#your husband is so smitten with you that it runs in the blood...forgive me...

[stiltonbasket]

tiny ouyang zingchen is as much of a drama llama as his mom and auntie? He's going around looking for Justice and Causes? He's also as much of a romantic as his dad. It's kind of adorable.

Ouyang Zizhen, age 15: I just met the love of my life. Dad, is eighteen too soon to get married?

SLO: Y-yes?? At least wait until you're twenty-one????

*27 years later*

Ouyang Xingchen, age 18: Dad, I just got kicked out of school for breaking my vows...but I really love Zichen, so can't we just get married? I mean, I am of age. :>

OYZZ, a stressed (but proud) father:

[neonlights92]

RUN: CHAPTER VI

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

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

WARNINGS: Language, some violence and smut

A/N: Final chapter friends!! Hope you enjoy it.  We’ve still got the epilogue to go and then onto Joonie!

When you woke up with a start it was on a cold, stone floor.

Your body felt like it had been run over by a truck.

You could barely see anything - but you could smell burning - and you tasted ash.

Where the fuck were you?

“Hello?”  You tried to move around and realised your hands were held together with what felt like rope, “Is anyone there?” Panic settled in your chest as you realised the situation you were in.  It wasn’t looking hopeful.

Your mind drew back to the car crash - the men who’d pulled you and Namjoon out of the wreck - 

Namjoon.

Your heart felt like it might very well fall out of your ribcage.  Was Namjoon okay?

The last you could remember he’d seemed very much unconscious.  You winced.

Shit.

What the hell was going on?

Before you could try to even begin to answer that question - the door to the room you were in swung open and light flooded your surroundings.  You realised quickly you were in some kind of storage room - and you had been chained to some pipes sticking out of the wall.

“Seems our guest is awake.” Your blood ran cold at the voice.

You’d heard it only once before - but you’d never forget it.

Violetta.

“Y/N was it?”  She took a step towards you and flipped a switch - lighting the room up. 

Your chest tightened at the look on her face.  

Unfiltered anger.

“What are you doing?” Your voice sounded like sandpaper, “What’s going on?”

“Surely you’ve seen enough movies to know what a kidnapping is.”  She smirked - cold and cruel, “Or do I need to talk you through it?”

You coughed then, feeling bile climb up your throat.

“Jungkook will kill you -” “When he finds out.”  She rolled her eyes, coming to crouch in front of you, “Yes.  I’ve heard it all before.” Her eyes flickered across your face.

“Not even beautiful,” She scoffed, “What’s the point?”

You felt something akin to fear shiver down your spine.

“What are you going to do with me?” “Oh.  I’m not going to do anything, darling.  I don’t call the shots here.  I just called in… A tip.”

“Jungkook will kill you.”

She pulled a face then - of mock pity. 

“Oh you poor thing.  You think he cares about you?”  She rose a dark brow, “God.  You really are smitten.” Maybe before - when you were insecure, when you weren’t sure what Jungkook felt for Violetta… You might have let her words move you.  You might have even believed her.

Believed that Jungkook didn’t care about you.  That you were disposable to him - a toy.

But you knew better. 

You’d heard the relief in his voice when you called him.  You remembered the things he had said - how he wanted to protect you and keep you safe.

Namjoon was right.  Jungkook was a dickhead, but he cared about you.

“Anyway.  I can’t tell you what they’re going to do,” She shrugged carelessly, “You weren’t the real target.  Namjoon was.  What a blessing you were with him though.”

Her eyes narrowed and you noticed for the first time how cold they were… Lifeless almost.

“Why would you call in a tip about Namjoon?  What has he ever done to you?” “I just needed to get Jungkook’s attention.  Thought this might work,”  She flipped her hair across her pale shoulders, and stood, “He’ll definitely know I had something to do with it.” Your mind was racing - was Namjoon alright?  You were hit with sickening dread as you considered the possibility that your friend might be hurt… Or worse, dead.

“What have you done with him?” You asked, throat dry, “You know Jungkook will never forgive you if something happens to him.” She shrugged and inspected the bed of her nails, as though you were boring her.

“I don’t much care for what he thinks about me now,” She licked her teeth and shot you a cold glare, “I just wanted to hurt him back in kind.”

And without another word, she stalked away from you - hovering in the doorway for a moment before turning back to give you something like a smile.

“I know you think you love him,” She said to you - voice cutting straight through your core, “But he’ll never love anymore more than himself.” She looked almost like she felt sorry for you.

“I hope you know that.” And then she slammed the door shut, and you were left alone.

It was hours before anyone came back to see you.  First it was a guard with some food and water.  He was stoic and unresponsive as you asked time and time again who he worked for - what they wanted from you.

You had been crying for hours by the time Namjoon was thrown in beside you.  He crumpled on the floor in agony, and you noticed immediately how much he was building.

The man who had pushed him stood snarling in the doorway and you felt your heart freeze in your chest at the condition your friend was in.  You couldn’t even help him - chained to the pipe as you were - and so all you could do was watch helplessly as he writhed in pain.

“Simmer in your wounds for a little while,” The guard grunted, “Let’s see if you feel like talking when the pain sets in.” His eyes flickered to yours and you felt sick from what you saw in them.  Pure hatred.

The door slammed shut and you were alone with Namjoon.

He still hadn’t sat up - he was clutching his stomach in pain - and his head was bleeding.  You couldn’t assess how bad the situation was - and you felt bile rise to your throat at the look on your friend’s face.

He looked like he was dying of pain.

“Namjoon!  Namjoon.  Please it’s me, Y/N.  Can you talk?” “Y/N,” He rasped, eyes cracking open as he stared back at you - your heart turned in your chest at the way he was looking at you, “I can’t feel my fingers.”

Your gaze snapped down to his hands and you realised he hadn’t been clutching his stomach - he’d been shielding his fingers.  They were mangled and broken and this time when the bile rose to your throat you couldn’t stop it.

When you were finished throwing up Namjoon smirked tiredly, “That bad huh?” “Joon…”  You were crying now. 

The situation was dire wasn’t it?  Was there any hope you’d come out of this alive - in one piece?

Namjoon had pushed himself up against the wall, cradling his broken hand, and staring mindlessly at the ceiling.

“It’s Byun Baekhyun’s sister.” Your eyes snapped to Namjoon’s.

“What?” “The person who’s doing all this,” He added voice shaking with pain, “It’s Baekhyun’s sister.  She wants retribution for her brother’s death.  For the demise of EXO.  Seems she was able to string together some EXO loyalists and, of course, Violetta.”

“What does she want then?” You asked, watching as Namjoon placed his broken hand on the floor, “Is she going to kill us?” “She wants information.  To take down Bangtan. I suppose she thinks she’ll be able to break me, eventually.”  He shrugged and cringed at the pain, “I don’t know.” “Are you going to be okay?”  You were so concerned - so scared, “Your hand…” “It’s you I’m worried about,” He replied honestly, and his eyes searched your own carefully, “Whatever they do Y/N… Don’t give up anything.  The moment they think they have what they need from you, your dead, okay?” Your heart thundered against your chest.

No, no, no.  You weren’t a warrior.  You couldn’t do this.

Why was this happening to you? You felt dizzy - the world was spinning - would you faint?  Your eyes struggled to focus.

“Y/N.  Listen to me.”  Namjoon’s voice centred you.  You looked up, “I know you can do this okay.  Trust yourself.  Do this for Jungkook.”

The door swung open and the same guard from earlier glared down at you.

“Boss wants to see you, Princess.”  His voice sounded like nails scratching across a chalkboard.  Your  chest tightened, but you fought against the panic.

You couldn’t let him see you were scared.

You set your face like stone as he untied you, eyes moving to meet with Namjoon’s frantically.  He gave you a small smile - a vote of confidence - and you pushed past the fear.

You could do this.

You could do this.

“So you're Jeon’s wife, huh?”  The guard pushed you out into the hallway and grabbed you by the shoulders, “Does he fuck you like he has half of Seoul?” You supposed this was some kind of psychological torture - intended to further break you down.

Why would you stay loyal to a man who treated you like a mistress? But you knew who you married.  You knew whose bed you shared.

And whether he could admit it to himself or not - you knew Jungkook loved you too.

You said nothing.  You set your  jaw.  You locked your eyes on the door at the very end of the long, winding corridor.

You ignored the brush of his beard against the bare skin of your cheek as you walked.

He reeked of beer.

Of course he did.

“I think he even fucked a few EXO girls if I’m honest,” He sounded drunk - slurring, “Rumour has it he’s got a massive cock.  Care to confirm?” You pressed your lips tighter together.  

“Cat got your tongue lovely?”  He chuckled darkly, “Well.  We’ll see how long that lasts.” He opened a door to your left and pushed you inside, and your eyes moved to meet with the glare of a woman sat behind a metal desk.

“Please.  Sit.”

You didn’t have a choice, obviously.  You were forced into the seat roughly, and you winced when the bone of your elbow snapped as the man handling you handcuffed you to the chair.

“Thank you Taeil,” The woman looked up at the guard and smiled briefly, “That will be all.” He bowed and shot you another smirk, before disappearing.  When the door clicked closed, the woman sighed heavily.

“I’m sure Namjoon has told you who I am.”  Her voice was business-like, “But in case he hasn’t.  My name is Sana.” Her eyes cut through you like glass.  You shifted.

“I don’t want to hurt you.” You pinched the skin of your thigh - forcing yourself not to give in to the anxiety rushing through your veins.  She couldn’t know how you felt.

“You broke his hand,” Your voice was bolder than you thought it would be, “He’s in so much pain.” “I admit.  Taeil can be a brute.”  Her eyes gave nothing away, “But he won’t die from it.” “He might lose his hand.” “A price we pay to live in a world like this,” She shrugged, “I’m sure you’re aware that Kim Taehyung killed my brother.  He’s the only person  I care about hurting, or killing.  If you help me find him, I’ll let you both go.”

Your ears were roaring, “Bangtan is my family.  What makes you think I would ever dishonour them like that?” “Because you must be sick and tired of being treated like shit,” Sana’s face was like stone - you had to admit a small part of you was impressed.  How did she keep it so well hidden?

“What are you talking about?” “Jungkook.  Your husband.  His infidelities.”

Once upon a time those words would have sent you in a tailspin.  Now you forced yourself to stay calm.

“You won’t get me to betray them,” You answered honestly, “You’re wasting your time.”

She considered you for a moment - eyes raking you carefully, slowly, like she was coming to some kind of a decision.  Afterwards, she clasped her hands in front of her and sighed heavily.

“Remember I tried to be kind.”  She told you, as she stood, making her way to the front door and knocking once, “Taeil.”

The portal opened and Taeil was stood grinning drunkenly, “Yes ma’am?” “She’s all yours.”  Her eyes flicked to yours, once and she shrugged, “I don’t think it will take long.” Taeil’s eyes lit up with glee and you felt your stomach drop with a sickening thud. He was carrying a suitcase.  You knew what that meant.

What kind of horrors suitcases like that, held.

 He stepped inside the room and your anxiety rose once again, feeling like it might overwhelm you.

When the two of you were alone, he made his way towards you and you found your heart rising to your throat.  You were panicking from the look in his eyes.

You’d seen that look before.  Like a predator stalking his prey.

Like he was going to eat you up.

“Stay away from me,” You warned, voice cracking, “My husband will kill you -” He slapped you, once, across the face.  Your chair screeched back from the force of the hit and when you turned to look at him you found your eyes couldn’t focus.

He’d disorientated you.

“God.”  He growled, cracking his knuckles, “I can already tell this is gonna be fun.”

You shook your head, feeling tears come to your eyes as he grabbed you by the hair and yanked your hair backwards.

“Open up princess,” He grunted, shoving his fingers into your mouth and prying your lips open, “I’m just going to take this for good luck, okay?” He tapped your incisor and your eyes widened in horror, as he pulled a wrench out of the leather suitcase he’d brought inside with him.

“No, no please,” You begged, feeling your heart thud angrily against your chest, “Please…” But he didn’t pay you any mind as he placed the tooth between the mouth of the wrench, and twisted, popping out your incisor as pain shot through your entire being.  You felt blood fill your mouth, and your eyes flashed with blinding light.

“Oh god…” You were sobbing as he stepped away, inspecting the incisor, “Oh god…” “Pretty.”  He murmured smiling at you, “Wanna see?”

It would be the last thing he ever said.

Suddenly a thunderous bang resonated throughout the entire building you were in, and what sounded like a rain of bullets came showering down.

You could hear shouting outside - and your heart expanded - was that Bangtan?

The door to the room you were in swung open, and before you could blink, a bullet shot through the air and into the back of Taeil’s head.  Within seconds he was dead, slumping over.

You screamed, your chest tightening like a balloon.  God, god, god.  Were you going to be next.  You struggled against your restraints before your eyes met the woman standing in the doorway.

It was Park Jimin’s wife.

Switchblade.

She rushed towards you quickly, her eyes worried as she evaluated your condition.

“Are you okay Y/N?”  She asked quickly, rooting around Taeil’s dead body for the keys to the handcuffs that were keeping you from being able to run, “God.  He’s sick.” “It looks worse than it is,” You told her, spitting out more blood as it trickled down the side of your mouth, “Just get me out of here.”

She finally found the keys, and fiddled around with the lock, eventually freeing you.

“Can you walk on your own?” “Yes.”  You stood quickly, eyes meeting her own, “What about Namjoon?” “Hoseok’s gone to get him,” She grabbed your wrist and pulled you towards the door, “He’s going to fine.  C’mon.  We have got to get out of here.”

The corridor was filled with chaos, and you felt your chest tighten.  Members of Bangtan threw open doors, pulling out their adversaries and throwing them to the ground.

“Ignore it,” Switchblade told you sternly, “Follow me.  And you’ll be fine.” You tried to listen to her.

Tried to ignore the cries of pain - the way members of EXO begged for their lives - the way only moments ago that had been you.

You watched the back of Switchblade’s head, followed her down the winding hallway.

You had to get out.  You had to get out.

Someone to her left tried to knock the gun out of her hand, and Switchblade reacted in less than half a second - bullet through his ears.

Your chest tightened.  You felt sick.  You felt euphoric.

You were going to live, weren’t you?

Just as you reached the end of the hallway - just as Switchblade turned to give you a triumphant smile - somebody stood right in front of you both, blocking the way.

Immediately, Switchblade’s body language changed.  She froze.

Because staring back at her was someone you knew she’d known her entire life.

Sana.

And she was pointing a gun at her.

“Switchblade,” Her voice was so calm, it scared you, “Nice to see you again.  It’s been a while hasn’t it?” The polite tone in her voice belied the anger she felt.  You could see the fire in her eyes.

“I suppose you’ll want to kill me now.”  Switchblade answered coldly, “For Baekhyun’s honour?” “How could you betray EXO like that?”  Sana seemed genuinely hurt for a moment - it flickered across her face - before it was replaced with that same look of cold contempt, “I thought you loved my brother.” “I did.”  Switchblade’s fingers flexed as she pointed her own gun back at her old friend, “But they left me no choice.”

“As you’ve left me no choice.  I hope you understand why I orchestrated all of this.” Switchblade nodded once, sharply, “I understand, Sana.”

“So?”  She cocked her head to the side, “We’re at a deadlock.  Neither of us can shoot.” You heard the regret in Switchblade’s voice, “You always did underestimate me, Sana.  Not just you.  But all of you.  EXO.” And in the blink of an eye, Switchblade had slashed a knife she’d kept hidden behind her back across Sana’s throat.  She was dead before her body reached the ground.

You worried you might vomit again.

“C’mon.”  She turned to you - a look of regret on her face, “It’s over now.” As the front door swung open and sunlight flooded your eyes, you felt like you might very well break down in tears.

Switchblade led you over to the white van that she assured you would take you back home to Jungkook.  Jimin sat behind the driver’s wheel, with Jin in the passenger seat.

You and Switchblade took the backseats.

“He loves you, y’know.”  She told you as she climbed in beside you, “Jungkook I mean.  We all see it.” There was a long moment of silence.  You leaned your head back against the headrest and sighed heavily. 

Then you finally admitted what you’d always hoped, always wanted.  Always dreamed.

Your eyes met her and you nodded.

“Yeah,” You whispered, “I know.”

And then finally, you gave in and fell asleep.

//

You woke up hours later, in darkness.

Your throat was closed tight as your hands clutched for something - anything that might anchor you.

Where were you?  Where were you? Sana’s dead body…

Namjoon’s mangled fingers…

Violetta’s cruel smile….

Taeil’s eyes…

“Oh god, oh god, oh god…” You were sobbing now, body wracking with the force of it, and before you knew it a light had switched on and two warm, strong arms were wrapped around you.

“Y/N.  Oh my sweet baby.  Oh Angel.  I’m so sorry, so sorry…”

You knew that voice.  You recognised that warmth.

As you pulled away, you found yourself staring into the beautiful eyes of your husband, Jungkook.  He relaxed his hold on you but kept one arm around you, pushing hair away from your face and kissing away the tears.

“I’m so sorry Y/N,” You realised suddenly, that he was crying too, “My darling Angel.  I’m so sorry.”

You didn’t know what he was apologising for, but you didn’t care.  Instead you buried yourself further into the warmth of his chest, and breathed in deeply.

It was him.  Jungkook.  You were home.  You were safe.

After a few moments of holding each other, you finally pulled away enough that you could look into his eyes.  He was staring back at you like you might disappear into smoke right in front of him.

“Jungkook…” The word sounded foreign, even to your own ears.

Had it been so long since you’d said it?

“I’m so sorry Y/N.  So sorry.  About everything.” He brought a hand up to cup your cheek and you leaned into his touch.  The smile that graced his lips caught your chest, “God.  When they found Namjoon’s car - Jesus.  I thought I might lose my mind.  Y/N.  My baby.  My sweet, sweet baby.”

He kissed you then, softly, gently, like he was trying to take everything in.  You let him take whatever he wanted from you - you gave him your heart, your soul, your mind freely.

You always had.

“How did you find me?” You asked after he’d pulled away to press kisses against your cheeks - your chin - your eyelids.

“Yoongi.”  He murmured, pushing his forehead against yours and staring into your eyes like he might lose you any moment, “He was tracking Violetta.  We knew she was behind this.”

