  a  secret  ❞  JORDAN  CHAMBERS  ,  who  resembles  KEITH  POWERS  and  is  the  PRESIDENT  of  BETA  TAU  RHO  ,  is  TWENTY-TWO  years  old  and  responds  to  HE  /  HIM  .  𝘱𝘦𝘯𝘯𝘦𝘥  𝘣𝘺  𝘫𝘶𝘭𝘪𝘦  ;  𝘴𝘩𝘦  /  𝘩𝘦𝘳  .

what  up,  i’m  julie,  hailing  from  the  gmt-5  tz  &  i’ve  been  out  all  day  ,  so  i’ve  been  unfortunately  been  a  little  late  to  the  party  buuuut  i  am  here  now  &  i  am  so  excited  to  share  jordan  with  you  all  !  

BASICS  :   full  name  —  jordan  dominic  chambers  .  preferred  —  jordan  .  nickname  —  jd  .  titles  —  captain  and  power  forward  of  the  mens’  kingshill  basketball  team  &&  .  president  of  beta  tau  rho  .  dob  —  august  first  nineteen  ninety  eight  .  astrological  sign  —  leo  .  hometown  —  new  york  city  ,  new  york  .  current  residence  —  kingshill  ,  new  york  .   MAIN  BACKGROUND  :

the  nineties’  basketball  scene  was  dominated  by  the  six  time  nba  champion  chicago  bulls  and  one  of  the  greatest  men  to  ever  play  the  game,  jay  chambers,  led  the  charge.  jordan’s  father  couldn’t  go  anywhere  in  the  country  without  being  flocked  by  fans,  in  awe  of  the  six  nine  legend  in  the  making  .

unfortunately,  this  came  to  a  halting  stop  when  jay  suffered  a  career  ending  neck  injury  that  would  forever  change  his  life  .  coupled  with  an  unwanted  pregnancy  with  darling  socialite  carolina  blair  ,  within  a  year  ,  jay  went  from  basketball  hotshot  to  stiff  businessman  and  father  .  a  shotgun  wedding  meant  financial  stability  in  working  with  the  blairs’  insurance  company,  which  jay  needed  with  no  job  and  years  of  wasting  millions  on  partying  and  luxuries  with  an  expiry  date  .

neither  parent  really  wanted  jordan  and  it  showed  through  the  revolving  cycle  of  nannies  filling  their  roles  .  even  with  hours  on  hand  to  think  about  it  ,  jordan  would  not  be  able  to  share  one  heartfelt  anecdote  from  his  childhood  involving  either  of  them  .

new  york  city  will  always  be  jordan’s  home  ,  his  birth  place  ,  even  through  his  years  of  european  boarding  schools  and  californian  summer  camps  .

basketball  came  naturally  to  jordan  (  no  surprise  )  and  it  was  one  summer  after  returning  from  boarding  school  ,  where  he  had  learned  the  sport  ,  when  he  learned  who  his  father  was  .  he’d  been  bothering  his  father  all  day  to  come  out  of  his  office  to  show  off  his  new  skills  ,  when  he’d  been  barked  at  for  picking  up  a  basketball  at  all  .  

at  first  ,  the  last  thing  jordan  wanted  was  to  upset  anybody  ,  so  he  stayed  away  from  the  sport  at  first  .  however  ,  as  the  years  went  on  ,  his  resentment  towards  his  parents  and  especially  his  father  grew  ,  and  so  ,  continued  playing  basketball  out  of  spite  .  he  was  damn  good  at  it  .

his  mother  paid  for  his  basketball  camps  and  programs  ,  since  she  was  always  so  willing  to  throw  money  at  jordan  to  make  him  go  away  .  he  will  claim  to  this  day  that  he  found  himself  through  the  sport  ,  as  it  taught  him  the  abundant  rewards  of  diligence  and  how  to  be  a  leader.  basketball  made  a  man  out  of  him  ,  something  his  family  never  did  .  

she  left  jordan’s  father  when  he  was  fourteen  and  that  point  ,  he  didn’t  have  any  shits  left  to  give  .  they  barely  had  a  relationship  ,  which  was  honestly  better  than  the  hostility  that  jordan’s  father  showed  him  ,  but  it  wasn’t  enough  for  any  tears  to  be  shed  when  she  declared  she  didn’t  want  custody  .  meanwhile  ,  his  father  accumulated  enough  status  and  wealth  to  branch  off  from  his  ex  wife’s  company  and  form  his  own  .

this  meant  nothing  to  jordan  ,  though  ,  because  as  long  as  he  kept  getting  his  allowance  and  freedom  ,  there  wasn’t  a  change  to  begin  with  .  he  was  used  to  getting  paid  by  his  parents  for  the  little  things  ,  like  a  new  car  when  he  didn’t  bother  his  mother  for  an  entire  month  or  when  his  father  sent  him  on  a  “vacation”  to  the  maldives  with  his  friends  for  christmas  break  .  even  his  new  step  mom  gifted  him  exclusive  sneakers  when  he  put  in  a  good  word  for  her  to  some  tabloid  that  followed  jay  chambers’  new  marriage  .  however  ,  he  drew  the  line  when  his  parents  asked  him  to  attend  kingshill  .  

