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on-my-vigilante-sht · 1 year

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Sorry to Meet You

Carlisle Cullen x Reader

Summary: The moral dilemma of the patriarch of the Cullen clan finally meeting his mate after 350 years.

Warnings: Angst, death, blood, accident, surgery, not beta’d, turning, grief

Word Count: 5.8k (sorry, I got a little carried away and I’m getting used to writing one shots again)

Masterlist

I rounded the corner within the halls of my father’s hospital, heading towards his oh so familiar office. I had spent a good portion of my childhood playing in the office halls of the hospital so as to not get in the way of an emergency. Every take your child to work day, every early dismissal, random day off from school, and every weekend he had to work and couldn’t find someone to watch me, he brought me here up until I was about 12.

Now I was in college, studying biology as a pre-med student at Johns Hopkins University. But today I was returning to Forks for my summer vacation in between my freshman and sophomore year. He was supposed to pick me up from the airport tomorrow but I had wanted to surprise him at work so I left a day early.

Reaching the door to his office, I entered. Embarrassingly, I had been so eager I hadn’t even checked if he was busy. As the door swung open I was met with the golden hair and eyes of the most gorgeous man I had ever seen. Given his youth I assumed he was a student or a resident but one look at his badge told me he was an attending.

“Y/N? What are you doing here?” my father’s voice broke me from my trance.

“Hi!” I smiled at my father, ripping myself from the mystery man’s enchanting gaze. “I wanted to surprise you,” I explained, returning his hug. “I was so excited I didn’t even consider that you were busy. Sorry,” I apologized to both men.

“Don’t be,” the blond said in an almost melodic voice. “Trust me I understand the importance of family.”

“Yeah Dr. Cullen’s kids are here all the time,” my father laughed.

‘This guy has kids?’ I thought. ‘Plural? He looks no older than 25.’

Seemingly reading the confusion on my face he explained. “Adopted kids. My sister and I were foster kids so we always agreed we’d adopt as many as possible. So far we’ve adopted five teenagers, hoping to give them a new shot at life.”

“Wow,” was all I said, unsure of how to react. ‘Well this guy was definitely out,’ I noted to myself. ‘Not only is he your father’s colleague, he had five teenagers.’ “Well I should let you get back to it,” I said shyly, already backing out of my father’s office, embarrassed. “I’ll be at the house and we’ll get dinner after?” I suggested to my father.

“Sounds good. See you later sweetie,” he called after me.

Carlisle tried his hardest to focus on Dr. L/N’s words but he couldn’t, he was so focused on his colleague’s daughter. When she entered the office he had sucked in a breath he didn’t need. He had heard that some mate connections hit you like a brick but he hadn’t seen it with anyone except presumably between Rosalie and Emmett when she demanded he save him.

So as soon as he was done with his meeting he hopped into his Mercedes and headed towards Dr. L/N’s house. Once he reached it he found no cars in the driveway or any indication that there had been a car there recently, only wet footprints leading up to the porch and inside the door, presumably from Y/N getting out of a cab.

Continuing past the house he parked about half a mile away before running back to the house, a feat that only took him a couple seconds.

Taking a page from Edward’s book he began creeping along the side of the house, trying to spot Y/N through a window. But when he couldn’t find her he was forced to climb up some trees until he found her in what was presumably her bedroom, unpacking a suitcase full of clothes.

He watched, admiring the girl as she sorted through the clothes, tossing some in the laundry bin and others in piles to be sorted in the closet. He realized that he could watch her all day, admiring the quirks of her expression as she reacted to different situations. He hadn’t understood the other Cullens’ obsessions with each other until now.

He continued to watch for hours. His eyes sometimes drifting to the delicate curves of her body but always scolding himself for thinking of her like that given that she didn’t even really know him. But a small part of his mind whispered that she’d be his one day.

He only left when he heard her father’s car approaching, swearing to come back to learn more about her so he could strike up a conversation about her favorite things the next time they “accidentally” ran into each other.

The next time I visited the hospital wasn’t just to visit my father, it was because I had managed to slip in a puddle, earning myself a gash on the forehead.

I was sat in the waiting room going on two hours with a blood soaked rag pressed to my forehead. I truly didn’t mind waiting seeing as I knew there were far more injured people getting treated. But as I continued to wait I started to get more and more light headed. I began to make my way to the desk in hopes they could give me some answers when I got a head rush, stumbling into a very cold, hard chest.

“Y/N?” I heard the melodic voice again. This time dripping with concern. “What happened?”

“Oh nothing,” I dismissed, reluctantly pulling away from the grasp he had on my arms. “Just slipped in a puddle and my head kind of ate it,” I chuckled.

“How long have you been here?” he asked, more concern ebbing into his voice.

“I don’t know about two hours?” I shrugged, trying to not make a big deal of it. “Please don’t tell my dad, he’ll just get all concerned and angry and wonder why I wasn’t immediately treated.”

Inside, Carlisle was already feeling all those things I just described. “Well you shouldn’t have to sit there for two hours, bleeding out of your head. You should’ve been brought for a CT. C’mon, can’t have Dr. L/N’s daughter bleeding out in the waiting room.”

I smiled shyly as I felt his strong, cold hand be gently placed on my lower back as he guided me towards an exam room.

All throughout the exam Carlisle had to hold his breath. He has excellent control, it’s what many believe to be his special ability and it allows him to do what he loves but Y/N’s blood? The faintest smell alone made venom flood his mouth. And the blood soaked rag along with the fact that he had to bandage up her forehead didn’t help.

“Okay, that should do it,” he smiled, thankfully pulling back from his mate as he finished taping a bandage onto her head. “You’ll have to keep it bandaged for a couple days but your father should be able to help with that. And you most likely won’t scar.”

She breathed a sigh of relief. “Thanks Dr. Cullen. I owe you one.”

He shook his head, breathing a laugh as he looked down at the girl’s chart. “Please, I’m happy to do it. And you can call me Carlisle.”

“Carlisle,” she repeated, nearly melting the vampire right there, “that’s an interesting name, never heard it.”

“Well my parents were a bit old fashioned,” he explained. “So your father tells me you finished your first year at Johns Hopkins? That’s very impressive.”

He admired her blush as she looked down at the ground. “Thanks. I think I was the only one of my graduating class to go out of state.”

“Yeah, I’ve figured out Forks is a very small town. Not many people leave,” he chuckled. “Do you know what you want to study?”

“Um I’ve always kind of wanted to be a surgeon. I know it’s the most difficult specialty but I enjoy the precision of it,” she shrugged.

Carlisle felt a sense of disappointment at the news that his mate wanted to be a surgeon. Being a doctor was hard enough as a vampire but having to literally cut people open? Even he didn’t think he’d be able to focus surrounded by so much blood. He was already dreading having to tell her that she couldn’t be a surgeon after she turned, not at least for decades while she learned control. He was suddenly snapped from his fantasies realizing that this human barely knew him and practically everything he knew about her came from his lurking outside her windows.

Dragging himself out of his thoughts which had no doubt created a long, awkward pause he spoke again. “Yes, well if you made it to Johns Hopkins then I’m sure you can do it.”

“Thanks Doc- Carlisle,” Y/N corrected before standing up off the table and heading for the door.

As she exited, taking most of her intoxicating scent with her, Carlisle sucked in a breath he didn’t need. As much as he hated watching his mate leave he needed a break from her blood. No one had tempted him the way Y/N L/N had, even when he was a starving newborn. And he realized that he would have to figure out a way to get close to her and get her to love him before he even told her about the mate bond. A difficult feat considering her father’s place as his colleague.

When Carlisle got home that evening he immediately went to his room, tipping off the family that something was different.

As he collapsed backwards onto his sofa he let his mind wander to his mate. He could picture her face so clearly, and more frighteningly he could still imagine the smell of her blood with eerie accuracy. He imagined all his future endeavors to keep her safe as a human. He’d watch over her, always be within reach to step in when she needed. He pictured their love story. It’d be slow and start with glances and fleeting touches until he invited her out to dinner once she became more comfortable with him. He’d kiss her goodnight on the porch and then make sure she got into the safety of her home before leaving. Their relationship would develop from there with more dates, with Y/N’s father’s approval of course. And when she uttered the words ‘I love you,’ he’d tell her about him and his species because he knew he had earned her love. And as much as he didn’t want to damn her to a life of hiding and being a monster, he couldn’t help but imagine her turning. He’d gently bite into the soft flesh of her throat, injecting his venom into her veins, cementing her as his forever. But the thought of hurting her and turning her into a monster made him hesitate.

As Carlisle continued to immerse himself in his fantasies, his sister entered. “Carlisle?” Esme called softly. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” he agreed, sitting up. He wasn’t sure whether or not to tell his family that he had met him mate, considering they were already dealing with the human mate to Edward, Bella, who they had just moved back to Forks for. Of course no secrets stayed secrets for long thanks to Edward and Alice’s gifts. Edward could be counted on for discretion but Alice’s overeager nature wouldn’t allow that. He was surprised that Alice hadn’t already planned a party but maybe she hadn’t seen his mate in her visions yet. He had also wanted to keep her his own little secret for a while but clearly that wouldn’t be happening so he relented. “I- uh met my true mate.”

Esme’s eyes widened as she gasped. Of course living in a house full of vampires everyone heard and immediately began rushing in.

“You met your mate!” Alice practically screamed, nearly knocking over Esme.

“What’s she like?” Emmett asked with a grin. “Or he?” he added hesitantly.

“It’s a she,” Carlisle confirmed. “It’s very new. She doesn’t even really know anything about me and everything I know about her comes from lurking outside her window,” he groaned in embarrassment.

“Well that worked with Bella,” Jasper laughed.

Edward shot his brother a glare before looking back at his adoptive father. “Just find an excuse to be around her, ask her on a date.”

“That’s the thing, she’s 19-”

“You’re physically 23,” Alice cut in.

“Her father is my coworker,” he elaborated. “Besides they think I’m 31 at the hospital. And she just finished her first year pre-med.”

“So you’ll see her around the hospital!” Alice insisted, still trying to convince her adoptive father that everything would be fine. “Suggest that she comes to the hospital more to observe or do an internship! Then you can get to know her and ask her on a date.”

“That’s not actually the worst plan,” Edward admitted.

Carlisle thought for a second. That could actually work, he’d just have to figure out how to bring it up to her and her father naturally.

“So what’s she like?” Rosalie asked suddenly.

If vampires could blush Carlisle would be bright red. “Well um she has H/L, (hair length) H/T, (type) H/C (color) hair. She actually looks a lot like her father, Dr. L/N. She goes to Johns Hopkins. Look can everyone just go back to what they were doing?”

“But we want to meet her,” Alice practically whined.

In his frustration with everything Carlisle blurted out, “You may not even get to meet her.”

That dampened the mood. “What?” Esme asked softly.

“Nothing is decided yet but she’s human. We’re already dealing with Bella, the Volturi are already keeping their eyes on us, and I don’t want to doom her to this life if I don’t have to.”

“But this is your mate,” Alice insisted. “You’ve been alone for 350 years!”

“He has a point,” Rosalie cut in. “We can’t afford to have another human know about us especially with the Volturi sniffing around us. And we shouldn’t be turning people unless they’re actively dying.”

“But she’s his true mate!” Alice maintained, practically stamping her foot on the ground. “He can’t just turn his back on her.”

“Look nothing is decided,” Carlisle tried to calm Alice down. “I have to be back at work in a few hours and I need to hunt so if you’d all please let me be.”

Everyone shuffled out of the room reluctantly except for Edward. “It will break your heart to let that girl go.”

Carlisle paused. He knew that, the idea of letting her go live her life and potentially fall in love with someone else broke his heart. “I know,” he admitted. “But the thought of having to hurt her and make her like this hurts just as much.”

“So love her for the duration of her mortal life.”

“Just to watch her age, live in pain, and die? I couldn’t handle that.”

“But you’re doing it for her,” Edward pointed out.

“But if I’m doing it for her shouldn’t I just let her go live a normal life?”

Edward shrugged. “I don’t know the right answer here just that no matter what you choose it’ll kill you in some way. That’s the unfortunate truth about loving a human.”

A few weeks went by and Y/N became a routine part of Carlisle’s day. He’d usually see her at the hospital, working as a secretary. (A job she acquired even without Carlisle’s suggestion.) Because of that he had gained a reputation for hanging around the nurses station, flirting with Y/N. Not only did he learn about her through actually talking to her, he would make frequent trips to her house to watch her through the windows, even occasionally going into her room, which he felt wrong about but being surrounded by her scent dismissed any doubt from his mind.

“Y/N,” he greeted like he did every morning, bringing her a coffee.

“You must be spending a fortune on coffee,” she commented, taking the cup. She had protested several times, insisting that she pay him back but he refused every time so she just began to accept it.

“It’s nothing,” he dismissed. “But if it was it’d be worth it,” he flirted, earning a blush from the girl. Carlisle had learned a lot about flirting in these few weeks. At first it was a bit clumsy but he picked it up fairly easily with a little coaching from Rosalie and Emmett.

“Yeah well you won’t have to spend like $4.50 everyday for much longer, one of my professors is starting a research project a month before the semester begins and he invited me as a fellow,” she explained, a glimmer of disappointment behind her bright, casual expression.

If Carlisle’s heart wasn’t already frozen it would’ve stopped beating. He tried his best to hide his shock and disappointment. “Oh, well congratulations. Getting invited to stuff like this is really good for med school applications.”

“Yeah, and I like being here but it was too good of an opportunity to pass up, y’know? Plus it’ll be nice to see the sun again,” she awkwardly laughed, sensing the doctor’s unease.

“Yeah, um well I have to go get some labs. Congratulations, I’ll see you around,” he rushed out with a forced smile. He didn’t stay long enough to hear her response, rushing out of the room as fast as possible without being suspicious.

He couldn’t think straight. He of course had thought about her just leaving but now that it was actually happening, as well as happening sooner than expected, he didn’t know how to deal with it.

Carlisle had no clue what to do when it came to his mate leaving. He couldn’t stop her, that wasn’t fair to Y/N, so instead he kept his distance. Which was easy considering that he could smell her from a mile away. Until one day at the hospital when the scent of her blood was particularly strong.

“19 year old female, car crash. Resuscitated once in the field, three times en route,” the panicked voice of the paramedic echoed through Carlisle’s sensitive ears. He rushed into the ER, spotting her through the window of the trauma room. He mostly recognized her through her scent but would know that H/T, H/C hair and S/T skin through purple and blue bruises from a million miles away. But the next words from her attending doctor only confirmed the worst. “Page Dr. L/N, it’s Y/N!”

It felt like Carlisle had been sucker punched in the gut. It took everything in him not to stagger back and let out a dry sob right there in the ER. When her heart monitor flatlined he wanted to slaughter every person in that room in his grief. It was ridiculous, 350 years of self control would be gone just because of a girl. But not just any girl, his girl.

When they finally got Y/N’s heartbeat back they wheeled her up to surgery, just as Dr. L/N entered the ER. “Where’s Y/N? Where’s my daughter?” he demanded, trying to launch himself at the ER desk.