“Is she…” Jungkook’s eyes hardened, “Yes.  I made sure of it.”

You felt sick again.

She was cruel, awful… But did she deserve death? “I’m sorry I wasn’t there when Switchblade found you,” He ran his hands through your hair, bringing you closer, “But Taehyung wouldn’t let me go.  He said I was too emotionally attached to you.  It was too dangerous.”

You laughed a little, feeling a big, fat tear fall down the dip of your nose, “And are you?” “Am I what, darling?” 

The softness, the affection.. The warmth.  It was overwhelming.  But you took everything he gave you.

“Are you emotionally attached to me?”

He paused for a moment, eyes searching your face fervently.  Looking for something - something you knew he’d already found.

“God Y/N of course I am.  Jesus.  I am so attached - I can’t… I couldn’t go on without you,” He grabbed your face gently and brought your lips to his, pressing a kiss to the side of your mouth.  His eyes were closed as he pulled away after a moment.

“Even though I’m missing a tooth?” You made a feeble attempt at a joke, smiling to display the gap where your incisor should’ve been.

You’d meant for it to be funny, but instead Jungkook’s eyes snapped open - dark and angry - like two swirling orbs of obsidian black.

“I wish I could bring him back so I could take out every single one of his teeth.  And then some.”  His eyes softened and he pressed another kiss to your mouth, “I’m sorry I couldn’t protect you.” You touched your fingers to his lips, and shook your head.

“I know you did your best, Jungkook.”  Your body was flushed with warmth at the way he was holding you, “Please don’t hold yourself accountable for this.”

“But -” “No.  This is the risk we take.  The risk I take as a member of Bangtan.  As your wife,” You pressed your cheek against his naked chest, “And it’s worth it.”

Jungkook squeezed you tighter at your words.

After a moment, you kissed the space in his chest where his heart beat.

“I love you,” You whispered against the skin, running your nose through his soft hair, “I love you so much it consumes me, sometimes.”

He paused.  Then he pulled you away and tears misted his eyes again.

“God.  I don’t deserve it.  Don’t deserve you Angel.”  He kissed you again, “But I love you too.” The words - though you’d known they were true - filled your heart with an indescribable sense of fullness.

“Say it again.” He chuckled and pressed a kiss to your shoulder, “God.  Love you so much I can’t even think straight sometimes.”  He ran his hand through your hair, “Love you, Angel.  Love you.” The words set fire to your heart.

That night, when you made love, Jungkook told you again and again and again how much he loved you.  How you completed him.  Made him whole.

You returned the sentiments.

And then when you were both spent, lying in bed together, staring at each other in adoration - like two lovesick teenagers - he breathed out a sigh of relief.  Like something he’d been holding in for years.

“I’ve been running for my feelings for you for years, Y/N.”  He told you as he pressed his nose against yours gently, “That’s what Taehyung told me when he said he wanted us to get married.”

Your heart turned, “He did?” Jungkook nodded slowly.

“Was he right?” You whispered, fresh tears coming to the surface.

Jungkook pressed a kiss against your mouth that felt like a vow.  

When his eyes were boring into your own again, he cupped your cheek and stroked your brow.

“Of course he was,” He laughed softly, “ A Capo is always right about these things.” And the truth was…

You couldn’t really argue with that.

//

FIN

[shestrying2write]

Blank Pages pt 2

Pairing: Ivar x reader

Warnings: Violence, attempted rape, curse words, implied rape, character deaths, my stories timeline and the shows timeline inconsistencies.

Word Count: 6.9k

Author’s note: Sorry it’s so long, I really wanted to keep it whole. Part 3 is being worked on as we speak and I’m sorry for the delays. Let me know what you guys think and send me any questions you have. I also have a face claim for Erik if any of you are curious !

Summary: What happened in the time Y/N ran away

Masterlist

Pt 1 // Pt 3

Ivar arrived defeated, hoping for the comfort of Y/N and of his mother. His father was gone now, and it was up to him to avenge him. He couldn’t wait to just be coddled by his mother and tell Y/N that she was right and that he should never have gone. That he wished he had stayed with her in Kattegat, that he had missed her more than anything. Not only did he not find Y/N at the docks to receive him, but he was given the news of his mother’s murder and that Largetha was now in charge. To say that Ivar was livid, was an understatement. He only saw red and wanted to do nothing more than seek revenge. His mother was gone, surely Y/N was holed up, terrified, he never should have left her alone. He dragged himself to her small cabin to find it abandoned. It looked like no one had  lived there in all the time he had been gone. She really had left. He looked around the room at all the tattered parchment with fading ink. All mostly blank pages, none explaining where she had gone. But an even worse thought crept its way into his mind; perhaps something had happened to her. What if Largetha took the two women he loved most from him? His brothers tried to assure him that Y/N had most likely left before the death of their mother, but none of them knew where she was or where she could have gone. Bjorn made sure to ask his mother about her and he was told she knew nothing of who he spoke about. She told him she had nothing against the sons of Ragnar and would never go out of her way to harm them, she simply wanted her home back. Ivar had taken the last crumpled letter he had found of hers and tucked it away in his belongings. She wrote that she loved him, she had to come back. She just did. 

The anger from losing her only fueled the vengeance he wanted to get on Lagertha. He had moped around Kattegat, snapping at everyone that got in his way, refusing to talk to anyone. His arguments with Sigurd had amplified and he had nearly killed him once. 

“There are other women in the world” Ubbe had tried to distract him once, only to be met with a scoff

“None that will ever want to touch him” Sigurd had mocked. Ubbe tried to stop the argument before it got out of hand, but that was an impossible task. “I mean just look at Y/N. Poor girl, felt trapped. Terrified Ivar would kill her if she didn’t pretend to not be nauseated by him. She ran the first chance she got. I’m sure she’s much happier now, with a real man” if Ubbe hadn’t intervened, the knife in Ivar’s hand would have been lodged in Sigurd’s eye. “You’re insane Ivar” Sigurd had gotten up to leave, his last words venom to Ivar’s ears “No wonder Y/N left you” 

The days turned into weeks. In his attempt to forget about Y/N he had tried to lay with the slave that all his brothers shared and that had been a disaster. All he could think about when he was thrusting above her, was how Y/N probably laid under another man. How she was probably lying with any man she wanted, how she had lied to him when she told him she loved him. He hadn’t been able to satisfy Margarethe, he had done nothing but hurt her and now every woman in Kattegat knew he couldn’t function as a man. Y/N had stolen his heart, and his manhood and he couldn’t forgive that. Yet, late at night when he would hear girlish giggles, he would remember her. The way her eyes crinkled, the way her nose would scrunch up whenever he complimented her, the way she would hold his hand and sit in silence with him whenever he was upset. She had done everything to make him happy, she had given up other friendships, she had turned down men that offered her marriage all for him and he couldn’t give her the one thing she asked him for, to be his priority. As much as he wanted to hate her, he couldn’t. He stayed up, looking at the stars, imagining that she also looked to the stars and thought of him. 

“If the gods ever bless me with her presence again, I will not let her slip through my fingers” he had sworn to Hvitserk once as they drank. “I will not lose her a second time. I will choose her, like I should have done from the beginning” his brother only nodded in agreement as he listened to Ivar, too scared to say anything that might set him off. 

The weeks went by and Ivar spoke about her less and less, putting all his anger and energy toward uniting all the Vikings for Ragnar's Vengeance. Things had slowly begun to become like they were before. Eventually Ivar didn’t speak of her at all and his brothers knew better than to bring her up. 

—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•

Leaving had been the hardest thing she had ever done. That was until she had run out of food and still had no settlement. Then hunting was the hardest. She cursed herself for not taking it seriously when Ivar tried to teach her to fight. She never thought she would be in a position where she would have to. She imagined Ivar would always be there to protect her.

After living in the woods for a couple of weeks in peace, she had heard screaming. She grabbed her dagger, terrified and made her way to the noise. “Ivar would kill you if he knew you were putting yourself in danger” she mumbled to herself as she quietly continued going through the trees. She shook her head and scoffed, Ivar’s dead, he doesn’t care about much anymore. As she continued her path she saw a woman in fine clothes, on the floor, her guards dead, and two men laughing trying to rip at her dress. Y/N made eye contact with the woman and signaled for her to remain quiet. She threw something on the other side of the clearing and one of the men fell for it.

“I’ll go check it out. Don’t have too much fun without me” he laughed as he left to check out the noise. 

“Alright my lady. Time to see if you taste as good as you look” the other man growled as he pulled the woman by her leg, lifting her dress. Before the woman could scream, blood splattered all over her face as Y/N jumped the man and dragged her knife across the man’s throat. 

“Can you walk?” She asked the frightened woman who simply nodded and stood. “Good. Go to your cart, lay down and don’t come out until I come back for you.” The woman nodded once more and muttered a thank you before running to her cart. Y/N couldn’t believe she had done that. She killed a man, she defended a woman in need. Ivar would have been proud. She heard the other man come back.

“Must have been an animal” he shouted over. He saw his companion on the ground covered in blood and ran to him. He crouched to examine his body, Y/N had hoped she could catch him off guard as well but she accidently stepped on a twig. He rushed over to her and grabbed her arm, knocking the knife out of her hand. “You’re not the Earls daughter, but I’m sure you’ll feel just as good warming my bed” he threw her on the ground and began undoing his belt. Y/N’s eyes went wide as she tried to find an escape and found none. She was pinned to the ground with no weapon. The man lifted her dress and then his body fell heavily on top of hers, the woman she had saved standing over him, with a huge piece of wood in her hand; she had hit him upside the head.

“I know you said to wait for you, but you looked like you needed help” she stuttered out, tears staining her face, her dress filthy and her hands shaking. Y/N crawled out from under the man and quickly grabbed her dagger. She grabbed the woman in a quick hug. They both turned their attention to the man groaning and trying to stand. The strange woman took a step back, but Y/N was angry. This man had tried to take advantage of them. She turned the man over and quickly plunged the dagger into his throat. His gurgles echoed in the woods as Y/N pulled out her dagger and wiped the blood on the man’s clothes. She searched both the bodies for anything of value they might have. “How can I ever repay you?” The woman called out to Y/N. 

“No need. I’m just glad I got to you before those men could hurt you”

“Please. Come back with me. My father, he’s an Earl. I’m sure he can pay you, he would surely be grateful. Let me at least offer you a bath and a warm meal” Y/N nodded and smiled. For once the gods were looking out for her. 

The journey wasn’t a long one. The woman was named Asger. She had been right. Her father had been grateful to Y/N for saving his daughter. He had insisted that she stayed with them as a thank you. He always kept an eye on her and Y/N had noticed. She confronted him about it and he had become flustered. He confessed that though she was much younger than him, he admired her. He admired the way she trained and the way she looked out for his people, even though they were strangers to her. His people liked her and she quickly became one of them. He confessed that he was smitten by her and told her he believed that Odin had put those two men in his daughters path in order to bring Y/N to him. She had never been so flattered. She apologized for thinking the worst of him and agreed to having dinner with him, just them. Their relationship had grown quickly and before the new season they had wed. Y/N was as happy as she could be with the pain of Ivar’s death still in her heart. The village accepted her and loved her, they were appreciative of all she did for them. Her new husband would joke that if his people were given the choice, they would probably choose her over him. Unaware, Y/N didn’t realize that when he made these comments, he wasn’t joking, he was warning her. He slowly stopped her from training, by telling her he didn’t want her to get hurt and that he would always protect her. He promised her love and asked her for children. She was hesitant at first but she had always wanted a family, she was just sad it wouldn’t be with Ivar. Though the Earl wanted children, the gods did not wish that fate upon them. One night the Earl had gotten frustrated when Y/N told him she had bled, which meant she wasn’t pregnant. During the midst of their argument he had accidentally let it slip that it was him who had sent the men to teach his daughter a lesson. 

The longer they were together, the more disgusted she became with him. He wasn’t the sweet man he had presented himself as. He was cruel and vindictive, he had basically confined Y/N to the bedroom until her womb would take his seed. His daughter had become her ally. She would sometimes sneak in to give her a treat or keep her company. One day she stopped coming and Y/N had heard from a thrall loyal to her that Asger had been sporting a big bruise on her cheek, most likely given to her by her father. Y/N felt lost, she had begun talking to Ivar when she was alone, hoping her voice would reach him in Valhalla. 

“WIFE!” Her husband had come stumbling in, causing her to jump. “I’ve had a bath prepared for you, with your favorite oils” she hesitantly got up from her sewing spot and followed him to the tub. He helped her undress and helped her wash her hair, if anyone saw them, they would think he was the most loving husband. Y/N was suspicious but said nothing. “A dear friend of mine is arriving tonight” Ah, there it was. He wanted her to be on her best behavior. To pretend they were the happy couple he told the world they were. “He has very powerful warriors, together we could conquer many. It is important that he sees us as a unit, that he sees us as stable. Is that clear?” His grip on her hair had gotten tighter and she let a squeak escape her lips as she nodded 

“Of course husband” she muttered out. He released her hair and planted a kiss on her forehead. 

“Wonderful. I shall see you at dinner then” with that he left and Y/N was left with tears running down her face. Why did Ivar leave her to this life? She couldn’t handle another man like her husband. Surely this friend was as cruel as the last man that had come to ask for Asger’s hand. Thankfully she was able to persuade him into denying the man and protecting Asger. It had been at her expense, but she had grown fond of Asger and would do anything to protect her. 

She had arrived before her husband to the dinner and decided to walk outside, enjoying the fresh air, making sure the thralls had everything prepared for the guests. “Are all the women here as beautiful as you?” A voice had startled her and she blushed. She looked around to see who the man had been talking to, surely it couldn’t be her. She didn’t recognize him, he must be one of the warriors that came with her husband's friend. He chuckled softly at her disbelief and stepped closer. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to disturb you”

“Not at all” she managed to muster. It was rare that she was at a loss for words, but this was the first kindness she had been offered by a man in a long time. As he stepped closer into the light, she was mesmerized by his deep green eyes, almost like Odin had picked his two favorite emeralds and placed it on this man’s face. “You really shouldn’t go around saying things like that. It could land you in trouble”

He laughed again, his laugh drawing her in further. “Perhaps you are right, but, I feel like things with beauty given to them by Freyja herself should be told” Y/N’s whole face burned and she was glad for the dim lighting, so that the handsome man could not see her reddened cheeks. 

“You are too kind, truly.” She knew she needed to run away from this man before her husband saw them. He would not be happy that such a handsome man was giving her attention. “I’m sorry, but I must be going.” Before he could respond she made haste in walking back to the hall only to be met with the eyes of her angry husband. 

“There you are, wife. I was beginning to worry” he chastised her softly. She simply bowed her head and made her way to her seat beside him. 

“My apologies husband. I was enjoying the fresh air” he hummed in response and squeezed her hand as a warning. The hall began filling with people, their people and her husband's friends. She saw Asger quietly make her way in and sit in a corner. She leaned over and placed her lips quickly on her husband's cheek “I’m going to mingle with our guests my love” she didn’t give him a chance to refuse as she got up and made her way to Asger. They were hidden amongst the crowd and they hugged. “My dear Asger. I am so sorry if I have brought you any misfortune” she reached for her cheek and Asger just let out a smile 

“Do not be silly Y/N. On the contrary. I’m sure you have taken some of the humiliations that he usually dishes on me” she grabbed Y/N’s hand and squeezed it. “I am simply thankful to have a friend as kind as you”

“We will escape this hell I promise you” she whispered in her ear as she hugged her. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to pretend to be a wife in love with her husband.” Asger nodded to her And Y/N made her way back to her husband, spotting the familiar red hair she had seen when she was walking outside. She hoped he wouldn’t say anything to her, in front of her husband. 

“There she is. My lovely wife” her husband pointed to her and the man standing in front of her husband turned to look her way. His green eyes looked...sad? Y/N made her way to them and bowed her head as she reached the men “Y/N, this is my old friend Earl Erik” The man reached for her hand and placed a kiss on her knuckles

“You are very lucky to have such a beauty to call yours” he muttered, his eyes never once leaving hers. She cursed herself for letting her cheeks get so red and for letting herself get so flustered.

“Dangerous words” Y/N whispered with a smile and Erik chuckled with a nod. 

“She is quite a beauty isn’t she? A great prize indeed” her husband’s voice was not one of praise for her, but of pride for his appearance. 

“Indeed” Earl Erik let out a wink as Y/N giggled. Her husband quickly ruined their moment as he stood from his seat and laid a hand on his friend's shoulder. He guided him away and Erik's eyes followed Y/N no matter how far they got from each other. Y/N tried to keep from looking at him, but she could always feel those emerald eyes staring at her. 

The night had dragged and Y/N had excused herself to her chambers as her husband planted a drunken and sloppy kiss on her lips. It was the only time she had noticed that Earl Erik had looked away from her. Sleep had quickly taken a hold of her and for once she didn’t dream of Ivar. Instead of the ocean she dreamt of emeralds. She was woken up in the morning by her husband getting ready for the day. “I will be very busy today. I expect you to keep Erik company today. He informed me he will be staying some weeks and with any luck he’ll ask for Asger’s hand and we’ll be united as family” she felt her smile falter at his last sentence and she nodded. 

“Of course husband” When her husband left, she found herself spending extra time getting ready. She had her thralls braid half of her hair up and wore a dress the same green as his eyes. She shook her head as she admired herself in the mirror “it’s just to make him want to marry Asger” she reminded herself. She straightened her dress one last time and added flowers into her braids. 

She walked into the hall to see Erik devouring his meal. “Do they not have manners where you come from?” She teased as he looked up at her with the biggest smile. 

“I didn’t realize you would be blessing me with your presence” he wiped his mouth and stood up, to pull a chair out for her. 

“Well you’ve already eaten.” She pushed the chair back in “without me” she shook her head and tsked at him with a mocking laugh. “How about we explore?”

“I’d follow you to Valhalla and back if you asked” he winked at her again and she shook her head in mock disapproval. 

“Dangerous words” she repeated to him and soon that became their routine. She would show him around, they’d have lunch together, he would spend the day complimenting her and she’d tell him they were dangerous words. 