jordan  dreamed  of  making  it  as  a  professional  basketball  player  .  not  only  that  ,  but  he  was  en  route  to  it  ,  having  scouts  watch  him  since  the  beginning  of  high  school  .  he’d  played  at  the  national  level  and  won  gold  on  endless  occasions  ,  in  addition  to  mvp  trophies  and  other  accolades.  by  senior  year  ,  all  of  the  top  d1  schools  and  agents  came  knocking  on  his  door  .  

despite  his  parents’  divorce  ,  their  two  companies  continued  to  work  closely  together  and  saw  jordan  as  their  sole  heir  .  therefore  ,  they  needed  him  to  be  groomed  by  the  best  school  that  money  could  offer  and  they  saw  kingshill  as  the  perfect  and  only  match  .  

everyone  wonders  why  jordan  has  turned  his  back  on  the  draft  for  three  years  running  .  he  clearly  loves  the  game  of  basketball  and  is  one  of  the  most  hard  working  people  you’d  ever  meet  ,  a  born  star  on  the  court  .  instead  ,  he’s  a  senior  in  his  business  administration  major  and  despite  the  charming  smile  and  affinity  for  partying  ,  is  miserable  .

jordan  chambers  is  a  little  more  than  intimidating  ,  due  to  his  naturally  abrasive  attitude  ,  his  six  seven  stature  and  rumours  that  have  floated  around  his  name  since  freshman  year.  after  all  ,  it’s  safe  to  say  that  he’s  gone  a  little  bit  more  than  wild  since  first  stepping  foot  onto  campus  .  whether  it’s  lashing  out  at  his  parents  or  his  own  development  of  a  coping  mechanism  ,  beta  tau  rho’s  incredible  partying  legacy  has  lived  on  because  of  jordan  .  work  hard  ,  play  hard  ,  and  you’ve  officially  become  a  beta  tau  rho  brother.

PERSONALITY  :  

all  in  all  ,  jordan  is  a  little  bit  too  much  .  his  ego  is  a  little  too  big  ,  cares  more  than  he  should  ,  his  bad  habits  are  a  little  too  intense  ,  and  he  works  harder  than  anyone  else  .  

as  mentioned  before  ,  he  tends  to  be  intimidating  upon  first  impression  and  usually  rubs  people  the  wrong  way  .  he’s  learned  to  become  stoic  and  cold  over  the  years  when  dealing  with  other  people  of  the  same  wealth  ,  afraid  to  be  used  or  manipulated  by  showing  anything  that  could  be  used  against  him  .  

while  jordan  is  a  man  of  few  words,  he  is  quippy  and  sharp  when  he  does  speak  .  his  charm  is  subtle  and  dry  ,  a  blink-and-you’ll-miss  that  part  of  him  type  thing  .  

unsurprisingly  ,  jordan  keeps  a  small  circle  .  he  loves  beta  tau  rho  because  they  all  understand  the  value  of  hard  work  and  constantly  improving  yourself  ,  which  is  why  he  genuinely  cares  deeply  for  his  fraternity  brothers  and  would  probably  do  anything  for  them  ,  even  if  he  doesn’t  seem  like  the  type  .  he  will  always  help  his  friends  ,  no  questions  asked  ,  and  would  do  anything  in  his  power  to  do  so  .  since  he  has  been  mostly  independent  for  as  long  as  he  can  remember  ,  jordan  cherishes  moments  when  he  can  spend  time  with  people  that  he  cares  about  .

though  not  particularly  passionate  about  school  ,  jordan  is  ambitious  .  he  strives  for  greatness  in  everything  he  does  ,  no  matter  how  small  .  he  will  stop  at  nothing  to  achieve  his  goals  ,  sometimes  even  unknowingly  jeopardizing  his  relationships  in  the  process.  

obviously  ,  he  loves  partying  .  jordan  always  cared  about  his  body  and  health  because  of  basketball  ,  but  since  coming  to  kingshill  and  having  his  vision  of  making  it  in  the  nba  tarnished  ,  he’s  loosened  his  old  ‘  no  binge  drinking  ,  no  drugs  rule  ’  up  a  bit  .  he  may  or  may  not  blackout  every  weekend  .  he  may  or  may  not  smoke  a  little  too  much  weed  .  some  things  simply  cannot  be  helped  . 

WANTED  CONNECTIONS  :

i  have  this  page  up  ,  but  i'm  always  down  to  brainstorm  !  especially  since  my  wc  page  is  hella  under  construction  whoops  but  yes  throw  your  ideas  at  me  omg  like  this  post  and  i'll  come  to  u!