“D/N, D/N,” Carlisle tried to calm the distraught father. He had to physically hold the man back with vampire strength. Fortunately the ER was too chaotic for anyone to notice. “They took her up to surgery, she’ll be fine.”

“Surgery? Oh god,” the man began to cry. “But that’s my baby, she’s all I have.” With those words Carlisle began to feel guilty. Just a few weeks ago a part of him had been so ready to basically just kidnap this poor man’s daughter and completely shatter his world without a thought. “Oh god, surgery here is a death sentence.”

Carlisle began to protest before really thinking about it. Forks Hospital was small, their surgical staff consisted of two surgeons and whatever nurses that had completed the surgical nurse program. No one came her for surgery, they all went to Port Angeles and their non-emergent traumas went there too. The only people who came here were on the brink of death and unfortunately the two surgeons here weren’t exactly outstanding in their field. They were good enough but nothing remarkable and they usually lost their patients due to the circumstances.

Carlisle tried to carry on his day as if the love of his life wasn’t dying in a surgical suite right now. But the ordinarily smooth, confident doctor was distracted and constantly messing up. Until finally his shift was over and he went up to his mate’s room. He had orchestrated the nurses’ charts so she’d be placed in a secluded room should Carlisle need to intervene to prolong her life.

When he entered the room he was met with the most heartbreaking sight. Y/N was laid on the bed, an intubation tube sticking out of her throat. Her entire face was black and blue, some bones in her face looked like they had been broken. She hardly looked recognizable. On the only chair in the room sat her father looking like a worried mess. “Oh, hey Carlisle,” Dr. L/N said dejectedly.

“I’m so sorry, D/N.”

The man shrugged. “She’s tough. She managed to claw her way out of this place. She’ll survive this.”

“I hope so,” Carlisle agreed, staring longingly at his mate.

He didn’t want to arouse too much suspicion from Y/N’s father so he reluctantly went home to change and hunt.

After his quick hunt he re-entered his home finding Alice. “Carlisle, I’m so sorry,” she said softly. He wasn’t sure what to say to that but fortunately he didn’t have to come up with anything because she spoke again. “But you have to stay with her at the hospital if you want any shot at survival.” By now Edward had joined them.

“What?” Carlisle asked.

“She won’t survive this. You’re a doctor, you have to know that. So you’ll have to change her.”

Carlisle would be lying if he said he hadn’t thought of the scenario where Y/N was severely injured and he needed to change her. He looked up at his oldest son. “There’s nothing wrong about saving her life if she’s already dying.”

Not wanting to waste another second Carlisle sped off. He almost ran to the hospital but realized at the last second he should take the car. So he floored it, doing 150mph practically the whole way there. And finally parking in the back so he’d be able to bring her home unseen.

When he got to the hospital his ears were bombarded with thousands of sounds, something he was now used to, but because of his experience he was able to tune into his mate’s heart monitor while he got his plan ready.

Heading to the morgue he found a body that was a similar build and coloring to Y/N. Carlisle was by no means squeamish but it felt weird to break her bones and watch bruises form over her skin until her face was unrecognizable. He then scraped up as many ashes as possible to make it look like someone had cremated her so no one would go looking for her body. Setting the body aside he headed back upstairs finding Dr. L/N slumped over in a chair.

Carlisle hesitantly shook the older man awake. “Hey,” he said softly, willing the man to take his suggestion. “You should go home and rest. Get changed. I’ll watch over her.” The man hesitated, still staring at his fragile daughter. “She'll be fine, I’ll call you if anything happens.”

He reluctantly agreed before heading out, making Carlisle promise to call him even if her heart rate changed by two points.

Carlisle sat for a while, waiting for the hospital to calm down a bit before enacting his plan. First he went to the nurses station while no one was there, turning off the monitors that connected to his mate’s room. He then went back downstairs, using his hearing and sense of smell to bring the body up without being detected. Finally it was time to turn his mate. He stood over her bedside, observing her mortality for the final time. Through the black and blue of her face he admired her beauty, reminiscing the unique, flawed beauty of mortals.

This would be the most difficult transformation of his life. He was more nervous than when he had turned his sister who was his first turn. Y/N’s blood smelled so sweet he wasn’t sure he’d be able to pull away. He took a deep breath through his mouth before lowering his head to her throat, biting quickly. It took everything in him to pull away. He had never killed a human but he had tasted blood when he turned them and Y/N’s was like nothing he had ever tasted before. He knew he had to hold on long enough for the venom to inject into her bloodstream which made it even harder to pull away but he did it.

When he pulled back he could see blood seeping from her puncture wounds telling him he didn’t kill her. He quickly began disconnecting her from the machines before the venom could wreak havoc on her system. He then swapped her body for the one from the morgue, connecting the machines once again. Running down to the car he placed her unconscious figure in the backseat before going upstairs to reconnect the nurses station, alerting them that Y/N L/N was dying.

But by the time they reached her room with a crash cart Carlisle was already escaping with his prize in the back seat.

It took three agonizing days for Y/N’s transformation. Carlisle spent every moment he could at her side. He had to go to the hospital in order to not arouse suspicion where he unfortunately had to deal with her grieving father. He had called him on the way home to tell that he had gone to the bathroom and when he got back she was coding. But it didn’t seem to make anything easier for Dr. L/N as the man tried to tackle Carlisle when he walked into work. Fortunately for his secret a nurse stopped him. “You left her!” he screamed. “I lost my baby. I didn’t get to say goodbye because of you!”

At first Carlisle had been elated to finally have his mate (among other conflicting feelings) but now he was confronting the grief he had created. He realized that even if she was going to die anyway, if he hadn’t intervened her father would’ve gotten to say his final goodbye.

Meanwhile at home Y/N was laid on the soft couch in his room. She had spent the first two days sleeping fairly peacefully to the point that Carlisle was afraid he had killed her but her slowing heartbeat was assurance that she was okay. The third day was the hardest, he learned from Jasper that he could feel her pain. He was at work when the pain started and Alice had called him since she would be awake soon and Carlisle had wanted to be the one with her when she woke up.

Carlisle had been sitting by her side for a few hours, admiring her now clear skin, pure from all the bruises and broken bones she had received. In his own cold, stone hand, he now felt the same in her hand, all the warmth having been drained from it now as he played with her fingers adoringly.

Even before I opened my eyes I could hear so clearly. I could hear the rustle of clothing, the sound of skin rubbing skin as I realized a cold hand was playing with my fingers. As I became more aware I realized that my throat felt so dry it felt like it was burning.

Peeling my eyes open I was met with what seemed like the brightest object in the universe. I was half convinced I was staring directly into the sun except I could heat the hum of electric lighting.

“Is it too bright?” a voice— Carlisle’s voice asked.

Turning my head I met his warm, golden expression. When I nodded in agreement he ran towards the switch faster than I had ever seen anything move. Weird, but maybe I was just really groggy, but strangely I didn’t feel groggy, I felt more alive than I ever had.

Carlisle’s face reappeared in my field of vision, I could now more clearly see the flawlessness of his skin and the flecks of gold in his irises. Unbeknownst to me he was was also now observing the smoothness of my skin and the deep red hue of my eyes. Something about him felt safe and warm, like I never wanted to leave his side again. “Carlisle?” was all I could think of to say.

His adoring smile widened when I said his name. “Hey, Y/N. How are you feeling?”

“Good…” I answered hesitantly. I felt better than I ever had but his question made me think I shouldn’t feel good.

“That’s good. The transformation can be rougher for some people,” he explained, pulling away slightly to allow me room to sit up.

As I pushed myself up I moved so fast the couch slid to the side. My eyes widened, realizing what happened. “What’s going on? What transformation?”

He took my hands in his, now kneeling on the ground in front of me. “This is going to be strange and you won’t believe me but bear with me, okay?” he asked, looking up at me. One look in his eyes and I was melting so I just nodded, allowing him to explain. “I’m… a vampire. And I made you one too.” Laughs began to wrack my body, this had to be a joke. But one look at the grave sincerity on his face told me he wasn’t joking. “It’s true. It’s why when you sat up the couch moved. Why you’re probably really overwhelmed with all the sound, smells, lights, and feelings. Vampires are the most dangerous predators. We have better senses, are faster, and stronger than anything else.” Seeing my lost expression he rushed out the next words. “I know it’s a lot and I’m sorry I did this to you.”

“Why did you do this to me?”

“How much do you remember?”

“The last thing I remember is driv-” I suddenly realized what must’ve happened. “I was in an accident wasn’t I?”

Carlisle nodded his head regretfully. “You weren’t going to make it. That’s why I turned you. I didn’t want to do it. I was going to let you live your life as a human whether that be with me or with someone else but I couldn’t just let you die.”

“So what? You just turn every dying patient in the hospital?” I asked, trying to wrap my head around his words.

He shook his head no. “You’re the first I’ve turned in nearly 70 years. I couldn’t let you die because… well you see-” Carlisle was struggling with the best word choice to keep from scaring his mate off. “We’re mates… I knew the instant I saw you. Humans can’t feel it as strongly and it’s rare to meet your true mate but that’s what we are.” I didn’t know how to react, I didn’t even know exactly what I was feeling. “You don’t have to stay, you certainly don’t have to accept our bond but I thought you should know about it. Before you got hurt I was planning to hopefully be worthy of your love the old-fashioned way but given the circumstances…”

Before I could say anything the door swung open, revealing three more vampires. One had blonde curls, another with a brunette, short pixie, and the third had caramel hair and had a strong resemblance to Carlisle. “Hi, I’m Alice!” the bubbly brunette introduced.

“Um, girls-” Carlisle attempted to dismiss them so as to not overwhelm his mate.

“She’s probably thirsty,” the blonde insisted. Everyone looked over at me expectantly. Remembering the burning in my throat I nodded. Alice approached, opening a cup allowing the most appetizing scent to permeate through the air. I took it eagerly, frowning when I looked into the cup to find a thick, red liquid. Blood.

“It takes a bit of getting used to,” the caramel-haired one empathized.

“Trust me, you’ll like it,” Alice encouraged.

I gingerly brought it to my lips. The more I could smell it the thirstier I got so I downed the drink. The second the blood touched my lips I couldn’t get enough as I began to down the drink. Once it was all gone Carlisle gently brought the cup from my hands. “C’mon, you should meet the others,” he said, gently taking my hand in his. He led me out of his room, the three women following us into what looked like a very modern living room where there were three men waiting for us. “Y/N, these are my adoptive kids,” Carlisle explained as the blonde and Alice went to stand with their… brothers? “That’s Alice and Jasper, Emmett and Rosalie,” he pointed out the couples, “Edward, and my sister, Esme.”

The Cullen clan welcomed Y/N with open arms, including Bella when she eventually met the new vampire. It took a day or two of warming up but soon enough Carlisle and Y/N began to behave just like other mates. They were constantly together, and the rest of the Cullen clan were happy to finally see Carlisle so happy with his mate after 350 years.

Masterlist

#carlisle cullen #carlisle #carlisle cullen x reader #carlisle x reader #carlisle imagine #twilight #twilight x reader

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vickyvicarious · 1 year

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"For your mother's sake."

It hits so hard, on multiple levels. First, what this might mean for her. It's her final effort, the most impactful thing she says after religion, superstition, outright pleading on her knees and crying all fail. She knows that she can't stop him from going, but at the very least she will try her best to protect him as much as she can. She places the crucifix around his neck herself, doesn't just hand it to him.

Did she lose a child to Dracula in the past? Is she seeing echoes of her own son in Jonathan's face? Or perhaps there have been brave young men who tried to fight back against him, who deliberately went to the castle and never returned. Maybe Jonathan is the first person she's met who is actually trying to go there, and while she knows it can only end in his death, the idea of letting anyone go willingly to that evil place is more than she can bear. She's giving up a piece of her own protection. The Count has been sending letters to her husband; he was the one who suggested Jonathan stay here. He knows of her. If she shows any resistance it could mean greater danger for herself, and giving Jonathan her crucifix means losing a powerful totem of self-protection. If he actually listened to her warning, she can probably expect a terrible fate of her own; maybe even just giving him the crucifix alone would be enough to ensure that. But again, whether he reminds her of her own lost son or just because he doesn't know what he's getting himself into, she can't bear to do nothing. She places herself in the role of his mother here. "For my sake," she's saying, "let me do what little I can to save you. Please."

Jonathan is an orphan. We don't know the circumstances of his childhood, but it's possible that he never even knew his mother. (It's my headcanon.) Even if he did, she has been gone for a long time now. And yet these are the words he can't argue with in the end. He was already taking her seriously, and trying to treat her with respect. Her warnings were obviously distressing to him, but there's no way he can actually turn back now. His livelihood depends on this trip, he has no actual evidence to justify leaving, and he also wants so badly to live up to Mr. Hawkins' trust in him. He is already "thinking of his father" (or the closest he has) when he says he has to go to the castle. And yet, the care and fear and love this woman is showing for him hits so hard. I wonder if he is thinking of his actual mother when he accepts the crucifix. Whether the concept of her or an actual memory... Or maybe he too is placing her in the role of his mother here. Maybe, in keeping the crucifix (and not just with him, but around his neck where she placed it, even as he rides away) he is saying yes to that implicit request as well. "I'll let you care for me. I'll accept it gratefully." It's the first motherly care he has probably felt in many long years.

In this book, children are placed in terrible danger again and again, and most of the time they can't be saved. Parents and parental figures are equally doomed, leaving our heroes all orphaned in a sense, unable to rely on any greater source of wisdom or comfort. They have to take things into their own hands and deal with the problem alone, despite still being caught up in grief for what they've lost - a kind of coming of age in that sense. There's even a literal version of this happening with both Arthur and Jonathan (and Mina) specifically, when their father figures die and leave them with sudden new responsibilities. And of course, the inheritances from these father figures help in distinct and immensely useful ways, even as they remain absent from the story throughout. They haunt the margins at best until death steals them away completely, and their illnesses tend to serve to divide our heroes from one another when they needed to be united sooner. I personally don't count van Helsing as a father figure really, but if you do then he is the only one who manages to be around and be directly helpful (and even then, he's unable to save Lucy), even though all the fathers we hear from are loved and loving. But we do actually meet a few mothers, and they are usually unable to alter the story despite being more present. Their efforts to save their children are misdirected and only bring about their own death as well, in the end. Lucy's mother seems to mean well but everything she does directly makes everything harder; the mother at the castle later tries to avenge her child possibly against the wrong person, and in any case is unable to succeed. But here, the innkeeper's wife with her crucifix manages what no other mother does. Even though she assumes this to be another wasted effort (in fact, she can't bear to remain in the room with him afterwards; re: Dracula did such a good job with the hopelessness in her voice when she says the 'mother's sake' line), her assistance helps Jonathan to survive. His 'inheritance' from this momentary mother-figure isn't just the physical crucifix, though that is useful (and also the only inheritance a mother leaves for a child throughout the book, even when it would be expected and easy and make complete sense to do so, ahem). It's also the first and the most knowledgeable and the most effective aid given to a 'child' throughout the entire book.