Three weeks had passed and she had learned everything about him and he had learned things about her as well. She told him how she had lost the love of her life once and he confided in her that he too had lost the love of his life during childbirth, but that their son was alive and healthy back home. He also admitted that while he was fond of Asger, he had seen her grow up and had no desire to marry a woman that he saw as a daughter. She had also learned that he loved when Y/N wore red and when she added flowers into her hair and so she did both more often. He had confessed that he was jealous his friend had met her first, but he would never betray him. He confessed that he wished his friend could see how lucky he was to have her. One night while he had gotten drunk, he had tried to kiss her and she had quickly moved away. “I’m married” her voice was shaky and so were her hands as she looked around. He had apologized profusely and told her he didn’t know what came over him. She excused herself from his company and avoided him the rest of the night. She had confided in Asger what had happened and Asger simply smiled. 

“He clearly cares for you. My father doesn’t deserve you” Y/N shushed her and looked around to make sure no one heard. 

“Asger you cannot say these things. Your father could hear” 

“Run away with him. Just because I’m stuck with my father forever doesn’t mean you have to be. You lost your great love once, don’t let another slip by” She grabbed both of Y/N’s hands and tried to comfort her. 

“Those are foolish dreams Asger. Earl Erik simply wants to bed me, like every other man. He wouldn’t stand by me if I chose to defy your father.” She stood and kissed Asger’s cheek “Now go get some sleep. I hear that arrogant man who asked for your hand is back. You’ll need all the rest you can get” 

They departed and entered their respective rooms. Y/N’s husband was waiting for her as soon as she entered. The closer she got to him the more the smell of mead flooded her senses. He was drunk. “WELL THERE IS MY WHORE WIFE” he slurred out. Y/N cringed at his comment and began to undo her braids

“I don’t know why you speak to me like that” before she could turn around to face him, he had run over and gripped her arm to spin her. His hand wrapped around her throat and he squeezed until she was clawing at his hands for air. “Please” she begged and he only moved closer to her face. 

“I told you to keep Erik happy, to convince him to marry Asger. NOT TO FUCK HIM UNDER MY OWN ROOF” She tried to shake her head to deny it, but her head was spinning and her chest hurt. He finally let go of her and she dropped to the floor coughing. “Get up” he slurred as he kicked her leg. 

She took a deep breath and stood, keeping her head high. “I did no such thing husband. I would never do that. I have simply been keeping him company”

“Between your legs !” He spit back “I know what you and my daughter are planning and it’s not gonna work. You will stay married to me, Erik will go home to his child and as for Asger.” His eyes went dark as he chuckled “She will be taken away for marriage by Gunnvor for breeding”

Y/N felt her heart jump out of her chest as she reached for his arm, throwing herself on her knees at his mercy “No please. You Cannot send her to that man. He’s killed his last three wives. Please husband. I beg of you. Spare your daughter. Please” The kohl she once had neatly around her eyes were now staining her cheeks and her tears would not seize. 

He shoved her back and as his stare bore holes into her he yelled “You disgust me. Get up.” She sobbed softly still muttering pleas for Asger. Swearing up and down that nothing had happened between her and Erik and that nothing ever would. All she felt was a sharp pain on her cheek and then a blunt edge hit the side of her head as her husband slapped her and her head fell against the table. She knew her cheek would bruise and she felt a warm liquid run down the side of her head. Her husband threw a rag at her and spit on the floor beside her legs “Clean yourself up and get to bed. Tomorrow we welcome our future son and bid farewell to Asger” 

Y/N curled into herself as she let herself cry. When she heard her husband's snore fill their chambers, she stood up and cleaned herself off. She stood over him as he slept. She had never felt so much disgust for another human being. She had to stop him. She had to save Asger, by any means necessary. 

—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•

Her fingers slowly traced the dark mark on her cheek. She flinched as she attempted to put on something to help cover the dark mark. She was furious and embarrassed. How could she show her face? Everyone would know how she got the bruise. Her thrall quietly opened the door and informed her that her husband required her presence in the hall. She took a deep breath and plastered the biggest fakest smile she could as she made her way to the feast. Her eyes immediately found Erik’s and she saw his smile fade as she got closer. She made quick work of looking away from him and joining her husband's side. 

“I can’t wait for this night to be over” He groaned as his hand found its way to her thigh, giving it a squeeze. She didn’t flinch or move away, she felt numb. She could feel people’s eyes on her and she hated that they were probably whispering about her. 

“Where...where's Asger?” She whispered, not wanting to give her husband any more reason to be angry

“Getting ready to be acquainted with her new husband” There it was again, that deep chuckle that made fear run through her veins. 

Her eyes were on the floor most of the night, she didn’t feel like mingling or pretending like nothing was wrong. When her husband had left her side to relieve himself, she saw Erik run over. His hand instinctively going for her cheek and she moved her head away “Please” she pleaded with him “Just leave me alone”

He quickly apologized for any actions of his that might have cost her pain. “Did he do this to you?” Y/N just nodded her head and felt a tear come down her cheek. “I am so sorry that he is an idiot. Let me take you away. Far from here, where he can never touch you again” His hand found its way back onto her cheek, his thumb softly stroking her skin

She looked into his pleading eyes and smiled. Gods how she wished she had met him first. Asger’s words rang in her ears, the words that told her she should take this opportunity to get away from her aggressive husband. “I can’t” her lips, quickly met the palm of his hand as he stroked her cheek and then pulled it away. “I can’t abandon Asger. Now please. Leave before my husband sees you talking to me. Leave before more rumors begin” When he refused to go anywhere she sighed “Then I will go.” She stood up and walked away from him, leaving him wishing he could save her. She quickly ran down the hall, trying to find where Asger could be, she needed to save her before it was too late. Y/N had survived in the woods once, she could do it again, this time with Asger by her side. As she was trying to come up with an escape route for them, she saw Asger stumble out of a room. Her hair was messy and tears stained her cheeks. Her pink cheeks covered in Kohl and her dress half laced up. “Asger” she called out as she ran to her. By the look in Asger’s eyes, she knew she was too late to save her. They both fell to the ground as Asger weeped into Y/N’s shoulder, holding her tightly. She sang softly to her and promised to protect her, no matter what. “I’m so sorry I didn’t get to you in time my sweet dear Asger. I’m so sorry” 

After what felt like hours of them just holding on to each other, Y/N took Asger to her room and helped her bathe and laid her down. She held her until she had fallen asleep and kissed her forehead before leaving. How could her husband do such a thing to his own daughter. What kind of a man was he? She tried to calm herself down as she reached her room. She could hear her husband mumbling to himself and she felt the anger boil in her veins. She opened the door and found him undressing himself. When he turned to her he had a big drunk smile on his face. “There you are” the slurs were barely understandable. “Come here wife. Let me fill you with a baby tonight” He quickly stomped up to her and grabbed her by the arm, shoving her down on the bed. Her body bounced and then felt the weight of his on top of hers. “I’m going to make you scream my name. Let Erik know who you belong to” He had pinned both her arms above her and his lips were on her neck. 

“Husband please.” She pleaded as she tried to push him off “Not like this.” she felt his grip get stronger on her wrists as his other hand went down to part her legs for him. She quickly turned her head, her lips met his and she kissed him. “Let me make you feel good first.” She tried to close her legs, trying to buy herself some time. His grip loosened and she pulled her wrists out of his hold. Her arms snaking around his neck, she kissed him again and flipped them over. She straddled him and leaned down, her lips on his and her arm finding its way under her pillow. She felt the cool steel of the knife that Ivar had made her. Even from Valhalla he was protecting her. Her husband’s hands roamed her body, pulling up her dress, trying to feel more skin. She leaned into his ear and placed a small kiss before whispering “This is for Asger,” His response was nothing more than gargling as he choked on his own blood, Y/N’s knife was embedded in the center of his throat. She grabbed her husband's hands, which were thrashing trying to push her off and pinned them above his head. “How does it feel husband? To feel so powerless. To know that you lose? To know that your daughter will inherit your lands? To know that your wife is the one who took your chance from ever dining in Valhalla?” She stared into his eyes, making sure there was no life left in them before getting off of him and going to wash her hands. ‘I killed him. I did that. Me’ her thoughts were running rampant and she didn’t know what had come over her. How could she be so stupid? What was she going to do now? Surely they would kill her. She knew the people loved her, but she killed their leader. Once her hands were scrubbed clean, she changed her clothes and snuck outside for fresh air. She walked toward the water and saw someone sitting on one of the logs, staring at the sea. She tried to go back but knocked over some things and emerald eyes immediately found hers. She sighed in relief, she always felt so comfortable around him. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to bother you” She tried to turn away, but the rustling of him running over stopped her. 

His hand reached toward hers and his fingers lightly ran over the back of her hand. “Please don’t go” his whisper was a plea and she obeyed. How could this man be so magnetic? He led her to where he had been sitting and they both sat on the ground. “I’m leaving tomorrow,” his eyes traced over every feature of hers as she stared blankly at the sea. The same sea that had taken Ivar away from her. “My offer still stands. Run away with me” 

She turned to look at him with tears in her eyes. “You’re better off without me” 

“How could you say that? I- I think I might love you” his eyes darted to their intertwined hands before looking back into her eyes, his were full of hope and possibility. “Your lost love would want you to be safe and happy.”

She took a deep breath and closed her eyes. She felt almost guilty as she heard the waves of the water crash against the boats, almost as if Ivar was protesting from Valhalla at the mention of him. She had gotten married once, but she knew it wasn’t love. Erik however, he was different, she could see herself round with his children, she could see herself growing old with him, waiting at the docks as he returned from battle. She leaned closer to him as her eyes opened, could she betray her love with Ivar? Was this even a betrayal? Before she could overthink anything, she let her lips crash into Erik’s, her hands pulled him by his furs and held him close. Erik didn’t hesitate to kiss her back, his hand on her cheek and the other on his lap. 

She rested her forehead on his as she breathed deeply “I killed him” her voice was almost inaudible and Erik didn’t think he could have heard her right 

“What was that?” his fingers stroked her cheek.

“I killed my husband” This time she said it louder and sat back, she’d rather pull away from Erik than have him pull away from her. She couldn’t handle being rejected right now. “He-” she started crying and Erik pulled her in once more. He wrapped his arms around her and tried to soothe her. “He tried to have Asger killed once, and tonight he had her ra-- I just couldn’t take it anymore. He was cruel and he didn’t deserve to continue living.”

Erik closed his eyes and held her tighter against his body, his hand running up and down her back slowly. “It’s going to be okay.” He didn’t know how to react. He would have done the same in her position, he knew that her husband was no good and there had been many occasions where he wished he had killed him, himself. Nothing made him angrier than when he had seen Y/N bruised, he had almost killed him right then. “I will protect you. What did you do with the body?” he asked and felt Y/N stiffen in his arms. She told him that it was still in their chambers and Erik went to wake some of his men to help her dispose of his body. He took her to Asger’s room and told her to stay there until morning. He would come and get her when the time was right. 

Upon entering Asger’s bedroom, she woke up. “Y/N what are you doing here?” Y/N ran over to her and hugged her tightly “You’re safe now, just like I promised. He will never harm you again. No one ever will again” Asger didn’t know what Y/N meant but she didn’t ask any questions, she just held her friend until she was ready to talk. They both fell asleep, holding each other once more. 

Morning had come too quickly and Y/N woke up first. She patiently waited for Erik to come and get her. They spoke of what to do next and then Erik left to make preparations. Y/N awoke Asger and told her to come to the hall when she was done getting ready. There was an important announcement to be given.

Once the hall was filled with people, Y/N took her usual seat, beside the empty one her husband usually sat on. Erik had his men posted in front of her for protection. He wasn’t sure who in this village he could trust around her. She quieted the hall and Erik stepped up to tell the people what had happened to their Earl, but he felt her small hand on his shoulder “It should be me” she whispered to him and he frowned at her, but nodded. As he stepped aside she stood in front of her people and took a deep breath “Your Earl is dead” the crowd broke into loud whispering as they all talked amongst themselves. 

“How?!”

“Who’s in charge now?” “When did he die?”

The people were all shouting questions and she settled them all before continuing. “All of you know me, and you knew my husband” she looked around at the knowing eyes. Some people looked down and avoided her gaze. Everyone knew she had been a happy and cheery woman before marrying their Earl. They all heard the commotions and they had all seen her bruise. “You know he wasn’t the kindest man, you know he always looked out for his interests and not yours” some people scoffed and others agreed, most remaining silent. “I have helped you all from the start. Asger has always looked out for you all. She has always been the people’s ruler. My husband wasn’t fit to rule, he wasn’t fit to be a father and he definitely wasn’t fit to be a husband” The crowd began murmuring again, some were beginning to put it together. “Last night your Earl tried to rape me” the hall was loud now and so Y/N raised her voice “So last night, your Earl choked on his own blood. Killed by my hand” Everyone went crazy and Erik quickly pulled her behind him in case anyone loyal to the late Earl tried to kill her. But she refused to hide. “I married him thinking he was a different man. I was wrong. I will accept whatever punishment you all deem I deserve.” she bowed her head to them.

“Good riddance” one man yelled out

“He was a shit Earl anyway!” “No one will miss him!”

Y/N wasn’t expecting that the hall would all be yelling praises and acceptance at her. She knew her people were unhappy but she didn’t know they would celebrate his death. Of course some were loyal to her late husband, because they were friends and offered certain privileges, but they were severely outnumbered and so they remained quiet. “Will you take over as Earl then?!” a woman had yelled out and Y/N simply smiled as her eyes met Asger, who had heard enough to know what was going on. 

She shook her head “You deserve someone that cares for you all, someone that has already been your ruler, someone who has grown with you and will protect you all no matter the sacrifice.” She walked into the crowd and toward Asger “You deserve Asger as your Earl” Asger was in tears as she heard her people cheer for her. Y/n leaned in to hug her and whispered “No man will ever control you again. You’re free.” 

The women stared into each other's eyes and then Asger looked behind Y/N at Erik “As are you Y/N. Go with him. I’ll be fine on my own.” They nodded at each other and began the celebrations. 

Asger had the man who had violated her punished and sent on his way, never to return to her lands again. She hand picked her guards and offered Y/N her pick in warriors to take on her journey with Erik. The second biggest goodbye of her life was bittersweet. She left Asger with tears in her eyes and love in her heart, they promised they would write and visit each other. 

Erik did not miss a beat in claiming Y/N as his and together they sailed to a better life. “I can’t wait to spend the rest of my days with you” Erik’s hand was around her waist as they stared into the long sea.

She turned into his arms and wrapped her arms around his neck “Dangerous words” she mumbled as she stood on her tiptoes to kiss him.

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Accidental Research, ch 4- A Study in Misdirection

Sherlolly Appreciation Week, day 4- this person won’t stop flirting with me, please pretend to know me

“You want me to do what?”

Molly sighed, being mortified enough to have said it once.

“Just for today,” she added. “I’m sure he’ll never want to visit again after this! As he said, it’s just to pay his respects.”

Sherlock chuckled. “I must say, Hooper, I am rather impressed at your quick thinking when receiving your admirer’s original letter. Ingenious to think of using the wedding announcement I’d had published some weeks ago!”

Molly didn’t feel particularly ingenious.

“He must have been terribly smitten,” Sherlock said with a teasing smirk as he slid the letter back and forth between his fingers. “Five years later and he decides to proclaim his undying love!”

She couldn’t hide the blush on her cheeks even if she tried.

“He’s a lovely man, he really is. And I even fancied him a bit, when we were younger. But now I find I don’t- that is, I just don’t want that- with him , I should say…” Molly waved her hand, cutting off her own rambling. “But it was stupid to reject his advances by writing back and saying I’d recently been married and sending that announcement from the paper. I nearly fell over when I got his second letter stating that he’d be in London today and should like to call on us.”

“Well,” Sherlock said, standing from his chair with a little clap of his hands. “It is fortunate I have no pressing cases today and can pour all of my energy and abilities into this endeavor. You’re fortunate that this is Mrs. Hudson’s day off as well, so you won’t have to hear too much clucking. Have you any idea of his arrival time?”

Molly shook her head, running her nervous hands over the skirts of her rarely worn dress. “No, which is why I came over directly after receiving the post. I was terrified he could have already shown up at your door!”

“I would have figured things out.”

Molly sputtered out a little laugh. “All of it? I can’t imagine even you would have been able to deduce all the history of why this strange man was at our flat talking as if we were married.”

“Perhaps not...but I would have played along, just the same.” He gave her a little smile that made her stomach do a pleasant little flip.

That was when they heard footsteps ascending the steps of 221B. Now Molly’s stomach did a far more unpleasant sort of flip, terror taking hold that they’d somehow ruin this and make them both look like complete fools. Sherlock gave her a little nod, moving towards the study as they heard the knock at his door.

“Darling, why don’t you see who’s at the door,” Sherlock said to her, being very purposely audible.

Molly took a breath of courage and opened the door with a bright smile.

“Thomas Harding, my goodness!” she exclaimed, looking into the eyes of her old friend. “I wondered if we might see you today. Do come in!”

“Thank you so much.” The man stepped inside, removing his hat as he did. “I hope it’s not an intrusion, I just thought it would be a shame to be right here in London and miss seeing you- and your husband of course!”

“Did somebody say husband?” Sherlock asked with a little smirk as he rounded the corner. “I believe that’s me.”

“Mr. Harding,” Molly introduced, “This is my husband, Sherlock Holmes. And darling, this is Mr. Thomas Harding.”

“A great pleasure to meet you sir,” Thomas said enthusiastically, shaking Sherlock’s hand. “I already know you must be a man of impeccable character to have earned the hand of Miss Hooper- ah, pardon me! Mrs. Holmes, I should say!”

“I certainly do my best, and as for the less appealing parts of my character, my darling wife is terribly forgiving,” Sherlock replied with a grin. “We were just about to put the kettle on, weren’t we? Mr. Harding, would you care for some tea?”

“Oh, I couldn’t impose!”

“Not at all!” Sherlock insisted. “Please, we’d be happy for you to join us.”

Molly glanced at Sherlock and she was pretty sure he picked up on the objection in her eyes. They could have exchanged some pleasantries and let the man be on his way. Now they’d need to continue this charade through tea and she hadn’t necessarily prepared herself for that.

“Please have a seat and make yourself comfortable,” Molly forced herself to say, taking Thomas’s coat and hat and hanging them up before turning back to Sherlock. “I’ll get the tea started.”

“Excellent! I’ll just give you a hand, seeing as the stove has been terribly fickle of late. You will excuse us, Mr. Harding. You have caught us on the day off of the help, you see.”

Mr. Harding seemed to blush at this. “Oh I’m terribly sorry for the imposition, in that case.”

“Nonsense, good man,” Sherlock waved him to sit again. “Any friend of my Molly’s is welcome any day indeed. We don’t stand to ceremony here.”

The two of them went down and through to the kitchen as Thomas made himself comfortable on the sofa. Sherlock instantly joined Molly by as she filled the kettle, speaking in a hushed tone.

“I think you should understand his true intentions of coming to call.”

“Oh?” Molly breathed in answer.

Heavens, she could smell his soap, the bit of hair pomade, and the tobacco from his pipe, and the combination was surprisingly intoxicating.

“He’s not just here to pay his respects, he’s here to pass judgement on our marriage and decide if it’s worth continuing to write to you.”

Molly’s eyes got wide. “I don’t want him to continue writing to me!”

“I assumed as much.”

“So we need to be convincing then,” she hissed emphatically. “I hate to ask such a thing of you, but I beg you...please leave no doubt in his mind about the happiness in our union.”

“Believe me, Hooper,” Sherlock replied with a devious smirk. “That was already my intent.”

Some minutes later, they all sat with their tea, Molly becoming a little uncomfortable as Mr Harding went on and on about their years growing up together.

“It was a simpler time I’d say,” he said thoughtfully. “I never really understood how you wanted to get into something like medicine as we got older.”

Molly couldn’t help thinking he said the word like it was a disease instead of the opposite.

“Well it takes a very specific sort of mind to be drawn to such a field,” Sherlock commented before Molly could make a reply. He turned, gazing at her in what could only be described as adoration. “A brilliant mind.”

Molly felt her cheeks flush and she smiled shyly back at him. “Coming from you, that’s quite a compliment.” She looked at Mr. Harding. “Mr. Holmes is known both in London and even abroad as one of the very best detectives. I could only hope to be half so brilliant!”

“How fascinating,” Mr. Harding commented. “You must be highly sought after and kept terribly busy with such a profession.”

“I am often busy, yes,” Sherlock replied, setting his tea cup down after taking a sip.

Mr Harding made a little clicking sound with his tongue, smiling at Molly. “How lonely for a new bride.”

Molly’s blood began to boil. Sherlock was more than correct in his deduction of Mr Harding’s intentions and she was not having it.

Molly reached over, taking hold of Sherlock’s hand atop his knee. “Actually, since becoming Mrs. Holmes I haven’t felt lonely for one moment,” she said directly to her supposed husband.

She could have sworn she saw Sherlock gulp as he squeezed her hand in response. Their shared gaze started to make her a little lightheaded, so she released his hand and smiled at their guest.

“Do tell us how your family business has been?”

“Thriving, I’m pleased to say!” Thomas replied.

He definitely did seem pleased to say it and proceeded to go on about the particulars of the masonry business and why he was so successful at it for at least the next twenty minutes. Molly had to contain her amusement a number of times because Sherlock was very clearly struggling to contain his irritation.

“Well…” Thomas set his finally empty cup down and stood up. “I’ve taken up enough of your time. It was lovely of you to have me in.”

“Oh it was our pleasure,” Molly gushed as she and Sherlock stood with him, thrilled that he was finally taking his leave. “Very kind of you to call.”

“Not at all. I’m so glad for you...to see you settled.” Thomas gave the two of them a tight smile.

Unexpectedly, Sherlock reached over, gently brushing a lock of hair off the side of her face as he gazed down at her.

“I can honestly say I’ve never felt so very happily settled,” he said softly.

Molly nearly forgot anyone else was in the room with them until Thomas Harding was heard taking his coat from the rack and slipping it on.

“Congratulations again,” Thomas added. “I wish you both all the best.”

“And you as well,” Sherlock replied, placing an arm around Molly’s shoulders.

When the man had taken his leave, they stood there for a moment, Sherlock’s arm still around her and both unmoving.

“Well,” Molly finally said, her voice cracking a bit as Sherlock finally stepped away. “I feel that was...surely quite convincing.”

“Yes,” Sherlock stepped aside, hands clasping behind his back. “I could tell by the time he left that he will not be attempting contact again.”

“Well, thank goodness for that!”

“I agree,” Sherlock replied, giving her a little smile that took her aback. “Thank goodness.”

[the-jade-cross]

Journey to Middle Earth - Chapter 15

Summary – What if JRR Tolkien never gave Thorin a love story… because the person that was meant to be Thorin’s was not yet born when he wrote the Hobbit? Sara journeys from her world to Middle Earth after an accident, with a mission. To change something about the Hobbit story… but she is not sure what. What she does not know is that while trying to prevent something from happening, something new might arise between her and the dwarf prince….even if it is not on the agenda!

Warnings – None, no explicit scenes, some kissing, violence, frightening creatures, mentions of abuse.

Pairings – Thorin Oakenshield x OC

Sara was completely out of breath when she reached the bottom of Ravenhill. She could hear the battle roaring behind her and above her, Azog’s voice calling out orders to his men on what to signal to the troops. Sara knew that because it took her thirty full minutes to get this far, she only had about ten extra to get in position before Thorin arrived with backup. Reaching to her bag, she drew out her pistol and made sure it was fully loaded with the remaining three bullets before sticking it into her belt against her back. Next, she drew out the extra jacket she brought in case it was cold and golly it was! Pulling it on, she buttoned it up and then rolled her bag up in a ball, placing it behind a large rock and covering it with stones so it wouldn’t get in her way.

She then proceeded to quietly climb the steep incline to the frozen river and lake above, keeping her eyes and ears open for orcs or Azog. She had just slipped to the ledge that looked up at the top of Ravenhill when she heard a battle cry below and the sound of yak hooves… Thorin, Fili, Kili and Dwalin!

She sighed and ran her fingers over her covered stomach fondly, “It’s okay babies. Daddy will be here soon, and everything will be okay.”

“Sara?” a voice asked from behind her.

Sara looked over her shoulder and all the broken pieces of her heart reassembled and healed back together at the sight behind her. There stood Thorin, wearing just his pants, boots and the navy blue jacket Bard had given him. Sara could see the little stitch marks where Nori had woven mithril into the fabric. Good!

Thorin’s face was one of shock, surprise, joy, pain, hope and smitten adoring love. He was panting slightly and Orcrist was black with blood but he was unharmed. Sara couldn’t even breathe out his name but instead let out what sounded like a mixture of a cry and a gasp. Spinning around, she rushed to Thorin and the dwarf had just enough time to open his arms when Sara flung herself at him, arms wrapping around his neck, hands weaving into his black hair, nose buried in his neck and chest shaking with joyous sobs. Thorin’s strong arms encased her and his face found refuge buried in her red curls.

“I thought I lost you,” Thorin choked, clutching her close.

“You never lost me… I was just waiting for you to throw down your crown and find yourself,” Sara said, pulling away to cup his cheeks, watching as tears sprung to his blue eyes and trickled down his cheeks.

“How did you know I threw…” Thorin began but then smiled, “Oh right… you already knew.”

“Well I was still afraid,” Sara admitted, feeling tears prick her eyes, “I was afraid you wouldn’t overcome it like in the story… I thought… I thought I had failed and…”

Thorin cut off her tearful rantings, grasping her cheeks, “no, no, no! If anything, I failed you both as a husband and as the father of our children. I should have listened and been stronger for you. I love you so much and I failed you. Forgive me…”

Sara let out a sobbing laugh before crushing her lips to his, their tears mingling upon their lips as they caught up on all that they had been deprived of for days.

“Are you…” Thorin whispered, almost nervously, “Are you really with child?”

Sara smiled and taking Thorin’s large hands, placed them over her rounded womb, “not with child… but with children.”

Thorin’s head snapped up to look at her and his eyes glowed while a huge grin broke across his face, “Two of them!?”

Sara barely nodded before Thorin swept her up into his arms while he showered her lips, neck, nose, cheeks and forehead with kisses. Finally setting her down, pressing a chaste kiss to her lips, he held her gently by the waist.

“Aralime,” he muttered against her lips, sending butterflies through her heart. “You are too good for me.”

Sara went to reply when she felt a small jolt in her gut and she looked at Thorin worried, “Where are Fili and Kili!?”

“They are fine,” Thorin assured her gently, “I sent them to scout the tower for signs of the orcs. Blasted Azog disappeared.”

Sara swallowed but knew she couldn’t tell Thorin anything when suddenly she heard Dwalin rushing toward them with Bilbo on his tail.

“Thorin! Sara! Azog is here!” Dwalin cried.

“Bolg has a second army coming from the North, they will be here in seconds,” Bilbo panted. “We will be trapped here.”

Thorin’s eyes widened, “He wanted us here… this is a trap…”

Then it came… the sound of pounding drums that only aided in making Sara’s heart drop… oh no…

The four of then turned to the tower, only to see the glow of torches as Azog walked to the edge with a few orcs flanking him, a young dwarf grasped in his grip. Sara was not prepared for what she saw… it wasn’t Fili…. But Kili!

“No….” she gasped. Where was Fili!? What happened to change this!?

Azog began to speak in black speech before lifting Kili to hold him over the edge of the cliff. While the three males gasped and stared in horror at the scene, Sara crouched down behind Thorin’s figure and slipped her gun from her belt before lifting it and aiming… she needed to make a perfect shot that would not hit Kili but strike the Magnesium beneath Azog… a little to the left… up… avoid Kili’s flailing legs… click the safety off… gun loaded and ready? Yes… now… fire…

A loud crack sounded as Sara pulled the trigger… then silence…

*******

That silence… It was the silence you endured when waiting for someone to answer the phone… that silence you feel when you load your mail to see if you got that email… waiting for your teacher to tell you if you passed or failed the test. That silence when you think you just failed your greatest purpose and all eyes were on you… then that crackle, the spark that signals that not all hope is lost.

Sara smiled, watching Azog who looked around for the source of the noise, unaware that the noise was beneath his feet. When the magnesium erupted beneath him, all the orcs began to scramble away but Azog wouldn’t let go of Kili’s coat! Sara lifted the gun again and aimed, biting her lip. For any one listening, guide my hand. The second shot sounded, directly followed by Azog rearing in pain as he clutched his hand which was now bleeding horribly. He released Kili and the dark haired dwarf plummeted toward the rocks below. Sara’s heart stopped beating for a full second when Kili’s body made contact with the ground… but his body barely touched it when the muscovite gave way and there was a splash and the sound of said dwarf spluttering water from his mouth.

Sara beamed when Kili’s head emerged from the hole soaking wet. She saw Bilbo, Dwalin and Thorin staring at her in stunned silence.

“That’s one down,” Sara observed, pocketing her pistol.

When Bilbo rushed over to Sara, telling her how brilliant she had bene, Thorin looked to the tower where Azog was disappearing into the shadows.

“Fili!” Thorin yelled, realizing he couldn’t see his second nephew!

As he ran across the ice toward the tower, Dwalin called after him and followed.

Sara turned to Bilbo and placed her dagger in his hand, “Stay safe,” she said before running off.

“Oh, great. Just leave the hobbit here…” Bilbo mumbled.

*********

Find Fili, find Fili… Find Fili; Sara kept repeating it over and over in her mind as she wove through the hallways of the tower. Luckily she had not encountered many orcs and the ones she had got a good taste of dual sword steel. She needed to find Fili… and Kili! Knowing them, they hadn’t stayed put wherever they were!

“Fili!” she called, “Kili!”

Her voice echoed off the stone walls and she got no reply. Running around two corners, she went to call their names again but another feminine voice beat her to it.

“Kili!” which was followed by the unmistakable voice of Kili… oh no…. Bolg time!

Sara sprinted blindly toward the voices, hoping beyond hope that when she got there, Tauriel was not on the ground and Bolg’s pike was not through Kili’s chest.

Crap! She should have told Nori to weave Mithril into Kili’s clothes too! Please oh please let this not happen! She could barely see the ground beneath her feet as she sprinted through the tower, tears streaming down her face, red curls in her eyes and her swords in her hands, black with orc blood.

When she came stumbling down the flight of stairs, she saw Kili jump from a ledge onto Bolg’s shoulders but the dwarf missed Bolg’s head! She was in time. Sara took in the scene. She saw Tauriel on the ground holding her leg which was definitely sprained and Fili was crouching over her, sword in hand and ready to pounce to his brother’s rescue only for Bolg to throw Kili from his back and straight into the blond dwarf who cushioned his brother’s fall.

Both boys scrambled to their feet and reached for their weapons when Sara called out, making herself known.

“Hey! You witless worm!” she could resist using Thorin’s famous line he had spoken to Smaug in Erabor not three days prior.

Bolg’s huge figure turned to the girl who stood under the archway, opposite the two dwarves and the she-elf, Bolg smack dab between the two parties. The orc grumbled with joy at the prospect of another kill.

“I don’t suppose you know English?” Sara inquired.

As Bolg approached her, she looked at Fili and Kili who were watching with saucers as eyes, Tauriel confused by Sara’s presence but also horrified at the dangerous situation she was in.

“Trip him,” Sara muttered to the three, ignoring the approaching figure of Bolg.

“What?” Fili shouted in horror when he saw how close Bolg was to Sara.

Sara slowly sheathed her two sords before touching the pistol hidden in the back of her belt beneath her tunic. “Trip him,” she said again with a firm confident voice.

When Fili and Kili saw the small black contraption in Sara’s hands, they caught on and while Kili pulled the immobilized Tauriel out of the way, Fili got up and stuck out his foot, readying himself. Sara saw that they understood but when she went to meet the black eyes of the giant orc, all she saw was white… a searing pain clutching her chest and the air getting caught in her lungs. She heard the blood curdling screams of Fili and Kili, the sound of Bolg grunting in satisfaction… and then the click of the safety button, the pressure of the trigger beneath her finger and then the power of the gun went off with a bang. She heard the distant yell from Bolg and then the stumbling of feet, the sound of a voice plummeting over the edge… and then the hard ground beneath her back and then darkness overtook the white light.

********

Thorin gasped. How was this even possible? He had been pinned underneath Azog’s huge body, Orcrist being the only thing between his chest and Azog’s pike. He had chosen to do the last thing from sanity and slipped Orcrist away, allowing Azog to pierce him but using the now free elven blade to bury into Azog’s heart. Thorin had rolled over so Azog’s limp body was beneath him as he drove Orcrist deeper. As he watched the orc’s breathing falter, he awaited the warm feeling of his blood seeping through his clothes… but none came.

Rising to his feet, he touched his abdomen but the navy-blue tunic he wore was untouched. No pierce hole… not even a scratch! Was Azog’s blade blunt? No… he checked it and the blade was razor sharp. He should have been dead… the pike could have skewered a wild boar! (Hehe, sound familiar;)) Thorin continued to pat himself, expecting a wound to appear when he noticed that the seams of the tunic had been torn and new thread had sewn it back together. Grabbing the hems, he ripped it and he saw what lay between the two thin layers of the coat… Mithril! But how? It was not by coincidence that the mithril ended up there, protecting him from death! Wait… Sara!

She knew! She… did that mean… he would have died then? She knew it… and she saved him… Thorin’s one-sided conversation with himself was brought to an end when a yell of misery echoed through the whole of Ravenhill… that was Fili!

Grabbing Orcrist, Thorin sprinted across the ice and up the stairs toward the sound. When he found his eldest nephew, he feared that he would find Kili down and wounded but what he saw made his heart stop and his breathing falter. There stood the red-haired she-elf, holding a thrashing Kili back as the young dwarf fought against her arms to get to Fili, tears streaming down his face and a scream ripping from his throat in a frenzy of agony. Kneeling nearby was Fili who had his head bowed, tears soaking his short beard, his shoulders heaving with sobs. And there, lying on the cold stone with her limp head in his lap was Sara. Her red curls plastered from sweat to her face, one hand limp at her side and the other wrapped limply but protectively around her abdomen. Her swords were sheathed and lying on the ground was her pistol, still smoking from the shot.

Thorin let out an ear piercing cry before running to them, falling to his knees next to Fili who allowed his uncle to pull Sara from his arms. Thorin cradled her body to him desperately as he rocked back and forth soothingly.

“no! This cannot happen… please… please don’t leave me… please…”

Sara did not respond, and her piercing blue orbs remained closed as Tauriel finally released the frantic Kili who fell into Fili’s empty arms in a fit of heart wrenching sobs.

“Thorin!” A voice cried as several figures approached.

A small figure sprinted over and fell on the other side of Sara, touching her limp hand and Thorin barely noticed the red curls of Ryder as he stared at his sister, too shocked to speak.

Bilbo rushed over next, clutching something in his arms, “I found this hidden under some rocks… it is Sara’s bag.”

Hastily taking the bag from the hobbit, Fili began to search for something that might rouse the girl from her slumber. Sara always did have unusual things in her bag that Fili did not understand but things that managed to do amazing things.

“it is her notebook,” Fili muttered as he drew out the single content of the bag.

Flipping through the pages, he paused near the end and looked at the others in shock.

“Thorin… look…” he whispered.

Thorin barely looked but when he did, his eyes widened. The sketch was of him, Fili and Kili all lying on tables… dead…

“Sara told us that Thorin was in some sort of danger,” Dwalin explained, having been there the whole time with Gandalf, Omar, Axel and some others but no one had noticed. “She told Nori to sew mithril into your coat Thorin.”

Thorin brushed his fingers over the material of his coat, “It saved me from dying…”

“And when Azog had me dangling over the ledge,” Kili sniffled. “If she hadn’t… done whatever it was she did… I might have died… and Fili…”

The two brothers looked at each other in shock which did not go unnoticed by Thorin.

“Boys… what happened?” he demanded when the two went silent.

“If Sara had not gotten Bolg’s attention and shot him… one of us… or all of us could have been dead right now,” Fili muttered.

“She did it on purpose… she let Bolg kill her… to save us… just like how she shot Azog’s hand and made me fall into the water,” Kili murmured, tears pooling in his blue eyes again.

“Why?” Thorin muttered, pulling Sara’s body closer to his chest. “Why would you do that Sara?”