#dracula daily #re: dracula #dracula daily spoilers #crucifix lady #jonathan harker #dracula meta #my meta

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heartsforgreedyman · 1 year

Text

What if MC died?

listen it's 2 am and I just had this idea. hear me out:

It's long after the initial death when Belphie had killed MC. Like years. And in some horrible circumstances, MC died. Like no magic or time travel could save them or bring them back. This was their fate.

Solomon goes and tells the bros and they just can't wrap their head around it. They're all crying, grabbing their chest, hair, their clothes. Trying to ground themselves to the best of their abilities. In the first 5 minutes of it all, Satan even threatens Solomon, claiming he's playing some horrible joke but no, he offers to bring the 7 to MC's grave.

It's at this point MC is up in the Celestial Realm, causing absolute mayhem. I mean they can't go see the 7 bros!? You're asking to be killed twice over. When the riot they cause doesn't work, they go to the boys' Father.

"HEY! Hey look at me!!"

"I don't have time. If it's an urgent issue go to my attendant"

"You know I fucked your sons"

ABSOLUTELY WHIPS HIS HEAD AT MC LIKE EXCUSE ME!?

"yeah. I fucked em all. the 7 rulers of the underworld!! and you know what? the morning star himself was the best"

que MC falling from grace.

poor Diavolo and Barbatos are just casually walking their way to the House of Lamentation when MC just hits the ground in front of the two.

Clearly surprised and unknowing, Dia and Barb are just like "omg new devil!! hii :D" "are you okay? My Lord maybe we should wait on the check in"

MC dusts themselves off and just "Hey Diavolo!! Hi Barbatos. You like my new horn?" AND THEY JUST JAW DROP

Suddenly you're being dragged to the HoL and Dia is demanding the 7 to come out if their rooms claiming he has something that will break them right out of their stupor.

the 7 begrudgingly go to the common room where MC and Barb stand waiting for everyone. Finally once everyone is in Dia is just like "do it" and Barb shoves MC in the bros faces and they're all freaking out and half are still going through the grief.

"DIAVOLO THIS IS A SICK JOKE"

"MC!? IS THAT REALLY YOU!?"

"YOU HAVE HORNS????"

then straight to story time as to how MC died and how they finally got to fall after a week of hell in heaven. the bros get really soft after, cuddles, kisses, movie night. I mean they have to make up for the lost time now. especially since MC can live on with them forever now!! they don't have to fear they die ever again nor go through that horrible pain

#obey me #obey me nightbringer #obey me shall we date #obey me mammon #obey me!#obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me lucifer #obey me leviathan #obey me asmodeus #obey me satan #obey me diavolo #obey me barbatos #obey me solomon #obey me one master to rule them all #obey me oneshot #obey me headcanons

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glow-worms-are-believers · 10 months

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Lost and Found (dp x dc)

Alfred sighed as he looked over the wide gymnasium, thinking to himself that he shouldn’t have listened to Leslie. Community service was all well and good as a way to connect with people, but overseeing an inter-school bakery-sale-and-science-fair combined event was proving to be more chaotic than anything else.

As another child dropped yet another just-bought desert on the floor, Alfred slunk into the shadows deciding to let the clean-up be someone else’s task for once. As he got further and further from the main hubbub, the ex(?)-butler arrived near a small exit door and snuck out quitely. As the fresh air hit his face, Alfred let out a breath. Seeing so many children around had him thinking of his charge and where he could possibly be.

The older man hadn’t brought a pack, since he’s been going to a school, but in the moment he wished he had. Sighing once again, Alfred shook off the craving as he took a few steps towards the communal school garden when the sight of a black-haired boy sitting with his back to him had him freezing. A second later his brain caught up to him, reminding him that this was not young master Bruce. The crushing disappointment he felt as he recognized the boy in front of him was much to small to be his little master Bruce surprised him by its intensity.

Alfred took a moment to compose himself before he cleared his throat. The noise had the figure flinching and turning their head towards the older man. Then, as the boy caught sight of the older man, he seemed to slump. Seeing that he was unlikely to speak up first, Alfred took it upon himself to start the conversation.

“Might I inquire what you are doing outside, young man?”

The boy’s shoulder slumped even more though he still answered. “Haven’t got any sweets to sell,” he mumbled.

“Oh?” Alfred sounded out. “Why is that?”

“My cookies ate my homework so I had to put them down,” said the boy as he finally raised his head, long-suffering

But Alfred could only breathe a faint “Indeed?” as the boy’s features were exposed. The resemblance with master Bruce was so uncanny that the butler had trouble looking away. But as he examined him more closely he could see some minute differences. The boy didn’t have the sharp jawline both mister Wayne and master Bruce had shared. His nose was smaller than master Bruce’s and his eyes were paler than the darker blue passed down through the Wayne line. The sight of a face so similar and yet not quite like master Bruce had his mind jumping to the portrait hung above the manor’s fireplace and the face of the toddler sitting on his mother’s lap as a slightly older child stood beside her with his father’s hand on his shoulder.

Everyone had bemoaned the two-fold tragedy of the Waynes. First to lose their youngest son at such a young age, only to be themselves brutally murdered only a few months later. All was left of the previously illustrious Waynes was a grief-stricken eight-year-old who had just lost his brother and parents in such a short period of time. Alfred sighed as he remembered how angry master Bruce was at his inability to find out to this day what had happened to his brother. The man half-suspected this was how the young man had developed such an obsession with solving mysteries.

Once again having to focus back on the boy in front of him, Alfred smiled at the boy. Then, the boy’s word registered and the man let out an amused huff. “You had no choice but to put an end to that, I suppose. Cookies as spirited as yours would sell poorly in any case.”

“Oh you’ve got no idea,” muttered the young man as he pushed himself to his feet only for his hand to slip on the wet wood surrounding the gardening plots and falling face-first onto the hard wooden surface.

“Oh dear!” exclaimed Alfred as he darted to assist the boy in straightening up. The boy groaned in pain as he held his nose and Alfred could see drops of red falling down.

“Here,” said the older man as he handed the boy a fabric handkerchief.

“Thanks,” the teen croaked as he accepted it.

“Put your head between your knees,” Alfred instructed. “Breathe through your mouth.”

The boy offered a thumbs-up as he complied. Alfred waited patiently by the teen as he kept the handkerchief held against his nose. After a moment, the boy held it away experimentally and when he felt no more blood flowing he turned towards Alfred.

“Thanks,” he said before he looked down at the red-stained white fabric. “I can wash it and return it if you give me a return address.”

“It’s alright,” Alfred refused. “I don’t mind washing it.”

“Thanks,” repeated the boy as he handed the older man the handkerchief back, as he got to his feet, this time more gingerly. “I best get back before my friends start looking for me.”

“Be careful on the way back,” Alfred couldn’t help saying.

The boy hummed and as he turned around for a final wave goodbye, their eyes connected and Alfred felt a jolt travel through his body. Though the pale blue of Danny’s eyes was not the distinctive shade of the Waynes, it was however identical to the color of the late Martha Wayne’s eyes. As the boy opened the exit door and disappeared in the crowd of people, Alfred looked down at the blood-stained handkerchief.

He knew there was a less than infinitesimal chance. Still. What would it hurt to make absolutely sure?

#Lost princess AU #dc x dp #dp x dc #Danny fenton is bruce wayne’s younger brother #alfred pennyworth #roxpox #roxpoxwrote #Bruce is off traipsing around the world learning the skills necessary to become a furry vigilante with adoption problems in the future #Can you believe he left Alfred alone for 7 years?#Poor Alfred doesn’t deserves such a wild child

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topguncortez · 2 months

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Slap Shot || Prologue

a Jake Seresin AU

previous part | masterlist | next part

synopsis: the first night out in a long time, and it just so happens to be one of the biggest weekends in the Hockey season. A certain blonde hair cowboy makes his charm on you.

word count: 1.7k

warnings: mentions of grief, alcohol consumption, unhealthy coping mechanisms, mentions of "locker room talk", puck bunnies, mentions of cheating, PDA, making out, allusions of sex.

This wasn’t like you.

You weren’t the type who went out wearing one of the shortest and tightest black dresses you own, killer heels on your feet, your hair curled in big blown out-waves, makeup done and a bright bold red on your lips. You weren’t the type to sit at the bar, twirling the straw around in your drink and flirting with guys whose names you didn’t bother to ask for or learn. And you definitely weren’t the type to actively look for and plan to go home with one of those guys.

But tonight was different.

Maybe it was because for the first time in a long time, you felt the weight of the world had been finally lifted off your shoulders. Grief was such a weird thing. You knew that long ago, but it had been a while since you were met with the process. The first time you went through the grieving process, it had come on so suddenly, you weren’t sure how to handle it. This time, you had years to prepare for it. Once you hit that final phase of acceptance, you felt like you could breathe again. And you had a new outlook on your life and you were ready to take charge of it.

Or maybe it was because the bar was crawling with hockey players.

It was All-Star weekend, and the best of the best NHL players were in town to show off their skills. The bar you were currently sitting in was crawling with them. Some were trying to enjoy probably their first night off in weeks, others looking for a puck bunny (or two) to take back with them, and some fell in the middle.

You sighed as you looked down at your drink, swirling around the melting ice with your straw. The confidence you had felt earlier when you first put on this dress was starting to fade, and the insecurities started creeping in. You weren’t entirely sure what you thought was going to happen when you strolled into this bar. You could count on one hand all the one-stands you have had in your entire life (the answer was one and that one ended up becoming a long term boyfriend). Also, you had a thing about not hooking up with hockey players. You had been surrounded by them your whole life. There was something about hearing the locker room talk the day after a win that made you want to stay as far away from hooking up with one as humanly possible. Even if a hockey player was the last man on the planet, you would weigh the pros and cons of reproduction or killing off the human race.

“Hey,” You waved down the bartender, “Can I get my-”

“Jack and Coke, sweetheart,” A husky voice said, as a large, warm body saddled up next to you, “And whatever the lady is having,” He nodded his head towards you.

You furrowed your eyebrows as you looked up at the man next to you. You were met with the sight of perfect tan skin as if it had been kissed by the sun god himself, sandy blonde hair and the brightest smile you had ever seen. His green eyes peered down at you, a smirk on his lips.

“You looked like you were going to leave,” He said, his voice with a slight southern twang to it, “And I couldn’t let you leave without introducing myself.”

You raised a brow in suspicion.

“Jake,” He held his hand out to you. You looked at it skeptically, and then back up at him, his smile never wavering, “Oh c’mon sweetheart, I promise I don’t got any diseases. It’s just a hand shake, not a marriage proposal.”

“Sonny,” You said before you even had a chance to stop yourself. It was the nickname your father had given you, and the name he almost always introduced you as.

“Sonny, huh? Short for Sunshine?”

I wish, you thought, “Yeah, I guess.”

The bartender set down two drinks in front of you, the jack and coke for Jake, and another vodka soda for you. Jake lifted his drink, cheersing against yours before taking a sip. He leaned his back against his bar, canvasing the tightly packed area. Your eyes wandered over his body. He was clad in a burnt orange suit, with a lighter orange shirt underneath, a vast difference from the black and navy blue fitted suits filling the bar. It fit him in all the right places, the top buttons undone showing his collarbone and a gold chain around his neck. You watched as his throat bobbed as he took a sip of his drink, and thoughts of you running your tongue down the vein in his neck filled your mind, a warmth spreading in your lower belly.

“I can feel you staring,” Jake said, turning his head to meet your gaze.

Normally, you’d turn away and blush like a schoolgirl. You weren’t inexperienced with guys by any means, but you didn’t have the confidence. The fear of rejection was buried deep into you, that most of them you stayed away from guys like this. But blame it on the alcohol, you gave him a smirk, lifting the straw to your red painted lips.

“A girl can’t admire what she likes?” You shrug, batting your eyelashes.

A flash of darkness moved through his eyes, before the playful grin arose on his cheeks, “Yeah?” He leaned in closer to you. The scent of his cologne fills your nose, goosebumps arising on your skin from the warmth filtering off his body. Who knew that you could get turned on by a man smelling good? “What else does the girl like?”

You bit your lip, leaning into him, so your chest was almost touching his. You didn’t miss the quick shift of his eyes downward at your chest and then back to your eyes.

“Tequila.”

The smirk never left his lips as he turned back towards the bar, ordering two shots of tequila with limes. You took another sip of your drink, setting it down on the bar as the bartender delivered the shots. Jake gently took your hand in his, his green eyes locked on yours as he licked a stripe on your skin, before sprinkling a line of salt. The move shouldn’t have turned you on that much, but alas here you were, wondering what it would be like to feel his tongue on other places of your body.

As if he could tell what you were thinking, Jake shot you a wink before handing you one of the shot glasses. He held his glass up slightly, as he gave a small toast.

“To bad decisions. Can’t come in her, come on her.” Jake’s eyes never left your as you both licked the lines of salt on the back of your hands. You watched as he clenched his jaw from the burn of the clear liquid down his throat. You set the shot glass down on the bar, now feeling the warmth of the alcohol spread through your veins.

“More?” You asked, a look in your eye that told Jake you weren’t ready for the night to end yet.

“Fuck it.”

The two of you put down a couple of more shots, before Jake was dragging you back to a booth he and his friends had claimed on the other side of the bar. You weren’t sure what it was about Jake, but you felt like you knew him. Maybe it was his easy going smile or how easily a conversation flowed between the two of you. Jake had sat you down next to him in one of the booths, but at some point in time, you had slid into his lap, his hand resting comfortably on your thigh, like it belonged there. Your drinks had long been discarded and the ice melted.

“So, what are you in town for?” Jake asked, his lips right next to your ear as he tried to speak over the loud sound of the bass.

“Work stuff,” You shrugged. You would rather not get into the details of what was going to be your most stressful weekend of the whole entire season, “What about you? You live here or…?”

“Nah,” Jake chuckled, “Born and raised, but don’t live here. Also visiting for work.”

Right on cue, one of Jake’s friends set down another tray of shots, everyone around the booth grabbing one. Jake kept his arm around you as he reached to grab one. He raised it up, toasting with the rest of his friends, before turning to look at you.

Your breath caught in your throat as you watched him take the shot, holding the alcohol in his mouth. You didn’t need to be told as his hand gripped your face, and brought your jaw towards him, opening your own mouth. You knew it was obscene as Jake spit the alcohol, which was again tequila into your mouth, but you didn’t care. You had barely swallowed the liquid, when you crashed your lips to his.

Jake’s grip on your hips tightened, and you felt the swelling of his cock against your ass. His hand tangled in your hair, pulling you impossibly closer to him. His tongue entered your mouth, tasting of the lime and tequila he had taken earlier. His warmth enveloped you, as you rubbed your thighs together trying to get some friction to relieve the aching heat between your legs. Your hands tangled in his hair, pulling gently on the blonde locks, making a groan fall from his lips. Jake’s lips trailed from yours, leaving a path of sloppy, wet kisses on your skin, sucking with just enough pressure to make a moan tumble from your lips.

“What do you say, sweetheart,” Jake whispered against your skin, the feeling making you shiver in his arms, “Want to get out of here?”

You turned to face him. His green eyes were blown wide with lust, his hair tousled from you running your hands through it, his lips slightly swollen and pouty as he looked at you.

Throwing all caution to the wind, you placed another heated kiss on his lips before pulling away.

“Thought you’d never ask.”

taglist: @dempy @marchingicenotes7 @abaker74 @aworldwideapart @atarmychick007 @hookslove1592 @whatislovevavy @lynnevanss @djs8891 @jessicab1991 @senawashere @bethbunnyy @bradshawbaby @coconut152 @jazminlahey20 @averyhotchner @misconceptionmistress @drxgxnslxyer @atinytinaa @hangmansgbaby @buckysteveloki-me @himbos-on-ice @krispybearbouquet @fandom-princess-forevermore @seitmai @ateliersss

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lvrcpid · 1 year

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how everyone reacted to you and neteyams death. (requested.)

includes: jake feeling shitty about himself. sullyfamilyxgn!reader. angst. if you haven’t read the main story, read it before reading this here

jake:

probably felt the worst. you always voiced how he was too hard on the both of you, you really only having the courage to stand up to your father. he didn’t really have time to grieve the loss of his two children but when he did , it hit him hard. jake isn’t one to cry, but realizing you two were gone forever tore that wall down he tried so desperately to keep up.

neytiri:

i feel so bad for her. her grief turned into anger. she wished it was her instead of the two of you. she carried your body while jake carried neteyams body to the bottom of the ocean. she was mainly upset and confused. why did both of you have to die? neytiri knew she wasn’t going to get that answer till the day she was reunited with her children. she just misses the lights of her life. her first steps into motherhood

lo’ak:

oh god. lo’ak was a mess when you and neteyam passed. frantically asking everyone if they knew why this happened, nobody could give an answer, they just didn’t know. baby beats himself up over it pretty badly and blames himself like it was all his fault :( you were his rock and neteyam was his idol. now it’s all up to him to carry your legacies until he takes his last breath, finally getting to see his siblings. probably doesn’t wanna go to the tree of souls, he’s only 14 it’s a lot of emotions to handle.

kiri:

shuts down immediately. probably stops going into the water since it’s possibly a trigger for her. definitely keeps your guys’ things in her hammock and sleeps with them since they still smell like you both. probably gives lo’ak a few items to give him peace at night. she probably has nightmares as well :( constantly huddled under neytiri telling her she misses you guys.

tuk:

it breaks my heart to write this ngl. poor tuk cries nonstop. it’s hard to get her to stop but when she does she kind of forgets. toddles her way over to your hammocks to ask to play and jake has to quietly remind her that you both aren’t coming home. cue waterworks. probably sits in neteyams spot for dinner and yours for breakfast. poor baby didn’t wanna move from your bodies , convincing herself you both were just sleeping :(

bonus!

neteyam:

it took him about a few days to process you both had died. he didn’t wanna freak you out or anything so he didn’t mention it to you, he wanted you to come to terms with it on your own. he felt like it was all his fault , you were robbed of life because of him. neteyam felt so guilty . like the guilt was eating him alive almost. constantly apologizing. he wanted to make the best out of it so he would constantly take you to meet passed family members he’d already met and take you to do your favorite things you did while you were alive.

a.n// NOW YALL DEF HATE ME FOR THIS. i hoped anonie who requested this likes it mwah mwah

#avatar #avatar x reader #neteyam x reader #awotw #jake sully x reader #kiri x reader #loak x reader #neytiri x reader #sully family x reader #tuk avatar

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normanplusdaryl · 1 year

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You, you, you.

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader

Era: Season 10

Word count: 1.2k

Plot: After a long night, Daryl comes home and you decide he needs a little break.

Warnings: It's not smut but its implied? It's nothing explicit ig.

A/N: This is my second fic and I can not believe I'm actually doing this lmao, this is one of my favorite scenes on the show and I've always thought Daryl deserved someone who take care of him after a rough night. Thanks to my friend @weretheones for all the amazing help, I seriously couldnt have done it without u, muah!

-----------------------------------------------------------------------

The dawn was beginning to come out when the gates of Alexandria came to Daryl’s sight, it had been a long night for him, where everything that could go wrong actually did.

The walk home was silent between the archer and his best friend, the only sound intercepting the thick tension were the grunts of the hooded whisperer trying to set himself free. This would end up really bad, he could feel it in his gut.

Daryl’s mind was spinning around what happened, trying to understand Carol’s actions. He knew she wasn't the same after what Alpha did, but after all these months he could only hope her grief was at least healing — he was clearly wrong. There was something he couldn't identify in her eyes, more than anger or revenge, something that scared him.

Gabriel saw them coming inside and hurried once he spotted their hostage.

“You put us all at risk!” he barked at Carol.

“We need to find that horde before it shows up in our gates” Carol replied.

“So you decided for all of us? Knowing what it could mean?” Gabriel angrily answered back.

“Don’t matter anymore, we still gotta fin’ them” Daryl's voice came from behind the livid father — “We will figure it out'” he stated, ending the discussion as he started to walk home, to his home. To you.

He opened the door slowly trying to be quiet, you were probably still asleep and he would be damned if he perturbed your very needed rest. Daryl placed his crossbow down on the table you reserved for it. “Come on baby!” you pouted, “This way you can always know where you left it and it’s easy for you to grab it on a run! It’s a win - win, don't you think?” Your eyes were so wide with excitement he couldn't say anything else but to peck your lips while nodding “Alrigh’” he simply answered.

The memory made him smile, then, it hit him. That was the reason why Carol’s intentions to stir things up scared the hell out of him: he was finally happy. After so many years of walking on eggshells just surviving, being with you gave his life meaning, and the idea of you being in danger for her impulsive actions unsettled him, he couldn’t lose you. Daryl sighed as he began to take his vest off, a fresh pair of clothes should be enough to remove the smell and fatigue from the night before.

“Hey, you’re back” your voice broke his thoughts. Daryl turned to you and his heart jumped. You were together for more than 6 months now and he still couldn't believe he was lucky enough to behold you like this.

“Msorry, didn't mean to wake ya, go back to sleep angel” he softly said.

You frowned, something was wrong. “What happened? Is everything ok?” you replied with a sweet tone in your voice.

He bit his bottom lip, staring at the window. “It’s Carol, she took one of em’ here, I, huh, helped her '' he wasn't certain why, but he felt ashamed as he spoke —“We will try to make him talk”.

Your mouth formed an “O” picking up on what troubled the archer. Alpha could take retaliation if she knew what happened. Shit.

“Come on baby” you softly said, raising your hand so he could take it. “We need to get you clean first”.

You led him to the bathroom. Unsure of what was happening he followed every step you made with the feeling of thousands butterflies in his stomach. The way his old shirt embraced every one of your curves barely covering your bottom made his heart race. He never thought getting a shower could be this exciting. Sitting on the sink, Daryl watched you unbutton his shirt very slowly, pecking at the skin revealed with every button that was undone. Soon, his broad chest was displayed and you smirked with satisfaction. Bringing your hands to his neck, you brushed his lips just a little and whispered “Let me take care of you, please”.

Daryl trembled, he didn't feel tired anymore.

Once you were satisfied with the temperature of the water, you took your robe off getting into the shower. Daryl couldn't help but stare as he got rid of his boxers, the sight of your naked body wasn't something he would ever get used to.

The hot water splashed against his ached body, making him gasp with delight. You chuckled at the action “I thought you didn't like showers, huh?” you teased him. “I like them with ya” Daryl sheepishly answered.

Your eyes traced his whole body searching for injuries that might need more than just some cleaning, to your relief, there wasn't anything new. Taking a sponge, you delicately started to wash his chest, paying extra attention to every one of his scars, caressing them gently, wishing they could disappear along with his pain, just like the soap with the water. Daryl’s eyes were glued to the action, feeling a warm sensation spreading over his broad frame, god, he loved you.

“I know you’re worried” he looked into your eyes, listening to your words closely, “But I need you to understand, whatever happens, I’m here for you, we can always fight together” You placed his hand on your left breast, “Do you feel it? My heart beating?” Daryl nodded, lost in the sensation of your soft skin against his rough hand.

You kissed him deeply, wanting to make him forget about the troubles of the world he always felt the need to carry on his shoulders. “I love you Daryl” you whispered between kisses. Daryl felt like crying, he wasn't used to this kind of burning, unconditional love. “I love ya too” Daryl managed to answer, unable to concentrate in anything else but the feeling of your lips on his, you were the only thing in his mind. Every fiber of his body was consumed in you. You, You, You.

Soon, the steam from the hot water wasn't the reason the bathroom was boiling, it was the way you both got lost into each other until you became one.

Daryl came out of the house with his hair dripping, Gabriel approached him as soon as he spotted him.

“Did you take a shower?!” he said with a hint of surprise in his voice “I thought we were going to check on that whisperer guy?”

Daryl remained stoic to the father's questions but he felt himself blushing, just when he was about to brush him off Aaron caught up with them.

“Hey! We were looking for you!” he exclaimed, pointing at Daryl — “You showered?!” Aaron’s eyes widened with disbelief and Daryl left a frustrated grunt.

“Can't take a damn shower or what?” Daryl growled as he walked away from the two men with a hidden grin on his face.

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itsgameofthronesimagines · 2 years

Note

Could you write about Harwin strong being married to Rhaenyra's sister and they are in Drifmark and is their son who attacked Aemond to protect his little brother so when they are asking about what happens they stand up for him and at the end is the reader who stops Alicent from attacking her son?

(Gif not mine but oh, be still my beating heart)

Title: Strong Bonds

Fandom: House of the Dragon

Pairing: Harwin Strong x Female!Targaryen Reader

Word Count: 7,610

Warnings: Grief, incest, blood, violence, childbirth, etc.

A/N: FINALLY A HARWIN STRONG REQUEST! For context, Y/n will be a year younger than Rhaenyra, and speaking of which, Rhaenyra will still be married to Laenor and their sons are all legitimate with mixed skin, silver hair, and purple eyes.

(I do not consent to my works being reposted/copied)

"Are you sure it's safe for you to be traveling at this extent?"

Y/n peered up from absentmindedly playing with her sleeping son's dark hair, her own silver locks falling over her eyes as she does so. The carriage rocks as it slowly made its way down a dirt road outside, swaying the Targaryen princess and her family in a calming moment of their chaotic lives. The son whose head rested in her lap, Osmund, stirred when the carriage hit a bump in the road but otherwise kept on dreaming. Y/n returned to petting his hair to keep him that way.

Her husband, Harwin Strong, closely watches her from across the carriage, their youngest son, Baelor, also slept but preferred his father's strong arms over his mother's small lap. No one could blame the five-year-old child since Princess Y/n's lap had shrunk over the months due to her ever-growing stomach, now barely giving ten-year-old Osmund room to sleep in peace.

She raises a sharp eyebrow at her husband, "Would you rather have me fly Qyraxes to Driftmark?"

"Gods, woman, no of course not," Harwin shakes his head, but couldn't help the small grin he bore, "You act like I want to be a widower. What I meant to say was that we didn't have to leave if it would be safer for you."

"This is my cousin's funeral, my love," Y/n spoke sadly, staring out the window while thinking of Laena, "Everyone is going to be there and we, alongside the rest of my father's family, are expected to be there. Besides... I have not seen or heard from Rhaenyra since she left for Dragonstone. I need to see her again."

"Your sister could easily fly back to King's Landing to see you."

A scowl forms on the princess' beautiful face, "Not when there are leeches always lurking about in the Red Keep."

She doesn't speak plainly, but the message was clear. Y/n always prided herself in acting similar to her uncle, Daemon, over her father, Viserys. Much like Daemon, Y/n always saw Otto Hightower as a leech, sucking the blood from the King's back. His daughter is no different. Queen Alicent is a thorn in Y/n's side. Like repeating history, the two women exchange poisoned words with each other, much like how Otto and Daemon once did. It brought Y/n comfort to learn that Lord Otto was dismissed and sent back to Oldtown, with her good father, Lord Lyonel, taking his place as the new Hand of the King, but the Queen still remained. Y/n may not have been friends with Alicent like Rhaenyra once was, but their personalities clashed and therefore formed a rivalry that matched the feud between Alicent and Rhaenyra.

Alicent's most recent jab was one spoken under her breath, but for the entire Small Council to hear. She had made a comment that only true Targaryens have silver hair, and although she never spoke plainly, everyone knew she was singling out Y/n and Harwin's black-haired children. Lord Lyonel Strong looked appalled and disgusted in defense of his son, and Viserys wanted to come to his youngest daughter's defense, but Y/n had always been able to hold her own. Her sharp tongue shuts the accusation down quickly when she pointed out that Alicent's sons and daughter must not be true Targaryens then since they're half Hightower and were just lucky enough to bear silver hair.

Y/n didn't like King's Landing any more than Rhaenyra because of obvious reasons, but unlike Rhaenyra, the younger sister didn't really have a choice in leaving when both she and her husband were part of her father's court. As much as Y/n would love to raise her children alongside her sister in Dragonstone, Rhaenyra had been named the princess of said keep and therefore she had every right to live there. Y/n, being the younger daughter of Viserys and Aemma, had no such claim and unfortunately had no rights apart from those she earned when marrying her now husband.

Not to say she was complaining, however, since she loved Harwin with a burning passion and was happy to bear his sons and heirs of Harrenhal. Y/n had never been happier, and made peace with the fact that she would never have claims to anything like Rhaenyra did as long as she wasn't Viserys' heir. Y/n was content in just being a Targaryen princess, a dragon rider, a wife, and most proudly a mother. Nothing more.

Harwin relents after a fashion of heavy, grieving silence, adjusting his younger boy's head to rest more comfortably on his chest, "Did the maesters say you'll be safe to travel?"

"... No," she flashed a shy grin as if she had been caught stealing sweets, "But when has that ever stopped me?"

Harwin huffs out a small, exhausted laugh, a fond tone in his voice, "Have you noticed how much I've aged since I married the trickster that you are?"

"I've never tricked you into anything," Y/n tilts her head and smiles fondly back at him, "If anything, you're the one who's been tricking me. Only you could persuade me from causing a little chaos."

"Then I should have tried making my case back at King's Landing before we even packed for Driftmark."