“Because she had a plan,” a voice observed.

All eyes lifted and Thorin and Dwalin stared in shock and disbelief as a small figure stepped from behind Gandalf. For a moment, they did not know him till they saw the eyes, the nose and the tattoos…

“Father?” Thorin breathed.

Thrain smiled as he dropped to his knees next to his crying son and pulled Thorin into a tight embrace. When he pulled away, he looked at the girl in his son’s protective arms and smiled.

“She is a clever one Thorin. She knew of my impending death and warned Gandalf before he found me in Dol Goldur. If it had not been for her planning, I would be dead. Just like she had planned to save you my son from the beginning, she knew how she would go about it. She had mithril sewn into your clothes for a reason and that was to protect you. She reserved enough shots in that contraption of hers for a reason… to rescue my grandsons. Everything she has done has a reason.”

“Then why did she give her life so willingly?” Thorin sobbed, his voice cracking and husky from tears.

Thrain smirked, “She didn’t. That is no ordinary tunic she wears, my son.”

Thorin frowned in confusion before looking at the rough brown fabric that covered Sara’s body… he looked to his father and Gandalf who were both smiling and then he spied Omar and Axel nearby, proud smiles on their faces.

The dwarf turned his eyes back on Sara and saw that her face was not void of color, her lips parted in barely visible breathing, no blood pooling around her…

“Dragon scales.”

*******

Everything was hazy when Sara came to, groaning from the pain in her chest that felt painfully similar to cardiac arrest and heart burn, even though Sara had no idea what the former felt like.

She went to sit up when she suddenly felt an arm slip behind her shoulders to support her while another hand grasped one of hers gently but firmly.

“Sweetheart, are you feeling alright?” a deep gently baritone voice asked.

Sara turned her head and the haziness faded to reveal the concerned face of one Thorin Oakenshield who sat beside her.

“Thorin?” Sara whispered, “You’re okay! You’re alive!” she cried joyfully, throwing her arms around his neck and burying her face in his chest.

Tears pricked Thorin’s eyes at the joy in his wife’s voice, “All thanks to you darling. Fili and Kili are fine too. They are helping clear the battleground.”

Sara’s shoulders slumped in relief at those words, leaning her head against Thorin’s neck before her hands crept to her womb.

“The babies are fine,” Thorin assured her, “Oin checked you.”

Sara went to answer when a little kick against her palm made her gasp with happiness. Reaching over she took Thorin’s hand and pressed it to her belly just as another kick came. Thorin’s face split into a huge grin and he bent down to press a kiss to Sara’s belly before pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead, afraid that she would break like China if he did anything more than that. Their loving moment was interrupted when the door flew open and in rushed the whole, and I mean whole, company plus Gandalf, Ryder, Omar, Axel and a strangely familiar dwarf.

Fili and Kili were at the other side of her bed in an instant, asking her if she was alright, sore or tired but Dwalin quickly shushed the two mother hens. Next, Omar and Ryder hopped onto the end of her bed to give her quick hugs and patted her over to make sure Oin didn’t miss a wound or bruise.

“I’m alright,” Sara assured everyone. “So happy to see you all safe and unharmed… wait… Lord Thrain!?”

The older dwarf walked toward Sara who moved to sit on the side of the bed, Thorin not letting her move further. Thrain smiled at the girl and took the hand that Thorin was not holding possessively.

“Thank you so much my dear for protecting my family. Not just rescuing my son and grandsons but loving them and giving Thorin a chance to live a happy life. If it were not for you, half of us would not be standing here today.”

Sara smiled past her tears, “I was afraid the whole time… afraid that I would fail and all of you would die…”

Thrain smiled and when he spied the smitten look his son was giving Sara, he turned to the others with a knowing look. “We should let her rest up for the feast tonight.” He said.

Fili and Kili went to object when Thrain gave them a warning look and if they thought Thorin was scary, Thrain was terror itself. The door had barley shut behind their retreating forms when Thorin turned to Sara and cupping her face in both hands, pressed a heated, hungry kiss to her lips. The girl let out a squeak in surprise before melting into Thorin’s loving kiss.

When they parted, Sara’s eyes were glazed over, her cheeks rosy and her lip swollen. Thorin playfully kissed her nose before looking at her lovingly.

“Mahal woman. What did I do to deserve you?” he mumbled.

Sara smiled and booped his nose with hers, “You gave me a fairy tale love story. One that I never thought I could have. That is how,” she whispered.

Thorin groaned and buried his face in her neck, muttering something about words being seductive. He lifted his head and sighed.

“I should get myself under control before I do something explicit in front of Mason.”

Sara looked to where Thorin had nodded to see that he had procured a little bed in the corner of their bed chamber where the large black dog lay curled up, snoring happily.

“He refused to leave your side,” Thorin whispered playfully. “I am starting to think between him and the twins, I will have some daunting competition for your attentions.”

*********

“Are you sure you cannot stay?” Thorin pleaded with Bilbo as he walked with him to the front gate, “Not even till the twins arrive?”

Bilbo smiled, “I would love to but if I stay much longer, people may begin to think I am dead!”

Thorin chuckled when suddenly Fili and Kili sprinted over, calling their uncle’s name. Thorin began to run but Kili held up his hands in surrender, “Easy there uncle. It is not the babies. Sara is not in labor. We just came to say goodbye to Bilbo.”

Thorin relaxed and Bilbo chuckled. Ever since Oin said that Sara would go into labor any minute, Thorin had been on edge. If someone called his name or even shouted, he began to sprint to the royal chambers.

This made for several false alarms every day for the past three days. Kili almost pranked Thorin and told him that Sara was in labor but luckily Fili found out and called his brother’s bluff before it went off.

Bilbo was just about to bid them farewell when Ori came running their way, eyes wide and face split with a grin.

“Thorin! It is time! The twins are coming!”

Thorin hesitated for a moment, waiting for someone to stop him but when no one did, he rushed back inside at full speed.

“Well I guess I can stay a while longer,” Bilbo muttered.

When Thorin found his father, Dwalin, Balin, Gandalf, Axel, Omar and Ryder standing outside he and Sara’s chambers, he listened for the screams… Oin had told him that Sara would probably scream and cry… but it was silent… another false alarm?

But then the door opened and Oin stepped out with a huge smile on his face.

“Congratulations Thorin! They are here!” the old dwarf said.

Thorin blindly walked into the room alone to find Sara sitting propped up by pillows on their large bed. Never had she looked so beautiful with her face sweaty, hair a mess and nestled in her arms were two tiny bundles. Walking over slowly, Thorin stared down in wonder at the two round faces that lay sleeping against Sara’s bosom. Their little round cheeks were puffy and red but smooth and healthy. Adorable buttons noses and long lashes that brushed their cheeks. One had jet black hair while the other had hair as red as roses.

“Thorin, meet Soren and Thora,” Sara whispered, smiling.

Thorin slowly sat down next to her and wrapped his arms around her and the twins, pressing a kiss to Sara’s brow before slowly bending down to kiss the twin’s foreheads one at a time.

He ran his finger over his son’s fire red hair and then touched his daughter’s rosy cheek, feeling tears prick his eyes when Thora wiggled at the feeling and grabbed his finger with her tiny little fingers.

“Thank you,” he whispered to Sara, “Thank you for loving me and rescuing me from everything.”

Sara beamed and kissed his lips, “I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else, doing anything with anyone but you.”

********

Epilogue – 5 years later.

“No, no, over to the left,” Thorin instructed the men as he and Dwalin tried to explain to the constructing dwarves the order in which they had to rebuild Erabor. The front of Erabor had been finished about a year ago and all the gold and gems had been put in crates, multiple crates sent to each suffering town, village, or city before the remaining were stored away in vaults in the deepest chambers of Erabor, only to be brought out if the need of extra coin ever arose.

“It will be grand again Thorin,” Dwalin beamed with pride as he watched the dwarves move away the broken pillars (a curtesy of the deceased Smaug) and began to decide how to go about putting up new ones. “Just like the old days.”

Thorin smiled and nodded as he looked around. Already the halls of Erabor were filled with golden light and the rustic grey color of the interior of Erabor had returned to its beautiful bluish green marble look after much cleaning and construction. The sounds of laughter, yells and voices filled every nook and cranny of the kingdom and Thorin was proud to realize that a part of the noise was thanks to him and Sara.

“Papa!” a small but bright voice cried.

Thorin immediately spun around with a huge grin on his face as he bent to one knee and held out both arms. The little bundle of joy and red curls leapt into Thorin’s waiting arms and wrapped her plump little 3-year-old arms around Thorin’s neck before planting a wet slobbery smooch to his cheek, cringing at the feel of his beard on her face. (Sora below)

“What are you up to pumpkin?” Thorin asked as he planted the little girl on his hip, her arms still tightly around her neck.

Dwalin smiled at the sweet exchange and waved at his little goddaughter. Sora’s fire red curls fell all the way to her waist which, considering that she was barely two feet tall, was not that long. Her eyes were so blue that at first everyone feared that something was wrong with her but there was absolutely nothing wrong with spunky little Sora other than her infatuation with her father, giving her the title: Papa’s Princess.

“Thain was pulling my hair so mummy told me to play somewhere else,” Sora said, sticking her bottom lip out in a pout.

Thorin chuckled and kissed her rosy cheek, “Thain is only two years old pumpkin. He doesn’t know that it hurts when he pulls your hair. Is Thea asleep?”

Sora nodded, “Sorin got her to sleep but she threw a fit when Thana tried.”

(Sorin below)

The youngest Oakenshield, little one year old Thea had a habit of being particular about who put her down for a nap and everyone soon realized that her favorite rocker was 5-year-old Sorin which honestly was a saving grace because quiet, gentle Sorin took after his mother and preferred to help with the little ones while Thana was a perfect replica of Thorin, spunky and hating to be indoors. With a sixth child on the way, Sara was able to take some rest with Sorin helping with the little ones and Thorin had to worry less when he left every morning to his duties.

“Papa,” Sora whispered, pulling Thorin’s attention back to her, patting both of his cheeks with her little hands. “Do you think mummy is mad at me?”

Thorin furrowed his brow, “Of course not pumpkin! Mummy is never angry with you.”

Sora shifted on her father’s hip, “But she was crying and frowning all day today…”

This caused both Dwalin and Thorin to stop. After having five children, you would think that a mother would go crazy since her eldest were only five years old but not Sara. She was full of energy and she never tired of caring for her children that she saw as pure miracles. She never snapped or got angry with her children and whenever one of the kids had done something really bad like hit their sibling, she sent them to Thorin because she knew he would discipline them instead of just giving them a gentle reprimanding like she would.

Thorin looked at Dwalin who nodded. There was only one explanation for Sara’s attitude… pregnancy hormones. Dwalin reached out his hands to little Sora who leapt into her Uncle Dwalin’s arms.

“Go take care of the queen,” Dwalin said with a smirk. “We cannot have a replay of Thain’s pregnancy.” (Thea below)

Thorin smiled. When Sara was pregnant with Thain, the little boy was so small that she barley started showing until the final month which worried Sara, fearing that perhaps she had miscarried the baby and was carrying a dead baby around in her womb. One day when baby Thain was asleep in her womb, Sara had broken down in sobs because she couldn’t feel him move and Thorin had found her sobbing in the bathroom and he spent the rest of the day in bed comforting her. Luckily, the next morning Thain decided to announce his presence by jabbing his mother in the gut with his foot which erased that fear but after that, Thorin always made sure he was ready to run back to the royal chambers if Sara ever needed him.

When Thorin entered the royal chambers, he saw Sorin gently carrying a sleeping Thea to the adjoining room where little Thain was probably sleeping for his nap. He gave his eldest son a questionable look and Sorin nodded towards Thana’s room, silently answering his father’s question about where Thana was. Finding that Sara was alone in their chambers. (Thana below)

Thorin slipped silently into the room to find that the four poster bed sheets had been overturned and messed up from the children playing on it. Wooden blocks and little wooden animals were scattered on the floor. Sitting by the fading fire was Sara, rocking back and forth slowly in the rocking chair. Thorin knew that look… she was tired. He moved to close the door when he heard a faint sniffle and froze in his movements. Looking back at his wife who had her back toward him, he saw her reach up to wipe her cheeks… crying… that meant only one thing and Thorin found himself smiling at the thought despite himself.

Closing the door, he walked over and bending down, pressed a kiss to his wife’s bare neck, eliciting a warm sigh from her. Sara turned her head, eyes closed in an effort to come into some form of contact with her husband that she had not heard return.

“You’re early,” she whispered when her nose found his and she rubbed her cheek across his like a baby seeking skin contact with its mother.

Thorin smiled as he wrapped his arms around Sara from behind and continued to press kisses to her neck and jaw, rubbing her arms with his hands. “Sora told me that you were feeling down. Miss me much?”

Sara chuckled softly before turning to look him square in the eyes, showing that her blue orbs were pooling with unshed tears. “How do you manage to know exactly what is wrong with me?”

Thorin smiled before bending down to press a warm kiss to her lips that were swollen from her biting them to hold back tears. “You cry silently whenever you miss me or are lonely.”

Sara sighed in defeat but Thorin beamed, coming to stand before her. Bending down, he slipped one arm under her legs while wrapping the other around her waist and picking her up slowly and gently, minding the rather large bump of her womb. Sara wrapped her arms around his neck and silently allowed him to carry her to the bed where he placed her down before crawling in next to her. This was their routine whenever one of them or both of them needed some physical contact to ward off the stress and anxiety. Sara rolled onto her side and Thorin shuffled till his front was flush against her back, slipping a leg between hers before wrapping his arms around her expanded abdomen and burying his face in her hair.

“I miss you too,” Thorin whispered as he felt himself drift off to sleep. “Every day. The moment I walk out that door I fight with myself to not turn around and go back in, calling for a sick day.”

At first, he thought Sara had fallen asleep when she didn’t reply but then he felt her fingers touch his before turning to kiss his hairy cheek. “I love you, big bear.”

Thorin smiled at her pet name before returning the kiss but this time to her lips. “Took the words right out of my mouth Pixie.”

“You know I hate that nickname,” Sara muttered into the pillow.

“What can I say?” Thorin chuckled. “You are petite and cute like a little pixie fairy… or we could go back to honeybun.”

“Nope,” Sara observed. “Pixie is fine. Honeybun sounds like you are referring to by bum.”

Thorin stifled a laugh which came out as a chuckle before he held Sara closer, both of them falling into a peaceful sleep.

Thorin’s eyes cracked open and he looked around. Oh… it was a dream. It was so real that he felt like he really was back there a few months prior to that evening when he comforted his heavily pregnant wife. Rolling over, he saw that all five of his children had made their way into the bed he and Sara shared, and he couldn’t help but smile at the sight. Sora lay directly behind him, having probably clutched his body in her sleep. Her cheek pressed into one of her hands and her lips parted as she snored softly. On the other side of her lay Thana who had her back to her twin whose arms were wrapped protectively around little Thea who had her thumb dangling from her mouth where she had fallen asleep sucking her thumb, her free hand holding onto Sorin’s fingers. Thain was lying in the empty space that Sara usually occupied, probably had been sleeping up against his mother but when she had left the bed, he had rolled into the extra space, spread out like a star fish and snoring louder than all his siblings combined. Definitely a trait he picked up from his uncles.

Slowly getting up and pushing the blankets aside, he spied a faint light in the bathroom, but the door was cracked so Sara wasn’t using the toilet.

He rose to his feet and didn’t bother to put anything on over his pants or bare upper body. Mason who lay at the end of the bed perked his ears at his master’s movement but Thorin put a finger to his lips and then pointed to the children. Mason got the hint and crawled over to take Thorin’s place on the bed, nuzzling the sleeping Sora with his snout.

Thorin crept to the washroom and peered inside to see Sara staring at herself in the full body mirror. Her hands were hanging by her sides before she reached up and ran her fingers over the roundness of her abdomen. Thorin saw her shoulders drop and she sighed softly.

“Amralime,” Thorin whispered, stepping in.

Sara looked at him over her shoulder and from the puffy look of her face, Thorin realized that she had been crying.

“Hey,” Thorin cooed, walking over to her and wrapping her arms around her, drawing her against his chest. “What is wrong love?”

Sara didn’t not look him in the eye but stared out at the huge bump that was wedged between them, “I’m fat.”

Thorin’s eyes widened before a smirk flashed across his face, “You are not fat darling. You’re round with our child.”

Sara remained silent and the smirk faded to a frown on Thorin’s face. Pulling away, he cupped her face and lifted her eyes to look at him. “Darling, if you do not want to have any more children after this…”

Sara shook her head violently, “No Thorin! It’s not that. I want to have as many children as possible with you… I love being pregnant and the morning sicknesses, cravings and labor pains are so worth it. I just… I just never feel pretty when I am pregnant…”

Silence enveloped the two before Sara shivered as Thorin untied the tie of her nightgown and let the silk pool at her feet, leaving her stark naked except for her underwear. She had stopped wearing a bra because her swollen breasts felt constricted and painful when she did. She moved to cover her ample bosoms but Thorin grasped her hands in his and looked her dead in the eyes.

Just looking at the expression on Thorin’s face made Sara’s whole body heat up even though the room was chilly, and she bit her lip when Thorin’s hands trailed from her palms to her elbows. Slowly he began to walk around her as if stalking his prey, eyes drinking in her ample curves that had only increased with her numerous pregnancies. Sara felt Thorin’s fingers briefly touch her thighs and backside before trailing up her spine to her neck, over her shoulder and then down the center of her front, between her bosoms, over her bump…

Sara stared at him speechless as he knelt down in front of her, blue meeting blue as he held her gaze. When he dropped to his knee in front of her, he wrapped his arms around her back and pulled her closer till his face was pressed against the side of her womb, arms around her lower back and her hands instinctively weaving into his messy black locks.

“You are beautiful sweetheart,” he whispered. “It is all I can do to not ravish you when I see you rounding out with our child. Your fingers and feet are not skinny, your belly expands, your chest grows, and your cheeks seem perpetually crimson and glowing. You are a picture of beauty when you are pregnant love.”