"I'm pregnant, my love, not dying," Y/n decides to change the subject upon looking out the window and seeing Driftmark's rooftops in the distance, "I hope Daemon makes an appearance. He tends to act more of a stranger than usual when grieving."

~~~~~~~~~

Daemon is not there to greet his family when they arrive, but Rhaenyra is, along with her husband, Laenor, and their children, Jacaerys and Lucerys.

The royal family and their court all spill out of their line of carriages, King Viserys being the first to greet his oldest daughter with a hug and a kiss before greeting Laenor with his condolences. Alicent and her children dutifully say their grievances, but remain stiff during the whole exchange. Harwin emerges from his carriage, helping his sons out and then his heavily pregnant wife. Y/n's feet barely touched the ground before Rhaenyra embraced her.

"You look stunning," the older sister comments while holding Y/n's face in her hands, "Have the maesters determined the gender of the child?"

"They think it's a girl," Y/n beamed, glancing over at her husband, "And I think he is far more excited than I."

"Marvelous. You must tell me what names you have planned out over tea," Rhaenyra links her arm with Y/n as they began to walk.

"How is Joffrey?"

"Restless, I'm afraid. I left him at home with the wet nurse so that I may gain some sleep out of all of this. You know, if you're truly having a daughter, perhaps we might get to wed our children after all."

"Wouldn't that be lovely? We would get to spend our elder years together, watching our children and grandchildren rule all of the strong houses of the Seven Kingdoms. And let's not forget the dragons they would all ride."

The beautiful vision fades when the Lord and Lady of Driftmark finally come out to greet their guests. Rhaena and Baela are with them and are momentarily distracted from their grief in exchange for fawning over Y/n's rounded belly. Y/n gladly answered their questions if it meant they could briefly forget about their mother's passing. She also secretly enjoyed the girls' company, excited with the idea of possibly having her own girl soon. Jace and Luke trail behind them, but try to act as though they were not interested. Y/n included her nephews in the conversation, wanting them to bond with Laena's daughters. They were family after all, and family shouldn't feel like strangers to one another.

The funeral itself is brought down to the cliffsides where Laena's coffin is to be thrown into the sea. Vaemond Velaryon said a wonderful eulogy about his family's house and finally, the heavy coffin was thrown from the cliffs' edge, sinking to the very bottom of the deep. No one ever said a word until they walked back up to the keep in order to help themselves to wine and food. Plenty of people took this time to give their condolences to the family of the dead, and Corlys and Rhaenys bravely took in their guests despite mourning for the loss of their child. Laenor mysteriously vanishes, but no one says a word, not even when Corlys angrily sent Ser Qarl Correy to fetch him. Everyone was tight-lipped, the tension filling the air with the threat to break. Who were meant to be family members barely knew what to do with each other.

Speaking of, Y/n finally spotted Daemon lingering on the outskirts of the growing crowd and briefly left the children with Harwin and Rhaenyra so that she may give her condolences, "Uncle. My sincerest apologies for you and your daughters."

Daemon accepts the kiss on his cheek but keeps his hands folded in front of him, leaning against the stone balcony overlooking the sea. His eyes travel over his niece's face before traveling down to her swollen belly, smiling slightly as he spoke in Valyrian, "Not as sorry as I am for you to make such a harrowing journey in your predicament. My own wife was dying from childbirth before she took matters into her own hands. One could only wonder if the difficult labor was the consequence of our family traveling so often."

"You can't blame yourself for what's happened," Y/n rests a hand on her uncle's shoulder, reverting to her mother tongue, "Women die of childbirth every day, our mothers were no exception. Laena was strong and determined to die a dragonrider's death, which she succeeded."

Daemon briefly looks down and then looks off to the side. Y/n follows his gaze and spots her father across the yard, eyeing the two of them before turning away and speaking with Corlys Velaryon. Lyonel Strong is standing beside the King, with young Baelor weaving between his two grandfathers, unbothered. Y/n looks back at her uncle and whispers in his ear in the common tongue, "Speak with him. He misses you."

She pulls away and gives Daemon his space, carefully hobbling over to her usual social circles. Harwin has a chair waiting for her as their friends and family are gathered around it. Harwin holds Y/n's hand to steady her as she sits, gratefully taking a drink from a servant girl. Osmund approached his mother once she was settled and she immediately grabs his hand with an encouraging smile.

"Why don't you go and see to your cousins, hm?" Y/n gently squeezed her son's smaller hand, her thumb tracing shapes in his skin, "They've lost their mother. They could use a kind word."

Osmund looked as though he was ready to pout and whine until he glanced up at his father. One stern look from Harwin and the little lord sighs and nods obediently, leaning over and kissing his mother's cheek before walking away to find Rhaena and Baela.

Rhaenyra watches her nephew walk off, a cup of wine in her hands, "Is he ill-tempered?"

"Not usually. It's been a long journey to Driftmark and he was sad he couldn't fly here. It's also the first time he's ever experienced loss. I don't think he knows how to properly react yet," Y/n absently rubs her stomach, playfully smiling up at her husband, "He does get his might from his father though."

"As one could expect from the son of Ser Breakbones," Rhaenyra chimes in with amusement as she now watches her sister's movements, "So for names, have you decided on any?"

"A few," Harwin answered from his stance behind his wife's chair, "If the maesters were mistaken and it is a boy, we want to name him Viserys," Rhaenyra smiles as he continued, "If it's a girl... we're still deciding on just one."

"We've been going back and forth," Y/n sighs, exhausted by the memory alone, "Alysanne, Alyssa, Nymeria, Visenya and... and Aemma."

Rhaenyra pauses mid-sip, slowly pulling the goblet away from her lips when she found she couldn't swallow, eyes blinking rapidly as she wordlessly gripped Y/n's shoulder. Neither sister said a word, but they understood each other all the same. Rhaenyra pardons herself, deciding she needed fresh air away from the crowds. Once she caught sight of Daemon leaving the gathering, she makes up her mind and sends her sons to bed before she, too, disappeared from the public eye.

Y/n watched her sister leave with her uncle and chose to ignore it, smiling and acknowledging the King when he slowly made his way to her after bidding the Queen goodnight.

"My child," Viserys took his daughter's hand and kissed it, "I'm retiring for the night. Do try and get some rest before the return journey."

"Yes, Father. If it is my king's wish."

Viserys smiles and nods to Harwin before exiting. Eventually, Princess Rhaenys walks up to the couple after consoling her granddaughters, and Harwin offers her a seat beside Y/n. Rhaenys accepts and leans close to her distant cousin while overlooking the crowd.

"I had hoped for your baby to be born by the time this gathering happened," the elder woman admits, "I had hoped new life would've outshined the loss of an older one."

"Laena was still young," Y/n held onto Rhaenys' arm, "And strong-willed. I would rather have people remember her life today instead of celebrating the birth of my child. Laena deserves that. I'm so... I'm so sorry, Princess Rhaenys."

Rhaenys only nods, unable to allow herself tears in a public setting, keeping her eyes fixed on Y/n's hand on her arm for a focus point, "No parent should outlive their child."

"And yet, we all wish for our mothers to be with us for the rest of our lives," Y/n looks off, heart-clenching, "I wish my mother got to grow old. I wish she got to meet her grandchildren and die fat and happy... But I wouldn't wish that for myself if it meant your granddaughters got to have their mother back. I wouldn't wish for Rhaena and Baela to go through the same loss I went through when I was their age. I wouldn't wish that for my sons or my nephews."

Rhaenys stands, feeling the emotions threatening to spill from her eyes and she couldn't bear to cause a scene. She squeezes Y/n's shoulder, nodding in thanks when the words couldn't come out, and then she left. A few hours pass and then both Harwin and Y/n round up their boys and bring them to their beds. Once their children are asleep, the parents turn in for the night as well, hearts heavy and exhausted.

Harwin had been quiet during most of the interactions at the gathering, but his thoughts were loud in his actions. While helping his wife undress, he couldn't help but kiss her bare shoulder and let his hands linger around her stomach, storms brewing in his eyes, "Years ago, I couldn't understand why your father was so... broken after the loss of your mother and brother. But now... as your husband and father to our boys... I can't even fathom what I would do if that were you in your mother's place."

Y/n quietly hushes Harwin as she turned to face him, letting her fingers graze over his beard, "It happens to women all the time, my love. It cannot be helped. You can't fight your way out of that. My mother used to say that a woman's battlefield is the birthing bed, and unfortunately, it's not a battle you can fight for me."

Harwin nods despite the look of defeat in his eyes. He had always been a man of action, able to protect those he loves with his might. However, Ser Breakbones always felt helpless whenever his wife goes through pregnancy. He felt useless and the only thing he could do was continue to be a husband and father, but not a soldier. Up until now, his family didn't need him to be a soldier.

The two of them go to bed, held in each others' arms as the moon moves slowly overhead and commanding the unforgivable waves to crash against the rocky cliffs outside the keep. It was soothing to listen to as sleep overtook the tired pair, more soothing than the sounds of King's Landing at night. It was easy to drift into dreams when a beautiful place such as Driftmark was so peaceful and quiet.

That is until a frantic knock is heard pounding on their bedroom door hours later, rudely awakening Harwin and Y/n from their slumber. Harwin crawls out of bed and walks to the door, "Who is it?"

"Harrold Westerling, Ser Harwin."

Y/n sits up in bed, alarmed as both she and Harwin exchange a worried expression. Harwin helps her stand up and throw a dark red robe over her nightgown before they beckon the Commander of the Kingsguard inside. The old man throws the heavy door open, straightening his posture and bowing in Y/n's presence as she addressed him.

"Ser Harrold, what seems to be the matter?"

"Forgive me for the late hour, Princess," Harrold appeared out of breath and possibly even horrified, further worrying the Strongs, "But there has been an accident and your sons are waiting for you in the Great Hall."

Neither of them questions it, both parents racing out of the room with Ser Harrold closely following them. They weave through the hallways of the dark keep, barely seeing a soul awake until they burst into the doors leading into the Great Hall.

Most of the souls that were once sleeping under the roof of the keep were all gathered in this one room, the lights of torches and the blazing fireplaces dancing over everyone's grave faces. Y/n first spots silver hair and finds Rhaenyra and Daemon, standing together off to the side and holding onto Osmund and Baelor. Both Y/n and Harwin run to their sons and gather the boys in their arms, worry filling their voices as they question why both of them had blood on their little faces.

"Ozzy, what happened? Are you alright?"

"Are you hurt? Let me see it, son."

"Why is your nose bleeding?"

"Tell us what happened, Bae."

Poor little Baelor was crying too hard to get a word out, clinging onto his mother's skirts like a lifeline even as his father was kneeling beside him and examining the bloodied and bruised knuckles on his tiny left hand. Osmund looked angry and defiant, a cut cracked over the bridge of his nose and bleeding along with his flaring nostrils as his mother's hands trail over his injured face. Finally looking around at the rest of the crowd, Y/n noticed Viserys and Alicent on the other side of the room, the Queen kneeling beside the maester as he tended to Young Aemond, the prince sitting beside the fireplace with half of his face stitched up. Rhaena and Baela were also present and bleeding from their faces, hugging either side of their Grandmother Rhaenys' waist and Corlys stands protectively in front of them. A few faces were missing from this picture, such as Laenor and his sons, but Rhaenyra doesn't acknowledge this as she stands close to her sister and answers her questions.

"The children were fighting each other. A knife was drawn--"

"Your son took my son's eye!" Alicent proclaimed hysterically, unshed tears in her manic eyes as she stood up and stepped toward the center of the room.

Y/n's eyes widen and looked down at her oldest child, "Ozzy?"

"Aemond stole and claimed Vhagar," Osmund explained, "He said horrible things about Aunt Laena when we all confronted him."

"She attacked me!" Aemond snarled as he pointed at Baela, thus starting a chain of children arguing over each other.

"He attacked Baela!"

"You insulted our mother!"

"He broke Ozzy's nose!"

"He stole my dragon!"

"He could've killed me!"

"It should be my son telling the tale!" Alicent roared.

"He was only defending himself!"

"He could've killed Baelor!"

"I didn't do anything!"

"Silence!" Viserys demanded, slamming his cane down against the cobblestone floor, "I am your king and I will have the truth of what happened! Who drew the blade?!"

"It was mine," Osmund admits, hanging his head when all eyes turned to him, "I drew it when I thought Aemond was going to kill Bae."

"He wouldn't stop hitting me," Baelor whimpered into his mother's swollen belly, thus shattering Y/n's heart and angering Harwin's as he stood, placing himself between the royal family and his own with a stern glare.

"Let me see the knife."

Ser Harrold brought the weapon forward as evidence but wasn't stupid enough to just hand it over to Harwin. Ser Breakbones noticed the knife and nodded, looking back at Princess Y/n, "It's the one I gave him."

"But Osmund didn't cut Aemond!" Baela yelled to her cousin's defense, "It was--"

Her voice dies once she noticed something in Osmund's eyes and Rhaena elbowed her. Y/n caught this exchange and gently pinched her older boy's chin, forcing him to look up at her.

"Osmund Strong. Did you or did you not attack Prince Aemond with a knife?"

Osmund's throat bobbed nervously, eyes trying to focus on anything other than his mother's gaze. Y/n found this bizarre, considering that he had been honest with her until now. Then, realization began to dawn on the princess as she slowly looked down onto a different child, not Osmund. All eyes follow her gaze until they all land on Little Baelor. Y/n's other hand ran through her baby boy's hair.

"Bae... was it you?"

Baelor continued to sob, shaking from head to toe, "Aemond grabbed a rock! He was gonna hurt Ozzy!"

"I lost the knife," Osmund finally admitted, trying to keep everyone's attention away from his little brother, "And I got pushed to the ground, but it wasn't Baelor's fault! He took the knife to protect me!"

Alicent scowled in disgust, "And so you cut Aemond's face--"

"Your son was hitting my baby boy!" Y/n screamed back, beyond all of the Queen's slander.

"Seven Hells, Your Grace, he's only five years old!" Harwin came to his family's defense.

"And yet he's capable of spilling my son's blood!"

"Is this what you condone, my Queen?" Y/n's voice drops, a clear tone of challenge, "To have your son, a prince, attack little girls when they defend their mother's name?"

"Your sons attacked mine!"

"To defend their cousins," Y/n reminds her and the rest of those in the room, "Surely you wouldn't raise your son to believe he could do whatever he wanted just because he's royalty. Surely, the good Queen herself wouldn't teach her children to mistreat women or smash a little boy's head in with a rock."

Alicent is momentarily struck by the mockery, quickly recovering with a small scoff, her top lip twitching, "Are you questioning how I parent my children, Princess?"

"I am not questioning your parenting, Your Grace. I'm denying its existence."

Daemon grins proudly at his niece as the room is filled with gasps of dismay, clearly being the only one amused by Y/n's retort. Alicent's face crumbled as though someone had just smacked her in the face. With the tension straining, Harwin stood closer to his wife and children, his arm hovering over Y/n's back as Viserys clicked his cane upon the floor.

"Enough, Y/n. Trading insults won't change what happened. Aemond, tell me the truth, boy," the King slowly limps over to the bloodied prince, "Did you hit Lady Baela?"

Aemond looked as though he had been caught red-handed, pale, and stubborn. Slowly, he grits out his answer, "Yes. After she hit me."

"Liar!"

"Silence!" Viserys roared before glaring back down at his son, "Aemond, did you grab a rock?"

"To defend myself!"

"I was already on the ground, you idiot!" Osmund snapped, spitting out blood and saliva.

"Osmund!" Y/n reprimands her son, tightly holding his shoulder as Harwin reverts his gaze onto the boy.

"Hold your tongue, son."

"But no one was attacking him by then! We were all on the ground!"

"It's true!"

"Silence!" Viserys slammed his cane again.

"This was clearly just an act of self-defense, Your Grace," Y/n bravely continued her defense of her children, against her father's order.

"All of this... over an insult," Alicent huffs out a breath of disbelief with her eyes rimmed with tears, "My son has lost an eye."

Viserys, distressed, tired, and angry, nearly threw his arms around like a child having a tantrum, "This interminable infighting must cease! All of you! We are family! Now make your apologies and show goodwill to one another. Your father, your grandsire, your king demands it!"

The whole room froze, shocked with disbelief. Alicent appeared appalled as her husband slowly limped past her towards the door. Y/n witnessed something snap within the Hightower woman as she spoke, "That is insufficient."

Viserys slowly turns around to face her as the Queen continued, "Aemond has been damaged, permanently, my King. 'Good will' cannot make him whole."

"I know, Alicent, but I cannot restore his eye."

"No, because it's been taken."

"What would you have me do?"

"There is a debt to be paid," the sentence alone sent a chill down Y/n's back, eyes dancing between her father and stepmother. Viserys stared at his wife in disbelief as the Queen strongly proclaimed, "I shall have one of her son's eyes in return."

Murmurs and gasps of horror filled the room; Harwin and Y/n's grip on their sons tighten protectively. Viserys tried to calm Alicent, wanting to defuse the situation, "My dear wife--"

"He is your son, Viserys," Alicent cried, the tears finally spilling, "Your blood."

"Do not allow your temper to guide your judgment."

Silence fell again and Viserys thought it was over. He turns to leave just as his wife spoke again, her tear-stained face straightening up as her eyes turn to another man in the room, "If the King will not seek justice, the Queen will. Ser Criston... bring me the eye of Baelor Strong."