He lifted his head to look up at her before planting a warm kiss to the side of her belly, doing the same to the other side before placing one more at the crest of the bump. His hands ghosting over every inch of her body, he slowly rose to his feet, lips trailing up her chest to her neck where he placed a chaste kiss to the corner of her jaw before pulling back to look her in the eyes.

He muttered something in Khuzdul under his breath just loud enough for Sara to hear and when she did, her eyes widened at what he had said. Thorin’s darkened eyes locked on hers before he slipped a hand behind her neck and brought his lips down on hers hungrily, Sara letting out a little gasp from the intensity, but she found herself melting into it, her head swimming and her hands gripping at his bare shoulders for support of her weak limbs.

“You brought me out of the darkness and into the light. Only someone truly amazing and spectacular could do that. Never ever think that you are not beautiful or you are unloved. If my last words are not “I love you” then you’ll know that I did not have time.”

Sara smirked before poking her husband’s bare chest. “Quoting Jamie Fraser from Outlander huh? You’ve been hanging out too long with my brothers.”

Thorin smiled before helping his wife pull her nightgown back on before picking her up into his arms and returning to the room. The two soon realized that there was no chance that they could squeeze back onto their bed so Thorin lay down on the large couch, Sara laying down between his side and the back of the couch, her head and hand on his chest and the two fell into a deep, peaceful sleep. Needless to say, when they woke the next morning, all five of their kids had somehow squeezed onto the couch and were sleeping on top of them, around them on between their legs. Mason sat on the floor looking Thorin in the eye as if saying “I tried.”

“And that dear Frodo is the end of the story,” Bilbo said with great ceremony, clapping his hands together before leaning back.

The white-haired hobbit considered the little boy who sat on the floor before him, barely five years old with curly black hair all over his eyes, bright blues staring at his uncle with amazement.

“But that cannot be the end!” Frodo objected. “How did it really end? Are they still alive? What about Sara’s brothers? And the children! Was the baby a boy or a girl!?”

Bilbo chuckled as his nephew ranted on and on about his questions. “Now, now lad, one question at a time.”

Frodo stuck out his lip in a pout but listened silently and intently as Bilbo continued.

“Sara and Thorin Oakenshield had another son: Shayne (above) with raven black hair like his father and the same blue eyes as both his parents. Sara’s brothers grew up and all went their separate ways. Axel went off to Gondor in search of adventure, found a lovely lass there and settled down for the rest of his days. Omar and Ryder remained at Erabor until they were grown men before they journeyed out to visit every corner of Middle Earth. They finally returned to the Mountain Village where the duties of Chief were handed to Omar after Deke passed on. They married and lived there till the end of their days. Young Kili married the love of his life, the red-haired she-elf. Not long ago, Kili’s age began to dwindle and the two took a boat to the undying lands so they would never be separated from each other ever. Kili was crowned king when young Sorin rejected the crown and he lived many years as a wonderful king of Erabor. Sorin married Zain and Rose’s little daughter Annabelle and their two children live in Erabor to this day. Princess Thana could not sit still and went to live in the Ironhills with her younger brother Thane. Thane died in a battle a few years ago but he had lived a long and fulfilling life. Thana never married. Thea and Shayne married and live in Erabor to this day. Sora could never part from her parents and when they died, she became a traveling writer, writing stories of her parents and family. Thorin and Sara lived till their grey years until they both died peacefully in bed together. Sora was the one who found them, the two wrapped in each other’s arms in peaceful sleep.”

When Bilbo did not continue, Frodo seemed satisfied that it was the end and with a huge grin, clapped before running off to find a new occupation now that the story was over. Bilbo sat in silence for a while, thinking with a fond smile back to the letter he had received from Sora just a year prior telling him of Thorin and Sara’s passing. He knew without a doubt that the two were happily dancing together on the White Shores.

Suddenly there was a knock at the door and Bilbo got up to answer it. There stood a young mailboy with a package in his hands. “Sorry Mr. Baggins, but this package arrived for you.”

Bilbo nodded and closed the door as he ripped the paper and stared at the rough, worn leather book. Flipping to the first page, he felt tears spring to his eyes.

Dear Bilbo,

I know that out of all of the company, you will be the one who will still be alive by the time we are gone. You and Gandalf. Don’t ask me how I know this, it’s a gift. Do what you think is right Bilbo and we will see each other again soon in a happier place.

With much love,

Sara and Thorin Oakenshield.

Slowly turning to each page, Bilbo smiled as he remembered when and where Sara drew each of the sketches until he came to the last page and he stared wide eyed. Wedged in the back page of the notebook was a small sketch… of him! Of his younger self! He smiled as he tucked the picture into his coat before finding a safe place to put the notebook on his shelf.

Little did he know that two figures stood at the edge of the White Shores, watching with smiles on their faces as they watched over Bilbo and Frodo from above.

AAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!! IT"S DONE!!!! I"M CRYING!!!!! Sorry that this chapter was so long but I got carried away in the fluff and angst:) Love ya'll and I hope you enjoyed!

[buckysforeverprincess]

Your Hardest Goodbye -Pt 5

Bucky Barnes x Reader, Steve Rogers X Reader

Words: 2338

Warnings: Major character death, angst

A/N: This is the end. I can’t say much or it will give it away...

5 years later…

You were seated on a bench in the park, watching your four-year-old play with a friend from preschool. Noah was running around happily giving chase to the boy, long blond hair flowing behind him as he ran. He was his father's clone but refused to cut his hair when asked; opting for the longer locks. Noah said he didn't want to be like them, conformists. Even used the word in the right context. At four, he was reading books and words most adults shy away from, but not him. He was a wealth of information and wouldn't miss an opportunity to get on his soapbox and tell you the ways of the world. Yeah, he was his father's son.

It was times like these you cherished. When the only thing Noah Rogers wanted to do was run around and play, making friends and building forts. That's what four-year-olds should be doing. Not listening to NPR or watching CNN, like his father.

You were so lost in thought, you hadn't noticed someone sit down next to you.

“Mom!” The seven-year-old belts out.

You turn to look at the mini Bucky and open your arms wide for a hug. “Hey, baby!” Bella moves into your arms. “Where's your dad?” You asked as she broke the hug. She had been with her father, so his absence was a little concerning.

“He's over there getting ice cream!” She points over to the far side of the park, and you see the brunette standing a vendor’s cart handing over money for the cool treat.  

It didn't take long for him to join you guys, waking at a hurried pace so the ice cream wouldn't melt. “Noah!” Bucky yelled trying to get the attention of the little boy. He held up the deliciousness and Noah needed no coercion to give up playing for a few minutes to eat his snack.

You watched as Noah walked up to Bucky and a few words were exchanged, before the young boy called his friend over and was also offered one of the ice creams in hand. Without hesitation the boy gladly accepted, thanking Bucky before the two boys walked to another park bench and sat next to his friend’s mother, enjoying their ice cream.  

“How's my beautiful girl?” Bucky says when he walks up, holding out another ice cream to Bella.

“Dad…you just saw me!” The girl laughs at her father, but he's not really looking at her.

“Of course, I just saw you…I was talking about your mother.” Bucky looks at you with a sultry look, before he bends down and places a kiss to your lips.

“Yuck, you had onions!” You wiped your lips, and Bucky laughs at your observational skills.

“I had onion rings, and I wasn't the only one!”

He points at your daughter, who is happily eating her ice cream and not paying any attention to the adults around her. Yeah, of course she did. Neither one of your children take after you in looks or personality, and especially not food choices. Everything about them screams Bucky and Steve. You were praying the one you were currently holding in your arms would take after you.

Bucky looks down at the sleeping baby and gives him a fond smile. “You need me to take him?” He always wanted a chance to hold and bond with him. Bucky wanted every opportunity he missed with Bella, opting to stay as close as he could to you within reason.  

“No, he's good. Been sleeping for a while. I expect he'll wake up soon and need to be fed. We should probably get going.”

Bucky nodded and agreed, “I'll get Noah and then we'll head home. Bella, help mommy pack up please.”

Bella had just finished her treat and took out a wet wipe, cleaning her hands before packing up the few items on the bench. She even wiped down Noah, when the little boy came bouncing over after saying his goodbyes to his friend.

Bucky helped you place Lucas into the stroller, strapping in the three-month-old securely and began making the trek back home. Bella grabbed the diaper bag and Noah took Bucky's hand as the four of you walked and talked about the events of the day.  

It had taken a long time to get to this point after the fiasco that was your wedding day. You didn't want to see either man ever again, but you knew that wouldn't be a possibility. Bucky was Bella's biological father…they deserved to know each other.

And it worked out really. Bucky gave you the space you needed at first, but slowly began working at your heartstrings, and breaking down the brick wall you built around your heart. It didn't happen overnight, and you can't pinpoint exactly when it did, but you found yourself falling for the man who was your first love all over again.  

Bucky had to work for it though. You had been hurt twice over and trusting him wasn't an easy task. It wasn't until Noah was born that you let him in, removing only a single brick of the wall you had built. He was there for you in the delivery room, helping you push out the stubborn little Rogers baby, ushering words of encouragement and letting you almost crush his hand from the intense pain that little Noah Grant had put you through. Once he came into this world, Bucky stayed by your side, watching over you as you held the baby boy in your arms, already head over heels in love with the precious little angel.

Not only was he great with Noah, but he stepped up to the plate and devoted himself to Bella like he wished he could have from the beginning. That relationship started out small, with visits at his mom’s house when she was there during the week. Bucky didn't push you to tell her, just let things progress naturally, and within six months the two of them were thick as thieves. Bella was too young to realize having two dads wasn't normal, but she never questioned it and accepted that Bucky was daddy and Steve papa. It was a win for everyone, leaving neither man slighted.

You continued your walk towards home, the older two getting antsy the closer you got. Turning the corner, you could see the house a few driveways down, thankful you didn't have to go too much farther. Nothing seemed odd to you, so you didn't bother looking for anything out of the norm.

Bucky taps you on the shoulder, pulling your attention towards him and points in the direction of the driveway. “What's he doing here?” Immediately you recognized the vacant car and began to ponder the question. 

“Hmmm, guess we'll find out?” Trying to remain neutral even though you were wondering the same exact thing. Bucky just shook his head and gave you an eye roll, dismissing your nonchalance.

Bella was the first to notice as she got closer to the house, running in excitement when she saw Steve's car. “Papa!” She yelled and took off for the door.

Noah was all smiles too, breaking free from Bucky's grip hopping to the entrance in search of his father. You laughed as the kids disappeared, leaving you and Bucky to bring Lucas and the stroller inside.  

Walking into the house the noise level was excruciating; the two kids at the kitchen counter excitedly rummaging through a bag of goodies Steve had brought back with him. Holding onto Lucas, you walked into the kitchen eying the man who had both of your children's attentions.

“What?” Steve looks at you like a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

“Don't what me Mr. Rogers…what are you doing here?” There's no heat in your voice, just a question about why he was here and not where he was supposed to be.

“What, can't I come home and be with my family?” He was now making his way over to you. “I missed you Mrs. Rogers.” Steve places a kiss on your lips, and damn if you didn't miss that while he was gone away.

“Excuse me? I believe that's Rogers-Barnes, or do we have to go through that again?!” Bucky says from behind you as he enters the madness in the kitchen.

“Aww... are you mad Barnes that I left you out again?” Steve's tone is playful, and Bucky knows he's teasing.

“Please stop with the testosterone fest!” You commented, handing over Lucas to Steve’s open arms.  

Steve takes the baby and places a kiss to his little head. He was absolutely smitten over the child and had missed him over the past week he was away on business. “I've missed you sweet Lucas.”

There had been agreement between the three of you, biology wouldn't matter. Steve had openly admitted he knew Lucas Dayton Rogers-Barnes wasn't his son by blood, but he didn't care. The three of you were all in this together.  

Steve had worked just as hard as Bucky to win you back. He gave you three days after the disaster of the wedding to be alone and sort out your thoughts. On day four he entered your shared apartment and begged for forgiveness. It wasn't immediately given, citing all the reasons why he shouldn't have felt that way in the first place. Steve promised he'd do anything to fix things, but you told him you needed time.  

The man never wavered and did exactly what you asked. Steve put everything he had into winning you back, even when Bucky admitted his feelings were just as strong for you as they ever had been. However, Steve didn't give up. Even deciding they should work together and not make you choose either one of them; but instead love them both.  

Being part of a triad had its struggles. Even though they were used to living out of each other's pockets, it still took time to adjust. That was never more obvious when Steve had asked you to marry him all over again, looking to Bucky in confusion.  

It was both of their ideas, they said; wanting to make sure you were taken care of in case something ever happened, Steve having the better job and benefits. You hesitantly agreed but could feel the tension from Bucky. However, with time and the planning of the wedding it was all worth it in the end.  

Looking around at your family in the kitchen, everything was complete. Not one person was left out, and everyone was completely happy. You closed your eyes at the scene playing out in your kitchen. Hoping that this time it would last. 

“Honey, you ok?” Your husband approached your kneeling form, tears running down your cheeks.

“Um-yeah, can I have just a few more minutes?”

Jefferson gave you a soft nod. “Of course,...take your time.” He turned and walked back over to the bench joining Bella and Noah sitting quietly waiting for you to finish up.  

You look back at the headstones with tears in your eyes. “I wish that was the story I could tell our children.” You say through the flowing tears. “Not a day goes by that I don't miss you both...even after five years. I wish you both could have met them...they should have been able to meet you…”  

The tears were a full-blown river now, the pain and emotion too great. “It's been five years...and it still hurts me like it was yesterday, but I know you're in a better place, looking out for one another. Jefferson-uh...Jefferson takes very good care of us, and both kids adore him. I love him so much, but I still miss you...always.”

You pulled out the white roses you had bought on your way to the cemetery, putting six on Steve's grave and the other six on Bucky's. This day didn't get any better with each passing year. You kissed your fingers and touched each headstone. “I'm so sorry.” You whispered, standing up from the ground and walking back over to your family.

Jefferson stood up from the bench as you made your way over to him and the children. He walks over and immediately takes his hand and wipes the tears from your eyes before wrapping his arms around you. “You're so amazing.” The brunette breaks the hug and places a soft kiss to your forehead.

“I'm ready to go now.” You gave him your best forced smile, but the man knew it was fake.

“Let's head out guys. We'll be back next year.” Jefferson says to the kids still seated on the bench.  

The kids make their way over; Bella taking his hand, Noah grabbing yours. The four of you make your way to your car and prepare to leave this place one more time and come back again next year.

Five years ago, you were supposed to marry Steve. Five years ago, he broke your heart for the second time in your life. Five years ago, you left Steve and Bucky in the church, hating them both for breaking you. Five years ago, they left the church and made their way to a bar. Five years ago, you received a knock at the door that would forever change your life. Five years ago, Steve got behind the wheel of his car-Bucky in the passenger seat, driving too fast around a curve and crashing head on into a semi killing both men on impact. Five years ago, you lost yourself regretting the words you spewed out in a moment of anger. Five years ago, you wanted to die.

This day will never get any easier, no matter how much time goes on; eased only by the faces of Bella and Noah, the exact clones of their fathers. You take a look back in the direction of the two graves one last time. You let out a deep breath and swallow hard. Things won't get any easier, ever. This will always be your hardest goodbye. 

End

[maladaptive-ninja-returns]

Blame It on Your Beats (8)

Chapter Content: Fluff, mushy song.

Summary: A brush with the underworld leads you on a run, away from what was supposedly your normal life, with Bucky Barnes. You two do not seem to be in sync as Bucky tries to keep you alive, trying your best not to kill each other. Or that’s what you think you are doing.

Series: contains smut, adult content in there somewhere in the future chapters so please look at the chapter content and warnings before you proceed.

Chapter Warnings: none.

A/N: This series is written for @littledarlinhavefaithinme ‘s MK Writing Challenge. Thank you so much for hosting. I am having a lot of fun with the prompts. But I am clearly behind schedule. Eep! Thanks for being so patient!

Tags for this fic are open

MASTERLIST

“Babe.”

“Hmm?”

“What about them? Do they look like they're a thing?”

Yukio turned into the direction Sonic was staring in, taking in your figure dressed in pink shorts and a floral halter top, sitting on the rock by the shore with Bucky, who was dressed in a red Hawaii shirt and black lounge pants. Your hands were busy scribbling something on a similar notepad Yukio had seen you work with yesterday.

“-I don't…” she heard you saying, watching you scrunch your nose at your partner with an offended gasp.

“Y/N,” Bucky stated with such a determined tone, “you were snoring last night.”

“Oh yeah? Well, so were you. And don't get me started on your stomach growls, hon,” you responded, huffing and going back to the pages in your lap. “I told you to go have your dinner but no! Why listen to me? Let's keep the whales awake at night!” you practically sang, swinging your head to add the sarcastic effect.

“Oh, I did bring early breakfast,” he added, bringing forward the tray of oysters into his lap, making your features turn a shade paler with a painful ache.

“No,” you whispered, closing your eyes in defeat and inching away from Bucky, “Bucky, no.”

“What? They are delicious!” He stated, opening one with a small knife he took out of his pants, making you squirm visibly as you inched away a little more and he shifted towards you to show you the glossy, mushy insides as he moaned about how delicious they looked.

You whimpered as he scooped out the insides and gulped them down in one go, forcing you to get up and walk away from him when he wanted you to try one.

“Just try one, doll. You'll love it!”

“Get that sea blob away from me!”

A few seconds later, it is Bucky walking away from you as you had your right arm extended in his direction, a giant furry brown spider sitting on the back of your palm.

“But look at how cute he is! Bucky, come on, it's just a spider.”

“No, it's not cute! Nothing about this monster is cute. Get that thing away from me! Y/N, I swear on all the songs you love-”

Your shriek filled the air swirling from the sea around you as Bucky picked you up and kept a strong hold around your waist as he bent you sideways keeping your arms away from him all the while telling you to ‘shake that crawler away’ while you chortled, your face turning red from the gut aching laughter at the assassin's actions on seeing the spider.

Yukio turned back to her girl. “Aww! They sure look cute together!”

“Mnh, I'm not convinced,” Sonic muttered, entwining her fingers in Yukio's.

Bucky had kept his early morning busy when he had reluctantly left your peaceful, snoring side to contact Stark, fill him in about your progress, do a recon of the hotel’s estate and know about the whereabouts of the man who had threatened to kill you.