Criston Cole's eyes scan the room as Baelor begins to step back away from the crowd and from his parents, distraught and terrified as he spoke in his small, innocent voice, "Mother!"

"Alicent..." Viserys warned.

"He can choose which eye to keep. A privilege he did not grant my son!" Alicent snapped back while glaring down at the offending family.

"You will do no such thing." Y/n sternly stated, willing her voice not to shake in fear, but to be as powerful as the Queen's own demand.

"Stay your hand!" Viserys snaps to Ser Criston, to which Alicent pushes back.

"No, you are sworn to me!"

Ser Criston feels the eyes of Ser Harrold on him and finds his words, avoiding Alicent's gaze, "As your protector, my Queen."

Alicent reared back in betrayal, barely flinching as Viserys stepped up to her in challenge, "Alicent. This matter... is finished. Do you understand?"

She scans his face, unable to form a reply as he spins around and tries to meet the gaze of everyone else in the room, "And let it be known! No more fighting shall be done within the blood of my own family."

Y/n relaxed, her voice dropping its firm hold as she gently addressed the King, "Thank you, Father."

Both she and Harwin turn back to their sons, the father beckoning the boys to follow him as he tried leading his family away. The boys go to follow Harwin, still shaking in fear, while Y/n takes her time to follow, her hand gingerly caressing her stomach.

Viserys takes one more look at Alicent before turning back towards the door. He doesn't feel alarmed at the sound of her feet quickly following him, but it's not until he felt the empty space of his Valyrian dagger at his belt did his heart suddenly sink to his stomach.

Ser Harrold is the first to react, stepping towards the King, "Your Grace-!"

"Alicent!" Viserys spins back around, watching his wife's auburn hair disappear into the crowd with his dagger in hand.

Harrold sprints forward, shouting commands to his guards without turning back, "Stay with the King!"

"Hold your approach!" Criston Cole demands against his commander's wishes.

Others began to scream and shout a warning to others, pulling away and giving Alicent a wide berth with her newly acquired weapon. Y/n felt the hairs on the back of her neck before she heard the shouts of the Kingsguard along with her father's voice shouting Alicent's name. Spinning around, Y/n is met with a vengeful queen, Alicent screaming as she brought the raised dagger down on the princess.

Harwin spun around as the chaos began to rise, eyes widening as he immediately takes a large step forward, "Y/n, LOOK OUT!"

Y/n's arm rises and she's able to catch the arm Alicent held the blade in, trying to push the other woman away but they had both taken hold of each other's arms, pushing and pulling against each other, grunting under the weight of the force.

Harwin jolts forward in order to interfere, heart racing in fear and rage. Lord Lyonel steps in front of his son, however, forcing Harwin back just as the blade came down and Y/n had caught it, "No, son! Do not incriminate yourself!"

"Y/n!" Harwin yelled, struggling against his father. He was definitely strong enough to push Lyonel away, easily, hadn't two Kingsguard stepped forward and held onto Ser Breakbones.

It was pure chaos. Kingsguard held swords out to those who dared try to come to Y/n's aid, conflicted with their duties but wanting to protect their Queen if it meant letting her pursue the princess. Ser Harrold was easily just as conflicted, not knowing who he should order his men to protect as he tried pushing through the crowd. He makes it to the two women, but with his mind not yet made up, he instead circles them and pushes lords, ladies, and other soldiers back if they tried to step forward.

Harrold sees someone rushing forward and holds his arm out to them, "Do not, Ser Criston!"

"Alicent!" Viserys roared, but couldn't move much as he stumbled with his cane.

Baelor screams in terror as everyone who formed a circle around his mother and Alicent pushed him back as they grant the women space. Harrold tried yelling over the chaos as others also screamed in fear and protest, all trying to outscream the other.

"Do not, Ser Criston!"

Criston Cole, fierce and determined, tries getting into the circle, perhaps wanting to perform his duty and protect his queen. He pushes people away to get to Alicent and Y/n, but Daemon suddenly steps forward and is able to stop the knight in his tracks, keeping him in place as the two men glared at one another until two other Kingsguard took Criston by the arms.

"Alicent!"

"No!" Harwin shouts, desperately struggling against his bonds and giving the Kingsguard a workout in restraining him.

Rhaenys keeps her granddaughters behind her while she made a grab for Osmund and Baelor, pulling the boys to her body while Corlys shields them all behind him. Rhaenyra is left open and tries to make it to her sister, but Ser Harrold grabs her gently and keeps her back while simultaneously trying to get a hold of his men, "Stay your hand, Cole!"

Rhaenyra struggles against Ser Harrold's hold on her, shouting over at the Queen, "You've gone too far, Alicent!"

"I?" Alicent questions in distress, still fighting for control against Y/n while speaking between the two sisters, distraught and unhinged, "What have I done but what was expected of me? Forever upholding the kingdom, the family, the law! While you and your sister flout all to do as you please!"

"Alicent, let her go!" Viserys demanded from outside the circle.

"Where is duty? Where is sacrifice?" Alicent's tears continued to fall down her face as her eyes search Y/n's while she screamed, "It's trampled under your pretty foot again!"

"Release the blade, Alicent," Rhaenyra demanded.

Alicent desperately tried to breathe, panting under Y/n's strength and her own despair, "And now you take my son's eye, and to even that, you feel entitled."

"Exhausting, wasn't it?" Y/n grunts, a jolt of pain running through her as she desperately tried to keep the point of the blade from her own eye, the flames of the fireplace dancing over the steel and her eyes, "Hiding beneath the cloak of your own righteousness."

Her voice lowers, glare dead set on Alicent's face, "But now they see you as you are."

Alicent pushes all her body weight and any strength she had left into pulling her arm out of Y/n's hold, grunting in rage as she freed the blade and made a swipe at the princess. Shock settles the room, Alicent stepping away to observe her handiwork, only for her eyes to immediately widen once she finally settled on what she had done.

Y/n had taken several steps away, the pain not entirely making itself aware until she heard gasps from all around. Corlys had caught her by the shoulders to steady the princess, noticing the way she was unconsciously clutching her arm. Both of them look down at the offending arm, noticing the blood soaking through Y/n's dress sleeve and spilling through her fingers. The blood droplets splatter onto the floor as Viserys stands beside Alicent, watching in horror as his little girl bleeds because of a wound his own wife inflicted. In her shock, Alicent's grip on the dagger loosens and the blade clatters to the floor, paying no mind to it as all she could do was stare at the cut in Y/n's arm.

Harwin had paused in terror before finally realizing that Y/n was still standing and breathing, the blade now out of danger. Shock draining from him, he pushes the Kingsguard off of him, the two soldiers too stunned to react and let go of him. Harwin pushes past his father and rushes to his wife, gathering her up in his arms and holding onto her wrist so that Corlys could properly inspect the wound from the other side of her. Y/n doesn't speak or react to her husband's hold on her, too stunned to do anything but stand and stare, leaning into Harwin for support. Both Osmund and Baelor break away from Rhaenys and run to their parents, holding onto their mother for dear life. With Criston Cole backing off, Daemon slowly walks forward until he is at Harwin's side, his hand on one of Osmund's shoulders. Rhaenyra pushes Ser Harrold away from her and also joins the Strong family along with Daemon and Corlys, the princess stepping in front of her sister and inspecting Y/n's face and then her wound. Watching as the blood continued to flow, Rhaenyra's posture slowly straightened, the rage of a dragon and a protective older sister taking hold. Unable to calm her anger, Rhaenyra breathes harshly through her nose and spun back around, glaring daggers at Alicent.

"You dare attack my sister!"

The room felt cold, despite the fire blazing hot beside the opposing families. Alicent couldn't bear to look Rhaenyra in the eye, so the princess moves her gaze onto her father, "Your Grace, I beg of you to open your eyes. Your wife just attacked one of your daughters born of our mother and of true Valyrian blood. She meant to bring harm to the princess and her unborn child."

Viserys eyes move to watch Y/n and her family tend to her, sadness and longing evident on his face as Rhaenyra bravely continued, "I am your heir, Your Grace," Viserys looks back to his eldest child, "But should anything happen to me, Y/n would take my place. Therefore, this attack on my sister is a treasonous act against the crown and your bloodline! If you are the honorable king that holds those who commit treason accountable... then no exception can be made for anyone of any station if you value your family and inspiring your loyal subjects."

Y/n slowly begins to come back to her senses, feeling the warm blood run down her arm and another warm liquid run down her legs. She pales as she tried focusing on the sound of Viserys' voice, trying not to panic, "It was a foolish action, Rhaenyra. But even you, as a mother, understand what it's like to protect your children. Alicent was only trying to avenge hers."

"By what? Killing my sister?" Rhaenyra's voice broke, eyes slowly starting to mist, "Carving out the child she carries?" Viserys flinched at that, "What happened to Prince Aemond's eye was a tragic accident. But this... this was intentional. Queen Alicent intended on spilling blood."

Rhaenyra hears a small cry of a kitten behind her, but upon spinning back around, she only saw Y/n clutching her stomach and slowly bending over, soft cries escaping her lips, and the men surrounding her bent down to the princess in confusion. Rhaenyra's eyes widen when she noticed a clear puddle beneath Y/n's skirts slowly pooling against the cobblestone to mix with the blood. Rhaenyra rushes towards her sister, forgetting Viserys and Alicent.

"Y/n?" Harwin's stomach dropped as the wheels began to turn in his head, eyes widening in realization.

"Mother? What's wrong?" Osmund asked innocently, holding onto his little brother.

"She's started her labors," Rhaenyra explains while letting her sister grip her arms tightly, "I wouldn't be surprised if the harrowing events of tonight spurred this on."

Daemon stood back from the group aiding Y/n, keeping a hand on his sword and an eye on anyone who may take this opportunity to pursue his family in a time of vulnerability. He stands guard while Rhaenyra and Harwin frantically help Y/n stand straight again, holding onto both of her arms. They wordlessly follow Corlys as he leads them out of the room and down the hall, back to Y/n and Harwin's chambers. Rhaenys thought it best to take Rhaena and Baela to Jacaerys and Lucerys' quarters where they were no doubt still sleeping through all of this. The older princess beckons the Strong boys to follow so that she might keep an eye on all of the children, unconsciously -or perhaps not- leaving the royal children out. When neither of Y/n and Harwin's sons moves, Daemon takes them both by the shoulder and directs them to follow Rhaenys, the Rogue Prince becoming a protective shadow for the children as Rhaenys whisks them away.

Corlys opens the doors to Harwin and Y/n's chamber and the Targaryen princess is brought inside, the Sea Snake calling for the maester along with the midwives who had traveled with the royal company. Rhaenyra and Harwin help Y/n get comfortable as another wave of pain takes over, the hair near her face beginning to stick to her skin as she tried taking deep breaths, exhaling shakily.

"I will stay with her, Ser Harwin," Rhaenyra vowed while dabbing a cool cloth over her sister's forehead, "You may go."

"I'm staying here," Harwin states confidently.

Y/n quickly grabs his hand through a contraction, squeezing hard as she pushes out words, "No no no, you need to go stay with the boys. We can't trust anyone with our sons for as long as we stay here."

"Y/n--"

"Alicent just threatened to pluck out Baelor's eye and attacked me," Harwin tried not to look, but clearly there was still blood seeping out of the cut on Y/n's arm. Y/n appeared to ignore this, trying to catch her breath, "I don't want my sons left alone for even a second until we leave. Harwin, please, go protect the boys. There's nothing you can do for me now."

Dutifully, he nods, standing over his wife and lingering a kiss on the top of her head before slowly backing away and leaving the room, practically forcing himself not to turn back as he goes hunting down his children.

A maester arrives and first looks into fixing the cut on Y/n's arm while the midwives attend to prepping for the baby, hurrying around the room in search of fresh clean towels and Milk of the Poppy. As promised, Rhaenyra stayed by her sister's side during the whole process, letting Y/n squeeze her hand as hard as she liked, whispering soft words of encouragement, and dabbing her face with a cool cloth.

For obvious reasons, Y/n didn't get any sleep that night, but neither could anyone else in the keep. Everyone was restless, even those unaware of Y/n's labors. After the events of the night, everyone was high-strung and uneasy, and some were downright afraid. Alicent returned to her chambers, never wanting to see a soul until morning. Viserys went to bed, but lay awake at night, guilt and remorse running through his veins. The royal children retired to their respective rooms, but they all stayed awake and Aemond even sat at the window, watching Vhagar in the distance with a smirk.

Daemon, Harwin, and Rhaenys continued to stay and entertain the children, tending to their bleeding faces and trying to make them forget their worries. Jace and Luke, none the wiser for what had happened, gladly entertained the idea of everyone staying up and having fun in their rooms, putting a smile on everyone's faces as they ran around and played. Daemon even found himself teaching all the children small bits of High Valyrian, boys and girls alike sitting down all around him with Baelor and a book in his lap. Baela sat next to her father, her head on his shoulder, trying to rest her eyes after everything that had happened to her today, the only one too exhausted to repeat her father's Valyrian phrases unlike the rest of the children.

Rhaenys sat and quietly listened to these lessons with a cup of wine in hand, while Harwin stood at the door, sometimes pacing, sometimes entertaining the children with stories. But not once, the entire night, did he leave his post at the door, his hand always on his hilt.

The moon had not yet disappeared but the sky was starting to brighten into beautiful colors over the ocean when the door opens and Harwin held onto his sword a little tighter. Everyone looks up with bated breath as Rhaenyra walks in, standing tall and regal as if she had not been awake all night.

"Mother!" Luke gasped excitedly while standing up and running to the princess.

She practically beams as he tightly hugged her waist, her eyes darting up to Harwin with delight, "Y/n's delivered a girl, and they're both going to be fine."

The whole room relaxes with relief, the last of the tension finally leaving the air and leaving them all understandably exhausted. Harwin's whole stiff posture relaxes as one of his hands rises to rub his face. Rhaenyra silently laughs, joy still evident on her expression, "The maester asks for only you to go and see her. Your sons can visit their mother once she's rested."

Harwin nods and swiftly leaves the room, while Rhaenyra turns to the rest of the family, "The royal family leaves Driftmark today, but with your permission, Princess Rhaenys, I think it would be wise if the rest of us stayed a little longer for Y/n and everyone else to get some much-needed rest."

Rhaenys agrees just as Laenor pops into the room, disheveled and groggy. He looks at everyone's expression with a puzzled look, finally turning to Rhaenyra, "What have I missed?"

Harwin makes it back to his chambers in record speed, trying not to appear hasty but also anxious to see his wife and their new daughter. Entering the room, a few of the midwives were cleaning up and leaving, the maester long since gone. Y/n was asleep in their bed, flushed with her silver-blonde hair curling around her head due to sweat, but a small bundle was nestled beside her, and it was squirming. Harwin stepped closer to the bed, making note of Y/n's arm now wrapped in bandages before inspecting the bundle of blankets, his smile softening by what he found.

The infant was small, her little cleaned face the only thing peeking out of the blankets aside from her tiny fingers slowly curling around the fabric as she slept. Like her brothers, she sported small fuzzy tufts of dark hair and even darker eyelashes. The baby girl's lips were slightly open, letting out soft hums as she dreamed. Harwin's heart had never fallen in love faster than it did at this very moment, his finger lightly caressing her cheek and amazed by the softness of her skin.

"My love."

Harwin's eyes drift over to his once slumbering wife, noticing her eyes have opened and she was tiredly smiling up at him. Overcome by relief and happiness, Harwin laughs under his breath before leaning over and kissing Y/n on the lips, taking her breath away. Eventually, he pulled away, his thumb running over her cheekbone.

"Amazing as always, my dear," he whispers, unable to resist kissing her forehead, "How are you?"

Y/n slowly blinks, humming, "Exhausted."

"You can rest. I say you've more than earned it."

Her eyes peek open again, "The boys?"

"Safe and sound. They are in good hands. Rhaenyra will bring them to you once you've healed," his hand grazes over her bandaged arm, "What did the maester say about this?"

"It was Valyrian steel. So the cut was clean. A scar will remain, I'm afraid."

"I will take a new scar over your death any day," Harwin kissed his wife's forehead again before carefully lifting the small bundle into his arms, attempting not to wake the baby. His smile widens once he's positioned her properly and naturally begins to rock, "Well, she's finally here. Have you thought about the names we picked?"

"I did... but none of them seem right now that I've met her."

"Well, do you have another one in mind?"

Y/n thought long and hard, fingers drumming against the feather pillow. She thought about tonight's events, how it had all started with Vhagar being stolen and Laena's memory insulted. To have those two things happen along with the attack in the Great Hall, it felt as though people had tainted the memory of a young and fierce woman who was taken from this world too soon.

"Laena," Y/n strongly announced, "I like to believe she was here with us this past night. I like to believe she protected us and she deserves to be honored now that I've delivered my daughter in her family's home."

Harwin stared down at their daughter, playing with the name on his lips as he watched her sleep, "Laena Strong. I like it."

~~~~~~~~~

A/N: Osmund was named after King Aegon I Targaryen’s Hand, Osmund Strong, who was assigned the Hand of the King after Orys Baratheon’s death. Baelor was named to reference Baelor the Blessed/Beloved, but it’s obviously not him since the original Baelor won’t be born until after the Dance of Dragons. Laena is obviously named after Vhagar’s true rider, aside from Visenya. I would have named Y/n’s daughter after Visenya, but spoiler alert, Daemon and Rhaenyra eventually have a daughter already named that. She’s probably the baby in Rhaenyra’s belly in Episode 8.

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prythianpages · 7 months

Text

ACOSM | The Night she made Azriel lose control

azriel x rhysand's sister (oc)

warnings: angst, smut or at least my attempt at it lol

summary: Valeria is sparring with Cassian and Azriel when Rhysand invites her to the gathering of the High Lords of Prythian. The night is tortorous for Azriel, who can no longer hold himself back and finally gives in to his desire.

A/N: this is an imagine among my collection that follow Rhysand's sister, Valeria. while I'm still working on them, you can find the masterlist for it here. This is my first time writing smut, which is why this took me forever to write. I even readchapter 55 of ACOMAF a couple of times again for "research purposes" lol Anyway, besides the smut, lots of stuff happen in this imagine and more ACOTAR characters make an appearance!

Valeria sat atop one of the training rings at the House of Wind as Noctis soared gracefully above her. In the brilliant sunlight, his dark wings glistened–a testament to his swift and powerful recovery. A radiant smile grazed her face, finding joy to see him whole and soaring once more.

She hummed a familiar melody and Noctis was quick to catch the tune. His hauntingly beautiful song intertwined with hers. Setting aside the book Cassian had gifted her on Illyrian fighting techniques, Valeria perked up at the sound of wings beating the air.

It had been nearly half a year since the blood rite and Rhysand’s grand ball and so much had changed in that time. The news of two bastards and a half breed ascending to the title of Carynthian had sent shockwaves throughout Illyria, and perhaps even throughout most of Prythian. The revelation that both Cassian and Azriel were gifted with seven siphons each only added to the astonishment. Rhysand, too, had been gifted with siphons, though they had shattered, unable to contain his immense power.

Shortly after the grand ball, Cassian had returned to the Illyrian camp he was born, eager to reunite with his mother. Their separation had weighed heavily on his heart over the years and he had been looking forward to seeing her and taking care of her. However, when he arrived at the camp, he was met with devastating news. His mother was dead. The news had hit him like a physical blow and even more so when he found out the true nature of her death and lack of respect in burial. It left him reeling with an overwhelming grief and sorrow that morphed into anger and a thirst of revenge. With the help of Rhysand and Azriel, they took revenge on his mother’s cruel death and destroyed the village, allowing only the truly innocent to live.

The High Lord of the Night Court did not take lightly to the actions of the three powerful Illyrian males. Valeria suspected that the remarkable power the three males held posed a potential threat to her father. In the weeks that followed, the High Lord assigned Rhysand a growing number of responsibilities as his designated heir. He offered Azriel the role of spymaster–a proposition that didn’t leave him with much room for refusal. Cassian, on the other hand, had returned to Windhaven, and swiftly climbed the ranks, now commanding a small legion of his own.

With all the changes and increased duties, it came to a surprise to Valeria that Cassian remembered the promise he had made prior to the blood rite. She had diligently studied the book he had gifted her, mastering nearly every technique within its pages. She still did so behind her father’s back. It was not an easy task as he hovered over her for the first couple of weeks after her return to the Night Court. This made it challenging to discreetly train with the Valkyries as she enjoyed doing so.

So Valeria dedicated herself to playing the role of a dutiful daughter with the hopes that it would divert her father’s attention from her training and secrets she held. It was a difficult one as he still held resentment toward her. She immersed herself in music, spending countless hours practicing her violin despite her preference for the piano. It paid off, as her father’s interest in her began to wane and as she resumed her violin lessons, she found it increasingly easier to slip away for her secret training sessions.

“Alright, little warrior.” Cassian grinned as he touched down in front of her, his wings tucked behind him. “Let’s see what you’ve got.”

Valeria smiled back at him, her eyes searching his face. She knew the past couple of months had been challenging for him yet he always managed a smile and optimistic attitude, masking the underlying sadness and grief he carried. He was one of the strongest people she knew–both physically and mentally.

“I didn’t get to train last week since I had an audition for a violin solo, so I’m a little rusty.” Valeria confessed as she patted the dust off her leathers.

“Did you get it?”

A spark of triumph gleamed in her eyes as she replied. “Of course I did.”

Cassian’s grin grew wider. “Well then, I guess I’ll have to push you harder this morning.”

The training grounds were bathed in the soft glow of the morning sun as Cassian and Valeria stepped onto the training ring. She looked up to him with determination in her eyes and Cassian respected her spirit as he began to wrap his hands. “Let’s practice without weapons first and focus on hand to hand combat which is about…”

“Control, balance and swift strikes.” Valeria answered, reciting an excerpt from the book word for word and wrapping her own hands to prepare for sparring.

“Yes.” Cassian nodded at her, impressed as he stepped into a defensive stance. “Watch me closely and then we’ll practice together.”

He demonstrated a sequence of moves, fluidly shifting from one stand to another, showcasing the elegance and power of combat. Valeria followed his every move, memorizing the steps.

“I know you’ve already had some training with this but let’s start with the basics again. I’m going to make a move and you try to block or evade it.”

Cassian then made the first move, a precise jab toward her shoulder. Valeria reacted quickly, dodging the blow with ease and responding with a counterpunch. Cassian deftly blocked her attack, impressed with her reflexes.

“Good.” Cassian said with another nod of approval. “Keep that focus and speed.”

They continued the training session as Noctis watched, perched on one of the punching dummies nearby, his sharp eyes on his beloved keeper. As always, Cassian was patient in training Valeria. He showed her how to anticipate her opponent’s moves, find openings in their defenses and land precise strikes. Valeria was a quick learner and with each round of practice, her confidence grew.

As they exchanged blows, Valeria saw an opportunity. Her speed and precision was nearly overwhelming, catching the seasoned Illyrian warrior by surprise for a faltering moment. Just when it seemed like Valeria was gaining the upper hand, he intentionally left himself open. Valeria, driven by the thrill of the movement, lunged forward with a powerful punch. Her first met its target but Cassian, with a wly grin, grabbed her arm and twisted, sending her tumbling to the ground.

She landed on her back with a huff, her chest heaving from exertion.

“Never underestimate your opponent.”

Cassian’s eyes twinkled with amusement as he looked down at her. She was already drenched in sweat, her muscles aching and struggling to catch her breath. He held his hand out toward her which she begrudgingly took. He did not look nearly as winded as her.

“Now, get up, my little warrior. We’re not done quite yet.”

“Not done?” Valeria echoed in dramatic horror.

Valeria’s senses were thrown into a whirlwind of surprise. Another voice, one she hadn’t heard in weeks, broke through the moment.

“It’s my turn now.”

Valeria’s head whipped around, feeling dizzy for a moment, but her eyes quickly found their way to the hazel ones she had missed so dearly. Azriel.

He was also dressed in his Illyrian leathers, his cobalt blue siphons casting a soft, enchanting glow. His presence, as always, was a compelling blend of mystery and allure, making her heart flutter. The longing she felt for his company was undeniable. She hadn’t seen him in weeks as he was preoccupied with the duties her father assigned to him and if it wasn’t the High Lord calling upon him, it was Rhysand, leaving little room for private moments together.

Cassian and Azriel exchanged nods in silent greeting. Azriel then turned to her, his lips curving into a teasing smirk. His eyes raked over her form as his shadows swirled around him in excitement and his large wings unfurled behind him. He looked at her with a mixture of pride, protectiveness and a hint of longing.

She felt like he was undressing her with his eyes.

“Cauldron boil me,” Valeria cursed under her breath.

Cassian chuckled. Azriel maintained his composed demeanor and gaze fixed on her, his smirk remaining unfaltering. He, too, had likely heard her choice of words and judging by the way his shadows whirled around him, he must’ve sensed the hidden meaning behind them.

He finally took his eyes off of her as he approached the weapons vault. “Where are you in your training with the Valkyries?”

Valeria considered the question for a moment before replying, "We've moved on to sparring with actual weapons."

Azriel's hazel eyes lit up with interest as he selected two swords from the vault, flinging one of them toward her. Valeria caught it with ease, though with a slight frown.

She much preferred daintier weapons such as a dagger or her whip. Zeila, her valkyrie trainer, had rewarded her with the elegant rope-like weapon for her remarkable progress. Crafted from pure silver and adorned with moonstone gems, it matched the necklace around her neck. At first glance, it appeared delicate, but when the moonstone gems were ignited by her power, it became a formidable tool capable of burning through those who dared to cross her. Valeria had glamored the whip to resemble a wrap-around bracelet when not in use and it currently shimmered brilliantly under the sunlight.

Azriel and Valeria stood facing each other, a palpable tension filling the air as Cassian sat on a bench nearby and watched. Much to his dismay, Noctis made himself comfortable atop of his head.

Valeria was the first to make a move, moving with a fluidity that was both elegant and powerful. As they sparred, Valeria demonstrated her newfound skills, seamlessly combining the precise strikes of the Valkyries with the fierce, aggressive style of the Illyrians. Azriel observed with growing admiration, impressed by her quick adaptation and her ability to execute the intricate maneuvers. Their swords clashed, the sound ringing through the rooftop, and with a deft flick of his wrist, he managed to disarm Valeria. His experience and training outmatched hers but Valeria was not one to give up easily.

In a swift and practiced motion, she extended her arm, bringing the rope-like weapon to life. Azriel’s eyes widened for a flickering moment as he readied his sword but Valeria was too fast for him. Within seconds, her whip wrapped around Azriel’s wrist, forcing him to release his sword, the sharp piece of steel clattering to the ground. She grinned triumphantly as Cassian whistled in approval.

Azriel stumbled back, momentarily disarmed, until he saw an opportunity and seized it. He took advantage of the weapon wrapped around his wrist and pulled on it, throwing her off balance, sending Valeria stumbling forward. She was not able to catch her footing on time and both her and Azriel tumbled onto the ground. Azriel swiftly gained the upper hand, pinning both her wrists by her head as he straddled her.

“I got you.” He smirked down at her.

With a mischievous glint in her violet eyes, Valeria shifted her hips up and wrapped her arms around his torso the best she could. She trapped his legs with her own and mustered up all the strength she could to roll over just as Cassian had taught her. In a sudden and skillful maneuver, she found herself hovering over Azriel, her dagger that had been attached to her thigh now pressed against his neck.

“Never underestimate your opponent.” Valeria said, her voice breathless but triumphant, echoing Cassian’s early words.

Azriel blinked back up at her, his pupils dilated. His gaze flickered down to her lips before locking with her gaze. Blood rushed up to her cheeks as she remembered the last time she had straddled him. It seemed so long ago and just as it had before they shared their first kiss, the world around them faded into the background, leaving just the two of them. She dared to lean down–

A boisterous laugh shattered their trance, snapping them back to reality.

Valeria removed herself from Azriel. He was the first to get up, offering his scarred hand to her. His shadows slithered down his arms and toward her, reaching out to caress her face in a way he yearned to himself as he pulled her up with him. They turned to an amused Cassian who offered a round of applause for Valeria.

“I’m so proud of you.” He told her. “Keep it up and you’ll be a Valkyrie in no time.”

Valeria’s heart swelled. “You really think they’d let me in?”

“Of course.” It was Azriel who replied.

She was smiling at the two formidable Illyrian warriors when she felt a gentle talon caress her mind. She allowed her brother in, who wanted to know where she was. Her smile fell and the two males looked at her in concern.

“Rhys is coming,” she said in warning at the same time she gave her brother her location.

With practiced ease, Valeria used her powers to glamor and remove the telltale signs of her recent training session–the sweat-soaked training gear and leathers were replaced with a simple black dress. Noctis returned to his usual place on her shoulder. She had just enough time to glamor Cassian and Azriel as well to paint out the illusion of them sparring.