“His name is Dexter Ian Christenson. Ex seal. Used to be a shadow hunter for the military’s gory operations once. This guy is as sane as the American Psycho according to the last evaluation the force did before he was compelled to take early retirement. He hasn’t been seen since the incident. Almost like the guy just ghosted. But Friday did pick up the vehicle he had been using the night before through the street cams. A rental under one of Eton’s shadow companies. Has been sitting at the same spot since that man dirtied my facility. He is either gone underground or is searching for the OWL that Y/N so blatantly took away from right under his nose. You know what this means, Barnes.”

Of course, he knew what that meant. If Dexter was as balanced as Tony was painting him in his head, you had a target on your head the moment he had set his eyes on you. Bucky was not ruling out the possibility of him tracking you down in search for the OWL. But what ticked him the wrong way was the conversation you and Dexter had when you were trapped in the lab, his words still crisp inside Bucky’s mind from what all he had heard over the comms. That man had been playing with you and if Bucky had read him right, he would have been elated that you got away with his trophy, making him savour the chase before he hunted you down for his pleasure. The mere thought of him in your vicinity had been enough to snap the firewood into two in his flesh hand when he, Jamal’s husband Ryan and Yukio had offered to help Meera with the evening’s bonfire preparation.

“I will never forgive you for this,” you muttered under your breath.

“It’s just one night,” Bucky retorted, straightening his silver striped tie over the blue sheen shirt you gifted him before buttoning the jacket on his suit.

“And that is one entire anomaly waiting to be unfolded,” you announced, pointing at the pages on the bed, “but you’d rather take me to this stupid evening where I know no one and everyone who knows me probably thinks I’m insane.”

You cursed at the satin blue ribbon coming and going out of everywhere from your front to your back, clearly not a riddle you were happy to be wound up in.

“Come here,” he sighed, taking the ends of the ribbons from your hands and pressing them in his mouth as he loosened the complex mess you had created over the gown. His light touch worked around you to create a symmetrical satin web, before turning you around to tie it up in a nice bow at the back.

You admitted to yourself to be quite impressed by his work, at the same time wondering who else- and how many ‘elses’- he had worked this art on.

“You cannot just lock yourself up in the room like this. You’ve been sitting here for almost the entire day, Y/N. Take a break from the puzzle solving, would you? Enjoy a little.”

You took in one quick breath to calm your nerves that were worked up at the simple graze of his fingers on your bare back.

“I know you think I don’t know much about you, Bucky, but one week is enough to read into what any Avenger likes or dislikes. So, don’t play the ‘loosen up a little’ act with me,” you glared at his reflection in the mirror, catching his brazen blue off guard.

“I may be socially awkward but I’m not dumb,” you added, making Bucky take a mental note to not give away any weakness in front of you that you might use to torture him later. The spider had been enough for the next six months.

But try as you may, he was never going to admit that he wanted to keep you close, in a crowd, where there were low chances of Dexter coming for your head on.

“You’re right,” he confessed, “I’m not much of a people’s person either. But, I’d rather bear the crowd outside than you sulking at the pages, cursing whatever ancient ruler came up with the ways to encrypt their love letters for their better half.”

You were wounded by the open attack for a moment but suddenly shut your mouth at another thought. “You know, a love letter is a good theory, maybe I could find a method to-”

“Get out of the room before I burn down every piece of paper in here.”

Bucky’s eyes didn’t falter with the statement and as much as you wanted to spew that he wouldn’t burn a thousand-year-old manuscript, the warning in his eyes made move towards the door.

“Fine,” your words quaked as your back hit the wall instead of going out the open door, “but just so you know, I’m a very lousy dance partner.”

So much for the questionable feelings, I had begun to have last night, you thought to yourself.

How much of it was questionable and how much of you was lousy, you were about to find out tonight.

“No.”

“Yes! It’s a tradition!”

You looked at Louise with as much of respectful disapproval you could manage before she effortlessly shoved your whole being smack into Bucky’s towering form.

“Come on, now,” she shouted for everyone to hear, “all the couples dance around the bonfire to mark the beginning of the local new year and kiss each other to close the vows you take for the new beginning.”

“Yeah,” Sonic quipped, a smirk on her face, “nothing says ‘I love you’ better than dancing to some blood ritual for the island nation’s inhabitants.”

See! She is clearly the sensible one. And Meera! Where. Is. Meera?

“As much as I’d love to correct my wife,” Meera spoke from the bar, putting down her bourbon to come and take her beloved’s hand, “this one tradition is really sacred and goes back ages. It’d be really lovely if all you would join us.”

Well, there goes the sensible one, clearly smitten under the moon.

The soft music on the piano started. Libet’s delay.

“Is there anything you’re good at?” Bucky surmised with a smirk, clearly enjoying the pissed look on your features.

It would’ve felt nice to come back with all the things you were brilliant at but the mental exhaustion from overworking on cracking the ancient codes had taken a toll over you. So, without a word, you started to head towards the bar before Bucky’s hand caught you.

“Wai-Wait,” he pleaded, positioning you back in front of him, “sorry. Just...let me guide you.”

He patiently waited with his hand open for yours.

With the silent ocean breeze teasing your nerve ends, making you want to curl up in a familiar warmth somewhere beyond all that came with a deadline and a death threat, you glided your palm into his metal, while his flesh hand went across your waist, drawing you closer.

Your body was already beginning to absorb the glow he was emanating, relaxing you with a welcoming surprise.

“Just work your sway with mine,” his pink lips covered in between the dense stubble spoke near you, his scent engulfing you from everywhere.

You synchronised your footwork with his, the sway of your hips at the movement of his feet, the push of his flesh hand to twirl you, the pull of his metal to dip you as he came down from the dazed high, breathing in your form like his personal ecstasy. Every breath in his movement gradually trickled over you, wiping off the dark thoughts, taking away the tightness of your worked up muscles, nullifying the threat that lingered somewhere out there.

How could his presence do this to you?

How could someone make you feel so much at peace with yourself?

And like a high note to mark the end, the music stopped and a song of windchimes filled the air, Meera declaring it as the time to close your vows.

Your reluctant yet curious gaze looked at your partner for further guidance.

The thought was one delicious invitation; one beautiful wave of desire passing through your chest to cut the distance between the two of you and finally answer the question of what he would taste like.

His personal oceans were dark with the same wonderful temptation and you had no idea how much restraint it took on his part to not completely crash on to you. Instead, he planted his inquisitive lips on your cheeks, igniting the latent seabeds inside you like neon blood running through every flora and fauna lighting up the entire undiscovered ocean.

And just like that, the daze lifted up with the sudden explosion of hip-hop reverberating through the speakers around the bonfire; Zemo the redhead doing the honours of taking over as the DJ for the night.

Needless to say, I keep her in check

She was all bad-bad, nevertheless (yeah)

It truly was a shock for Bucky to watch you bop your head at the new tune, only later realising it was more of wonderment to see you glow under the fire lamps- the golden hues doing no justice to the subtle stare you were giving him- and sway your head like that.

Callin' it quits now, baby, I'm a wreck (wreck)

Crash at my place, baby, you're a wreck (wreck)

Your heated body let go of the moderation, letting the tantalising feeling still on your cheeks work through your mind, swirling at the notes you were used to.

Needless to say, I keep her in check

She was all bad-bad, nevertheless

Callin' it quits now, baby, I'm a wreck

Crash at my place, baby, you're a wreck

You took him by his hands, making Bucky raise his hands and sway to the rhythm like you were showing him.

Thinkin' in a bad way, losin' your grip

Screamin' at my face, baby don't trip

Someone took a big L, don't know how that felt

Lookin' at you sideways, party on tilt

You were howling, completely letting the beats take over your senses, everything a sparkling blur. Everything except the stunning blue staring at you through the crinkled corners.

Ooh-ooh, some things you just can't refuse

She wanna ride me like a cruise and I'm not tryna lose

Bucky had no idea of his own happiness was bursting through his heart on watching you like this, his curious and appalled eyes never leaving your jumping figure.

Then you're left in the dust unless I stuck by ya

You're a sunflower, I think your love would be too much

Or you'll be left in the dust, unless I stuck by ya

You're the sunflower, you're the sunflower

“I told you I’m a lousy dance partner! I never said I was bad at dancing on my own.”

Your giggles filled the air while the cool sand under your feet made you shiver as you walked down the shore.

Bucky was quick to cover you up in his suit jacket as a laugh found its way out of him.

“Haha. For a second there I thought you were possessed or something,” he mentioned before bursting into giggles at his own joke.

“Hah!” you mocked a laugh back.

“Okay, I admit. I never saw you as someone with such...moves,” Bucky muttered, shrugging his shoulders.

“Yeah. The whole not knowing how to swim thing really threw you off balance, didn’t it, darling?”

Bucky licked his lips and smiled at you.

“You really surprise me, you know. In a good way,” he sighed, his hands in his pocket, his arms casually colliding into yours as you swayed with the lingering effects of the music and just a tiny bit of alcohol.

“Yeah?” you questioned his statement, “even after I nearly took you down yesterday in my anger right on this beach somewhere?”

Bucky’s uncontrollable laughter boomed around you, filling you up with the most pleasant heat in your cheeks on watching him like this.

“Oh yeah, right. You-” he tried to dam his laughter now and then but failed miserably- “you...yeah you definitely took me down. It scared the hell out of me. My life definitely flashed before my eyes. What? I swear on...on...umm...yes! I swear on that constellation I was scared.”

You poked him with your elbow. “Don’t destroy my constellation, you dweeb!”

“Aw, doll,” he enunciated, tilting his head in sympathy, “for all we know that constellation is dead already. Your love letters would be older than this.”

You scoffed before rerunning that thought inside your head, your pace slowing down a little.

“I’m sure I’m outliving them by some margin right now,” he added, walking ahead before realising you were not beside him.

Bucky turned around and found you with a lost expression hovering over your face. “Y/N?” he called out your name but all he got was a silent stare that passed through him into some invisible void.

“Call Tony,” you announced to him with a whisper, “now.”

Within seconds Tony was on the other end, wondering what trouble you two were running into.

“The order of the constellation they worshipped,” was all you said into the phone. And like some unspoken arrangement, Bucky heard Tony call Friday to mark the constellation in the sky during the time OWL was created and asked her to mark the translations you had done for him to be lined in that order.

Two minutes of killing silence later, you hear Tony give out a curse.

“What? Did it work? Tony! Did it work?” your trembling voice called out in urgency to him.

“Y/N,” Tony announced, “do you realise you just discovered a new element made by the old-timey folks?”

The amount of air you wanted to take in could not fit into your lungs as your wide eyes locked with Bucky before jumping up in muted joy.

“Good work, kiddo. Banner will love this.”

For the life of you, you could not find it in yourself to stay on your feet as Bucky got infected by your goofy smile before you finally landed in his arms.

“See!” you giggled close to his face as he chucked you up into the air, “I am good at stuff. This time you helped but I am good at stuff!”

Bucky chortled at your words dripping in victory as he swung you around a bit recklessly, making you scream and wrap your arms around his neck in a secure lock.

And to catch your breaths, your foreheads came together to rest in a symphony, your thumping chests marring the air with the heat they were radiating, your wide grins slowly melting into hints of a smile as the heaviness of this tantalization struck your chords.

You took the liberty to move your fingers at the back of Bucky’s neck through his hair while your parting forehead made you bring your lips forward to his in the heat of the moon grazing his glistening pale skin in contrast to his stubble and those heavily painted lips in the colours of morbid curiosity.

Suddenly the music started over again in the lawn somewhere in the background unbeknown to the two lost souls that were you and Bucky.

I know you're scared of the unknown (-known)

You don't wanna be alone (alone)

I know I always come and go (and go)

But it's out of my control

You wanted a confirmation from him before you could allow yourself to lose your existence in his silver ocean that was anything if not inviting you inside the deep waters.

And you'll be left in the dust, unless I stuck by ya

You're a sunflower, I think your love would be too much

Bucky’s thoughts were a mess as soon as your eyes picked on his pulsating lips. The caged enchanted essence driving itself through the roof at the first whiff of your hot nerves vaporizing your delicious scent. And just as you asked him without any words, he tightened his grip on you, driving your already close body closer to him before meeting your lips.

Or you'll be left in the dust, unless I stuck by ya

You're the sunflower, you're the sunflower, yeah

The supple clash sent stars all through your body that were exploding as they passed every layer of you.

You and Bucky closed your eyes and got lost in the big bang of your making at the edge of the ocean.

Continued here

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[gyrlversion]

Parents confront Champagne Charlie banker who mowed down son

The parents of a Royal Navy recruit whose body was dragged more than 100 yards after he was run over told the banker who drove into him that they will never forgive him before he walked free from court. 

Wayne Davies, 31, struck James ‘Hodge’ Edwards in his Audi in a 4am collision in Stockport in March 2017, dragging his body 105 yards. 

Moments before he was given a suspended prison sentence, Mr Edward’s devastated parents, Glyn and Jane, confronted Davies in court, telling him, ‘We will never forgive you’.  

The parents of a Royal Navy recruit whose body was dragged more than 100 yards after he was run over have told the banker who drove into him that they will never forgive him before he walked free from court. Above: Jane and Glyn Edwards outside Minshull Street Crown Court

After he was spared prison Mr and Mrs Edwards admitted they were ‘gutted’ he hadn’t been jailed. 

Davies, known as regarded ‘champagne Charlie’, claimed he thought he’d hit a bin bag. 

The court heard Davies was driving home at 4am in his Audi A5 Quattro with a woman he had met in Manchester city centre when he struck James ‘Hodge’.

Edwards, 22, who was lying in the middle of road after a night out of his own.

Mr Edwards suffered fatal injuries when he was hit and then dragged for 105 yards under the Audi. His horrified girlfriend witnessed the tragic incident.

Davies drove away and later told police he thought he had hit a bin bag.  

Before being sentenced, his victim’s mother Jane Edwards, 50, a former practice nurse, stood in the witness box and looked over at the defendant as she delivered a withering attack.

‘It’s every mother’s worse nightmare to lose a child and this nightmare has happened to me.

‘A part of me has died and I can never get this back,’ she told the hearing, describing her son as as ‘kind considerate and loving son loved by all with a beautiful smile’.

Wayne Davies, 31, struck James ‘Hodge’ Edwards in his Audi in a 4am collision in Stockport in March 2017, dragging his body 105 yards

His smile was ‘something [I] will never see again because of the selfish actions of one person’, Mrs Edwards said.

She described how the death had affected her marriage and said she still suffered ‘harrowing thoughts’ of her son being dragged under Davies’ car.

Mrs Edwards said she was was ‘incensed’ with Davies, who had ‘shown no remorse for what he’s done and has a total disregard for human life’ – and was more interested in ‘protecting himself’.

Davies had even ‘tried to antagonise’ by drinking in a pub in Poynton where the wake had been held, showing ‘disregard and disrespect’, said Mrs Edwards.

The defendant had even ‘stared [her] out’ at a supermarket when they bumped into each other, the court heard.

Despite being charged over the death, Davies had ‘continued to parade his social life’ through his girlfriend’s social media account with photos from various locations looking like he doesn’t have a care in the world’, she said.

Looking at the defendant, she said her son may have lived if the defendant had stopped and went on: ‘I will never forgive you Wayne Davies for what you have done to me and my family.’

Mr Edwards’s father, a retired police officer, also slammed the ‘selfish, arrogant, criminal actions’ of Davies, adding that the though of the defendant driving home for a ‘one night stand’ still ‘repulses’ him.

Looking at the dock, he added: ‘I will never forgive you Wayne Davies, never.’

Officers tracked him down by following a trail of coolant from the damaged radiator to his front door.

Police found a wrap of cocaine hidden in his phone. For two years, Davies denied his driving was careless.

But on the eve of a re-trial Davies, of Lyndhurst Avenue, Stockport, admitted causing death by careless driving and possessing class A drugs.

The tragedy, in March 2017, devastated the Edwards family.

Judge John Potter told Davies: ‘Had your driving that night not fallen below the standards of a reasonable and competent driver the death of James Edwards may have been avoided.’

He had seen ‘the obstruction’ in the road and decided to drive over it at a speed of between 20mph and 25mph, dragging Mr Edward’s body 105 yards down the road before driving away, the judge said.

Davies ‘disgracefully’ made no attempt to investigate the obstruction, although there was evidence he had stopped later to examine damage to his Audi, said Judge Potter.

Mr Edwards suffered fatal injuries when he was hit and then dragged for 105 under the Audi

Mr Edwards was 6ft tall and weighed 13st 9lbs. Mr Edwards, known as ‘Hodge’, had been out celebrating his imminent posting to the Navy the night he was killed.

He had been drinking and was lying down on a railway bridge on Bramhall Moor Lane in Hazel Grove, Stockport, when he was hit.

He had been involved in an argument with his girlfriend, who went home but then returned to look for him in her Mini. She saw the moment he was hit by Davies.

Davies showed no emotion in the dock as he was handed a 10-month suspended prison sentence and ordered to carry out 200 hours of unpaid work.

He was made the subject of an electronically-monitored curfew for four months and banned from driving four four years.

The defendant had been out in bars in Manchester including Panacea, The Alchemist and Neighbourhood on the night of the crash. 

During the night he was said to have met a woman, prosecutor Rob Hall told the court.

Crash investigators followed the coolant which leaked from the Audi’s damaged radiator.

The trail led them to the defendant’s home, but not before it went on a ‘loop’ of a nearby housing estate, the court heard.

The emergency services were on the scene ‘within minutes’ but Mr Edwards died in hospital due to ‘multiple injuries’.

After his arrest, Mr Davies denied any knowledge of the crash, but later he said he thought he had hit a bin bag or a twig.

Ben Smitten, defending, said his client was driving at 22mph on the correct side of the road.

‘Mr Davies accepts by his plea his part in this tragic episode,’ said Mr Smitten, who added his client had been ‘remorseful’ to probation officers and apologised ‘for his part in the episode through me’. 

Davies  has dated Love Island contestant Rosie Williams (pictured together)

After the hearing, Mr and Mrs Edwards said they were ‘gutted’ Davies had not been jailed, but said it was not a lenient sentence.

‘He deserved a prison sentence, but I can understand the judge,’ said Mr Edwards.

In a victim impact statement read to the court, Jane Edwards said: ‘No parent should ever had to write a victim impact statement for their child.

‘No mother should have to organise the funeral of their child or bury their child.

‘It’s the most horrendous thing that can happen to any mother.’ 

She said she had spoken to her son for the last time the previous evening and that the next time she saw him he was in the resuscitation department of Stepping Hill Hospital.

On the way to hospital, she and her husband came across the scene of the accident by chance, not realising it was the location their son had been hit.

They were escorted on a blue light run for the rest of the journey to the hospital, the court heard.

‘I knew then that something was badly wrong,’ Mrs Edwards said. ‘All I wanted to do was to see my son and to know what had happened and know what his injuries were, and to see him and talk to him.’

It was only at the hospital the parents learned their son had suffered significant injuries.

When Mrs Edwards saw her son, his eyes were ‘glazed’ and his sheets were blood-stained.

After the hearing, Mr and Mrs Edwards said they were ‘gutted’ Davies had not been jailed, but said it was not a lenient sentence

‘It’s something no-one should have to see never mind a mother looking at her son.

‘All a mother wants to do is to hold their child,’ she said.

Mrs Edwards said this was the moment her heart ‘physically shattered’.

The court heard that the parents were not allowed to touch their son, except to hold his hand, because he was effectively a crime scene.

Now, when she closes her eyes, she says she can see her son’s eyes as they were that night, while knowing the pain he must have felt ‘makes me cry’.

‘My son’s death has totally shattered my life and that of my family,’ she said.

She sometimes sprayed his favourite aftershave on her so she could recall his scent, the court heard.

Her son had just been accepted into the Royal Navy and ‘I was so proud of him’.

‘All I have left of my son is my memories of him and a gravestone to look

at,’ she wrote. She said the driver has been ‘selfish and arrogant’.

‘I will never forgive him or forgive his actions,’ she said. 

The post Parents confront Champagne Charlie banker who mowed down son appeared first on Gyrlversion.

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[argorpg-blog]

CONGRATULATIONS and welcome to the crew of the Argo II, IZZIE! The Gods have spoken: welcome aboard AGAPI, known as JOSEFINA ROMERO, with a faceclaim of KELSEY MERRITT. Please take a look at our checklist, and send in your account in the next 24 hours.

ADMIN NOTES: Agapi had a lot of competition, which made choosing a suitable character near impossible. We went back and forth between the apps, but eventually, Izzie, you won us over with your portrayal of Agapi. Josefine is passionate, burdened, and you really managed to capture her free spirit. We really loved the little sprinkles of history throughout your application, and you had so many little one-liners that just blew us away (Don’t you remember, daughter of love? You once wanted a life like this, too.) Well done!

NAME/ALIAS: Izzie

AGE, TIMEZONE, PRONOUNS: 22, PST, she/hers

ACTIVITY & EXTRAS: Currently juggling an internship and freelancing, but I’ll be able to post replies at least once or twice a week. Ideally, I’d get on around every other day. I’ll be pretty active OOC for anything else, and I’ll be around most of the time for any plotting and chatting! So I guess around a 7/10 for activity.

IN CHARACTER

DESIRED SKELETON: Agapi

CHARACTER NAME: Josefina Magdalena Romero

AGE & GENDER: 271 ( immortally 22 ) & cis female

FACECLAIM: Kelsey Merritt, Nadine Lustre, Liza Soberano

BIOGRAPHY:

I. Trinidad Romero is trouble, so the rumors go, the wildest of the mayor’s three daughters. Mothers attempt to keep their sons from falling for her, and wives hold their husbands closer as if it would be her fault if she is pursued, but she has no need of barrio men when she loves a god.

Not that she knows he is one.

All she knows is that stories of lands beyond Ilocos fall from his lips, and that he does not care she is bold and defiant and careless. That it does not matter to him she does not want to run a house and bear responsibility like her mother does and her sisters will. She loves him because he lets her be who she is, and she loves him even when he leaves, abandoning her and the baby in her belly to the sharp thorns of scandal.  

II. Death takes Trinidad as her daughter enters the world. Josefina has a nose like her mother’s, and her aunt hopes she will grow just as beautiful but nowhere near as bold. Doña Emelda decides that her niece will not answer for Trinidad’s transgressions, and that she will be raised properly so that her life might turn out better than her mother’s.

Unfortunately for Emelda, Josefina grows to be almost as beautiful and twice as bold. She makes up for it with magnetic charm and easy grace, and she is a clever child with her younger cousins under her thumb while she chases after her older ones. The foundation of her life is a happy one—she learns to sing and to play piano when they can get her to sit still, and she is bursting full of stories no one knows the origin of. As the years pass, she makes many friends and admirers among her peers. She enchants her elders so they forgive her faults just like they did with her mother, and she becomes so loved that they all might forget how she came to be.

III.  Her father first comes to her in a dream.

Or, at least, she thinks it is a dream, for the only God she knows is the one she asks for blessings at dinner, the one she worships every Sunday with a lace veil draped over her bowed head.

But who is to say gods like him, other gods, do not exist? Did not her ancestors believe they walked among deities, that diwata lived in mountains and the moon and girls turned into flowers? They believed until the Spanish told them not to, until conquistadors and priests brought God with them and crushed the tales of old beneath their righteous feet. And the world is wide, much wider than she knows. Who is to say her father is not really who he claims to be?

( And it would make sense her proud, enthralling mother would ensnare a god. There are many stories and falsehoods about the brightest of the Romero sisters, but this dreamworld with its ethereal man and suspension of reality, this is the truth. )

Eros does not visit her often, but she can tell he is proud of her, of how freely she loves though her heart is broken again and again and her world whispers she is sinning. To love without abandon. To love with disregard for consequence. Is that not the essence of who he is?

IV. Ang ganda naman, murmurs the wind like an omen, carrying the thoughts of the townspeople. How pretty she is. How like her mother. How many hearts she will break.

But what about her heart? Is it not a fragile thing, too?

V. She loves a boy whose heart belongs to their country more than to her, who comes to her in fleeting moments when time bids him so. But he does not, will not, root himself to her, even for all her honey-sweet words and tender touches. Even for the power she infuses into all she does for him so he may laugh for her. What good is being a god’s daughter if she cannot enchant him more than the idea of change? Of freedom? How can she when she wishes for the same? They are both fighting losing battles, and her heart breaks when he leaves her, death close at his heels and a false promise on his lips—

She swears not to love again, though she knows this is a falser promise than his.

She loves a girl who she kisses under starlight because day will not let them be anything other than cherished friends. She does not even have to do anything at all to get the girl to look at her, does not have to pull at invisible strings. And she loves her more for it, loves her until she cannot, until the girl is promised to another and Josefina must plaster a fake smile on her face and spit out fake well-wishes. Until they can no longer pretend they live where girls can love girls without fearing danger for their souls and star-crossed lovers are not fated to be forced apart by the end of the story—

She swears not to love again, though she knows sorrow will not stop her heart from bleeding.

A man loves her and she does not love him as much back, feelings fading as stone is worn away by rain until she might no longer love him at all. He plies her with flattery and gifts and grand declarations, but they are not enough for the girl who has loved too much.

For this is what she wonders: Does he love her for who she is or for her father’s blood running through her veins, casting a spell that pulls others into her orbit when she smiles and holds their gaze? Or have the lines blurred, the spell broken, yet he is still enamored all the same? She does not know, but she knows his touch feels more like damnation than salvation, like four walls closing in rather than wide open space. I will have you until the end of time, he says, and it is poetic. Death do us part. But her life is hers and hers alone, and she knows she cannot stay—

She does not love again. She shuts her heart closed to be free.

VII. You ungrateful girl, Emelda hisses as they watch the smitten man leave for the umpteenth time. Josefina hopes it is the last. See, here is a man throwing himself at you, a rich man who would give you all you desire and keep you happy. It’s a good match. You’re lucky he loves you.  

Yet Josefina is not happy. And he cannot give her what she desires, for she wants freedom that he will not give. That his love will not give, and not any love after that because all her loves take too much of her even when she should know better. Love, exhilarating, maddening thing that it is, leaves her both voracious and spent.

But she cannot tell anyone this, for who will listen to reckless, passionate girls who do nothing but disappoint? Who defy all that’s expected of good, virtuous girls? She prays and she prays for someone to hear her, rosary beads smooth under her fingers. It is not God or saints or the Virgin who answer her, but a moon goddess with a bow and a promise: Give up love and you will be free. Give up these earthly ties and you will not be buried in the ground.

( Hearing the call of Artemis and her hunters now, Josefina imagines this is how the rebel she once loved must have felt when he could not keep from reaching for the horizon even when he was held back. )

Her father visits her again, the anger and disappointment etched onto his face matching her aunt’s, but somehow it is worse. Shards of guilt cut at her, but why must she feel guilty for wanting to be happy? You are lucky to love, he tells her. Lucky to be loved. Love is everything you are. A bitter laugh rises in her throat. She should be so lucky if love’s tangled web only ensnares her and another.

Even if she is his daughter, Eros does not care if love brings her joy or leaves her heartbroken, for love is both beautiful and ugly, both fleeting and steadfast. It has the power to uplift and destroy. It is the essence of who he is. And who are you, daughter of love, to dare defy that?

Oh, but she dares. Just as her mother dared to love a man—a god—she was never supposed to, Josefina dares to choose a life she was never meant to have. It breaks her heart to turn her back on her father, but she does.

If this is what she must do to snip this lovespun web, then this is what she will do.

( She hopes her mother is watching her from wherever she is, be it Heaven or the Underworld or elsewhere. Are you, at least, proud of me? )

VIII. The first time she sees snow a smile as bright as day breaks across her face.

Her bird of a heart swoops and soars, freed from its cage of expectation. When she tastes the cool melt of snowflakes on her tongue, she thinks for not the first time since she has become a hunter: This is what it means to be free. Sometimes, she wonders what would have happened if she had not turned her back on all she knew and all she loved. What if she had married that rich man with his beautiful house and beautiful words? She would have been rich, too, but might have grown bored. Perhaps he would have sought a mistress, like so many men she knew did, and torn her heart out in the process. And what if she married a poorer man who offered little but his heart? Would she be happy then, or would she still want for material things and a better life? And what if she grew again not to love a man at all? The secret of it might grow too painful to bear. What if, what if, what if—

She comes to the same conclusion every single time: Different fates, but prisons all the same. Ilocos and heartbreak would be all she knew, but now— the world is so full of wonder love can never give her.

It has not even been a decade since she has taken the oath of Artemis, and perhaps this is why immortality has not weighed on her like some of her sisters. Perhaps this is why it is still so easy for her to scorn love for the poison she believes it is, for the trouble it has brought her more than joy. But even when decades pass and the world changes, she is unwavering. Even when her favorite hunter, Beatriz, falls in love with a boy with a tender heart and skin like mahogany. Her love for this boy might be so valuable a jewel that she would risk Artemis’ wrath for it, but Josefina isn’t convinced it’s worth it.

Or so she tells herself.

Because when she visits them decades later and they are old while she is young, she sees how much they care for each other. How much love is passed between them in the cooking of a meal, a few words, or the entwining of hands. And it hits her like an arrow. This could have been her. This would have been her.

Don’t you remember, daughter of love? You once wanted a life like this, too.

IX. She has seen her country break free from the conqueror’s grasp only to come under the hands of another and another until finally, they have the freedom she sought herself centuries ago. So many lives have touched her soul; so many lives leave this world while she remains. So many wars she’s seen, and so much violence and treachery and vengeance. There is blood on her hands, but she would rather have that than her own ichor spilled onto the weapon of another.

But amidst the suffering and tragedy is good in the world, in how people love each other in so many ways more than the one she took an oath not to, in their laughter and triumph and kindness. It is this good she wants to protect, so when she is called to join this quest, she doesn’t hesitate. She has seen enemies come together to fight before, and she can only hope history repeats itself this time.

( Let us play a game: What is worse, the depth of darkness in humanity or the malicious hunger of a waking Earth goddess? )

FATAL FLAW/DEFINING CHARACTERISTIC:

She loves wholly and passionately without regard for consequence until it is too late. It’s only later that she sees she’s spent too much on herself on someone who does not care as much as they should, or that someone who loved her too much and she did not love as much back sacrificed too much of themselves for a capricious girl whose eye was turned somewhere else. Naturally, neither make for very good post-break-up relationships, but they won’t kill her. Her heart has broken again and again, but it is still beating, and it will still beat until she gives herself into a love that will lead her to death. Love can be fatal if she wants to die for someone she loves, and she would walk through fire for someone she’d give all of herself to. But as a huntress sworn off love, that can’t happen, right?

EXTRAS

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Headcanons:

Knows several languages and dialects, including Tagalog, Spanish, Ilocano, Bicol, Visayan, English, Greek, Latin, Mandarin and Cantonese Chinese, Italian, and French. She’s got a lot of time to learn languages.

Likes singing, dancing, and playing the piano.

Is constantly fascinated by technology. Doesn’t always keep up. Likes playing Animal Crossing. Has to have memes explained to her.

Has an unplaceable accent. Doesn’t really use slang. Probably texts with good grammar and proper capitalization.

She’s always been clever, and she’s been quenching her thirst for knowledge with a variety of subjects: linguistics, politics, the arts, strategy.

When she’s not in battle or hunting, she likes favors comfort and simplicity in her clothing. If we look at trends now, she’s a big fan of culottes. Likes long skirts, flowing dresses, and linen blouses and pants. Detests jeans and tight-fitting dresses. Tends to dress modestly without really making a conscious effort, as this is simply what she knows best and is comfortable with, but doesn’t care about the clothing choices of others. The only items of jewelry she owns are a necklace from her mother and a bracelet from her aunt.

Camp Half-Blood is her second home. Her first home is with Artemis and her fellow hunters, of course, but CHB offers a sense of stability. It’s nice, being around demigods. It makes her understand herself a little better even if she’s gotten centuries to get to know herself. Other than the archery range, her favorite place is the beach. The strawberry fields are a close second.

Personality:

Her impetuous nature has been tempered by time, and she no longer wears her heart on her sleeve like she did before ( or at least, not as much ), instead coming off as lot more composed with a thread of vivacious youth running through her. Endlessly curious and finds how society is always changing fascinating. Things have come so far since she was born, and she’s glad for it.

There’s still some of that passion she was so known for before she took the oath of Artemis, and she’s quick to jump to the defense of her sisters, friends, and those who cannot defend themselves. She would say family, as well, but she’s lost track of her descendants long ago. Hates injustice of any kind. Advocate for fighting your oppressors and the patriarchy.

For the most part, she’s outgoing and amiable, always eager to meet someone new or venture into the unknown, but there seems to be a wall put up between her and others. She’s always afraid to get too close to someone in fear she’ll inevitably lose them, whether because of distance or death, or that she won’t be able to keep from finally falling in love after all these years. You might not notice it at first, as she’s perfected the art of casual friendliness and guileless smiles, but there’s something withdrawn about her. There’s a reason she’s not keen on accepting the help of others aside from her fellow hunters, and it’s not because she’s unappreciative.

In moments she keeps to herself, she grows weary—as if the weight of all the time in the world is too heavy and all she’d like to do is get rid of it. But that comes at too high a cost, so she swallows it down and carries on.

aesthetic: a smooth bow held in capable hands. the rosy glow of sunrise. dark hair tumbling down shoulders like a river. lace embroidery. the sweet taste of ripe mango. words rolling off your tongue like a song. faded pages of worn sheet music. an ache you can’t place, or perhaps are too afraid to.

Plots/Arcs:

I. Not only did she face pressure from her father, but also her family and the society she left behind. If she married, it would be to a man, and even better if it was a rich man. A poor man would only result in disapproval and hardship even with the promise of happiness. Josefina might fall in love as easily as a bird taking flight and as wholly as a person possibly can ( it runs in her blood, after all ), but what’s the point of loving when you aren’t even allowed to love who you want to? In 1769, the year she turned 22, she thought it was easier to just run away from love than dealing with the pressures of it. Her options were either to join a nunnery or join Artemis, and honestly, becoming a hunter with promises of immortality, sisters-in-arms, and endless travel sounded much more enticing than pledging her mortal life to God.

But now, nearly 300 years later, with a much freer world with looser morals, as her aunt, God bless her soul, would have put it, Josefina notices it’s much easier now to love who you want to. There are difficulties all the same, but still not as constricting as she once knew it. This is all to say that, in her opinion, if she wanted to fall in love, this is the century to do it. But she can’t! Because she’s a huntress and pledged not to ever! I would love for her to grapple with that choice she made so many years ago because she thought it was right, and now she’s wondering if she’d been wrong, or she’s only beginning to second-guess herself because of all the time that’s passed. And maybe she could fall in love along the way at the threat of possibly ruining her life and losing the hunters and her immortality. ( She’d really like to not be turned into an animal. )

II. Her first love died when she was 16, executed along with the rest of the rebels during the Silang Rebellion; she learned grief at an early age. This comes into play with her connection with Apatheia, who she treats kindly if only because others rarely do, but still keeps her distance. Maybe eventually, she could close that distance. Could bring herself to ask what’s happened to that boy she loved so long ago, along with everyone else she ever loved or couldn’t bring herself to. Maybe that would bring some closure to her, or maybe it would let loose a river of grief she wouldn’t know how to stop. I’m here for internal turmoil.

III. Here she is, thrown on a boat without one of her sisters in sight. Instead, she has thirteen other demigods for company, and half of them detest each other. Makes for great team-building. It’s been a long time since it’s been like this—she’s pretty much always had the company of her fellow hunters. I think she’d adjust well enough, but maybe this would allow her to question herself more without constantly being around the whole “you never fall in love” thing. Is freeing herself from love really freedom? Should she have fought for both instead? Was she brave for cutting off her father and everything he stood for, or was she really just a coward, running from her problems?

I think it’d also be a good opportunity to make deeper friendships, because while I’m sure she’s friends with other demigods, I don’t think she’s as close to them as she could be because she has her sisters-in-arms and doesn’t really think she needs to go any deeper. ( They’ll all leave her, anyway. ) But I want at least someone to break down that wall she has. Get her to open up, see that people are worth trusting and depending on even if it might not be forever. Maybe even be friends with a Roman.