Rhysand was still unaware of her extensive training as she had sworn both males to secrecy. While her brother did keep his promise in teaching her how to use the dagger they all gifted her, it was nowhere near enough to explain the advanced skills she had just displayed.

Azriel glanced down at his shirtless body and arched an eyebrow at her. A devious glint flickered in her eye as she smirked back at him with an appreciative gaze. The tattoos adorning his upper body, a mark of his emergence as a true warrior from the Blood Rite, were a sight to behold. She wondered for a brief moment what it would be like to kiss them as she dangerously trailed her way down…

Cassian seemed to be unfazed by his shirtless form, picking up the sword Valeria had been using, eager to get into character.

Rhysand emerged from a cloud of swirling darkness. He smiled fondly at Valeria in greeting before acknowledging his two closest friends. “I didn’t know you two were sparring today,” he commented, his tone lighthearted.

Cassian responded with a cheeky grin, "Just releasing some pent-up frustration, Rhys." He turned to Azriel, a cryptic look in his eyes, sensing something in the Shadowsinger he was strangely familiar with. "Right, Az?"

Azriel glared at him. "I'm sure Cass still has energy."

Rhysand chose to brush off their strange behavior, not wanting to delve into it further. "It's alright," he said, waving a hand dismissively. "I'm actually here for Val."

Valeria turned to him, her curiosity piqued.

"I need you to be ready by dinner. The High Lords are gathering at the Moonstone Palace for dinner, and Father requests our presence."

Valeria's eyes narrowed as she met her brother's gaze. She had her doubts that it was truly her father who had called for her presence, and judging by Rhysand's cheeky grin, she knew he had played a role in her being allowed to attend. Despite her skepticism, she nodded in agreement.

"I'll be ready."

The dinner among the High Lords of Pyrthian, their families and entourage was uneventful save for the mention of growing unrest between the mortals and fae. There were reports of some fae enslaving mortals–a matter that had drawn the attention of the High Lords.

Surprisingly, the High Lord of the Night Court appeared indifferent to Valeria’s presence at the dinner. A small victory.

Though she couldn't shake the feeling of being the odd one out as she was the only daughter to a High Lord present. She was grateful for Rhysand and Azriel, who sat on either side of her as Noctis–her usual companion–had to stay behind. Cerridwen and Nuala offered to take care of him for the night. The two males beside her watched over her, their protective presence enough to deter any unwarranted attention from the other attendees, especially the eldest sons of the Autumn and Spring court. Mor and her family were also present at the dinner, the first offering Valeria a sense of familiarity and warmth, but unfortunately, she sat far from her.

As the dinner came to a close, her mother, who sat across from her, sent Valeria a reassuring smile. With the main meal completed, the guests began to disperse into smaller groups, with alcohol and light desserts served for those who remained. Valeria took a moment to collect herself, her violin resting on a soft chair nearby. She picked it up and positioned it with care, knowing that her presence at the dinner came at a cost – the entertainment she could provide with her violin.

With a sigh, she began to play, the graceful notes of her violin filling the room and carrying a sense of melancholy and beauty. The Night Court’s orchestra arrived, a couple of songs later, providing a welcome respite. She smiled at them in greeting and they regarded her warmly, having grown fond of her over the past six months.

“That was excellent.” A voice praised.

Valeria looked up, eyes widening as they landed on the High Lord of the Dawn Court. Thesan. His aura radiated a warm golden glow, his brown skin and hair kissed with the permanent brilliance of sunrise.

“You’ve grown into a wonderful young lady.” His gaze was warm as he regarded her. He remembered the last time he had seen her, when she was just six years old.

Valeria recalled the memory clearly as it had been a slightly embarrassing incident when she had injured herself after chasing Rhysand around. He had snatched the last lemon cake and laughed in her face. Thesan had been the one to heal her injured elbow with a gentle touch while her father glared at her. She wondered if her father had also been embarrassed by her behavior that night as she hadn’t been allowed to attend a High Lord gathering until tonight.

“Thank you.” Valeria replied, her head bowed in appreciation.

“I’m sure your father is proud.” Thesan added, casting a meaningful glance toward her father, who had now joined them.

His gaze, though still somewhat distant, was not as cold as he regarded his daughter.

“She has an upcoming solo in a month.”

Valeria blinked at her father, surprise etched on her features.

“What a shame,” Thesan lamented, his tone sincere. “I’m hosting a celebration for my Peregryns in a month. I would’ve loved for you to play for them.”

Valeria’s father hummed and she picked up on the hint. She excused herself politely. Though she knew her father’s demeanor was likely a result of Thesan’s presence, she couldn’t help but feel a glimmer of joy at his acknowledgement.

Valeria made her way to the desserts table, savoring the delightful taste of a chocolate covered strawberry. Her gaze swept the room, searching for her brother amidst the sea of faces.

“Well, aren’t you a lovely little sweet.”

Startled by the sudden presence behind her, she jumped slightly before turning her head to find the source of the voice. Her gaze fell upon a red-haired male, whose amber eyes watched her intently. He held an air of arrogance and entitlement as he extended his hand toward her.

“Would you care to dance?” He inclined his head to his left, where couples where swaying to the music.

“I’m busy.” Valeria replied, referring to the dessert in her hand.

She glared as he plucked the strawberry from her hand and popped the remaining piece into his mouth, all while sporting a smirk that seemed to mock her. He took her hand, without asking again, and led her to the dance floor.

His hand rested dangerously low against her back and was hot as it met her bare skin. The dress she chose tonight was a blue mermaid gown with a plunging neckline and open back design to accommodate her wings but she had chosen to glamor them. There was a fire in his eyes as he looked over her.

Valeria’s lips curled into a smirk of her own. She had seldom experienced the sensation of being desired. The Illyrians in Windhaven had steered clear of her after her fling with Damien–if one could even call it that. The three Illyrian males in her life were fiercely protective, effectively warding off any potential suitors. But here, things were different.

Though her heart longed for the desire of a specific male, she couldn’t deny the pleasure of feeling desired by others.

At that moment, recognition dawned on Valeria. The devilishly handsome male dancing with her was the eldest son of the High Lord of the Autumn Court and if the rumors in Prythian were true, he was in search of a bride.

“You must be Eris.” She said, her tone cool and composed.

The fire in his amber eyes was unyielding as he spun her around. His movements pressed her back against his chest, and he leaned down, his breath tickling her ear as he whispered: “I’m honored you know my name, sweets.”

With a twist, he spun her back around to face him, catching the crinkle of her nose in response to his nickname with a dark chuckle.

“It’s Valeria to you.” She corrected him with a firm tone.

Eris paused, his eyes set ablaze at the challenge, as he teased her further. “Valeria Vanserra has a nice ring to it, doesn’t it?”

In response, Valeria couldn’t help but laugh in disbelief. When she opened her mouth to offer another sly retort, another voice beat her to it.

The entire night was torture for Azriel.

It all started when he spotted Valeria in a striking dark blue fitted gown that hugged her every curve and exposed so much of her pretty sun kissed skin– Gods, she was beautiful. He wanted nothing more than to trace her curves and exposed skin with his hands while he tasted her pretty lips once more. He almost had this morning after sparring with her.

A warmth surged through him, almost as if he were staking a delusional claim, as he noticed the necklace he gifted her was wrapped sweetly around her neck, the moonstone gem resting right at the curves of her chest.

It had been hard for him to part from her side after dinner. He wanted to be the one to walk with her, dance with her. The desire to take her away and have her to himself was overwhelming but he could not afford to give in to it. He was bound by the High Lord’s orders, hovering around with his shadows dispersed, keeping an eye out for any suspicious activity. He managed to spare a couple of shadows to accompany Valeria, instructing them to keep a low profile with her and reach out to him immediately if anyone that wasn’t Rhysand or her mother touched her.

The torture had escalated with each passing moment as he noticed the increasing looks of interest sent her way. He had to summon every ounce of strength to keep his jealousy at bay, especially when he noticed that Valeria had attracted the attention of a red-haired male. Eris, heir to the Autumn court, his shadows happily filled in for him.

He watched with a tensed resolve, concealing the jealousy in his eyes behind the usual fierce and protective mask he wore. His gaze was unwavering as the Autumn Court male held her close, danced with her and when he made her laugh, he decided that was it. He was going to intervene. Perhaps, he would start by ripping the smirk off of Eris’s face.

“Eris.”

Valeria found herself being pulled away and into the chest of another. A protective arm wrapped around her shoulders and she looked up to find her brother–his actions betraying the cool and measured demeanor on his face.

Eris’s smirk widened, picking up on Rhysand’s frustration. “I can see why you keep her hidden now.”

“Stay away from my sister.”

Rhysand’s glare was not enough to communicate his disapproval of Eris’s sudden and unwelcome interest in his sister. He didn’t bother with formalities and without saying another word, he pulled her away from Eris.

Leaning in closer to Valeria, Rhysand spoke in a hushed voice. “I have someone I want you to meet,” he whispered as he guided her through the crowded gathering.

Valeria followed her brother, oblivious to the Shadowsinger that had been moments away from tearing the heir to the Autumn court into pieces. She was curious and somewhat relieved to leave behind the tense encounter with Eris, wondering why the Cauldron had decided to bestow Prythian with its fair share of wicked sons.

But perhaps not all of Prythian’s sons were wicked, she found herself thinking as Rhysand introduced her to a quiet blond male. He appeared around her age. His green eyes were innocent and kind–a dark contrast to his older brothers, who had glared at her during dinner earlier.

His name was Tamlin and a light blush rose to his cheeks as Valeria smiled at him.

Finally, in the comforts of her room, Valeria let out a sigh of relief as she leaned back against her door. The night had been a hurricane of emotions from all the interactions she had, some were welcomed and others draining. She had ended her night with Mor, who was finally able to escape from the grasps of her family as Eris and his father approached Keir. Rhysand had to unfortunately leave early. Their father wanted him to check up on a growing conflict between Windhaven and a neighboring camp first thing in the morning so he thought it’d be best if he stayed the night at their house in Windhaven.

Valeria made her way to her vanity, seating herself upon the soft cushion of its bench. She slowly unraveled her bun, allowing her long dark hair to fall into a sea of ebony waves.

She unclasped her earrings next and as she went to unclasp her necklace, her eyes widened with alarm at the figure she caught behind her in the reflection from the vanity’s mirror. She abruptly stood from her seat, her initial shock giving way and gaze softening as she recognized the figure.

“By the cauldron, Azriel, you nearly gave me a heart attack!“

Azriel was behind her within seconds and she caught sight of his heated gaze through the mirror. “My sentiments exactly,” he told her, his fingers brushing the thin strap of her dress. He rejoiced in the way it easily fell from her shoulders. “When I saw you wearing this dress.”

“I wore it for you.” Valeria confessed as heat rose to her cheeks. The blue shade of her dress perfectly matched his siphons.

“Is that so?” He hummed, his gaze not leaving her bare back.

He knew it was wrong to look at her the way he did. He knew that Rhysand would kill him if he saw the intent in his eyes but he had waited so long–six excruciating months– to finally have Valeria alone again and his shadows screamed at him to seize the opportunity. His hand then lightly grazed her back, tracing along the spot where her wings usually rested. Valeria shivered at his touch.

She turned around to face him and their eyes met, unspoken words between them as tension filled the air. Tension that had sparked between them since their first kiss. Tension that had lingered, waiting for the right kindling to ignite it once more. Tension that was set alight by their sparring this morning, further fueled by the exchanged glances during dinner. Tension that was no longer possible to ignore.

And then their lips were desperately crashing into each other in an ardent kiss.

They pulled each other close until their bodies were flush against one another, his shadows enveloping around the both of them. With Valeria’s arms wrapped around his neck, she slid her fingers through his soft dark hair and his slid to her hips, hoisting her up onto her vanity. Her legs instantly wrapped themselves around his waist and she pulled him even closer, feeling him harden against her and eliciting a groan from him that made a heat pool in her stomach.

He broke away from the kiss, resting his forehead against hers. His eyes were closed, his breathing fast and sharp. “Val,” he breathed her name so heavenly, despite the slight tremble in his body. “If we don’t stop now, I won’t be able to hold myself back.”

She knew she should stop him as they were both walking among a fine line but she couldn’t bring herself to. Not when Azriel was looking at her like she was the one who placed the stars in the sky.

“Good thing,” Valeria began, nudging her nose softly against his. “I don’t want you to stop.”

That was all the confirmation Azriel needed before he picked her up and placed her onto her bed. He was then claiming her lips again, darting his tongue along her bottom lip and she parted her lips for him, groaning into his mouth as his tongue caressed hers.

Azriel broke from the kiss and pulled on the dress that had left little to the imagination and an insatiable thirst for more. He was filled with a desperate desire to feel all of her against him. She arched into him, allowing him to undo the delicate laces and slide her dress off in one motion. He would’ve ripped it off her, if it hadn’t been one of her mother’s designs.

His breath hitched as he hovered over her, appreciating her beauty–the sight of her almost bare before him. Her moonstone necklace shimmered and was nestled deliciously right above her exposed breasts. “Gods, you’re so beautiful,” he breathed, allowing his shadows to caress her breasts, rejoicing in the way she shivered with pleasure.

She let out a moan as he lowered his mouth to one of her breasts and sucked on it, his tongue flicking against her nipple while his shadows continued to caress the other.

“Azriel.”

“Tell me,” he murmured against her soft skin. “Tell me what you want.”

“I want to be yours.” She breathed in reply.

He nearly moaned at her words, rapidly losing his resolve as the scent of her arousal hit him then. She pulled on his leathers, a silent request to take them off. He complied, disposing of his clothing until he was bare before her, his siphons landing on the floor with a thud. His cock sprang free, no longer restrained by his leathers and he took delight in the way her eyes grew wide, taken aback by his considerable length before they trailed their way up to the intricate tattoos on his chest.

Valeria wanted to kiss along his tattoos as she had desired to earlier in the morning but when she moved to sit up, Azriel stopped her. He pinned her back to the bed with a low growl. Her bare skin was so warm against his.

“You’re all mine.” He told her, echoing her wish from just moments ago, and then was grinding his hips against her clothed core in a teasing manner.

His lips trailed down her stomach until he hovered over the place she desperately needed him. He looked up once more at her. Although he told her he wouldn’t be able to hold himself back, he still sought her permission.

She gave a nod and he smirked at her, a devious glint in his hazel eyes.

“Words.” He teased her, brushing his nose against her core as her arousal flooded him, overwhelming all his senses. His eyes and the shadows around him darkened. “I need your words.”

“I need you.”

He tutted, not entirely satisfied. “Need me where?”

“By the cauldron Azriel, I need you to fuck me.” She cried out desperately, her words making his cock throb almost painfully and before he could tease her further, she added: “With your tongue, fingers, cock. Do as you wish, I’m all yours."

“Gods, you have such a dirty mouth on you.” He replied as he slid her underwear off, imagining all the things her dirty mouth was capable of. He hooked her legs to rest on either side of his wings. “Where did you learn such vulgar things?”

Books, she had meant to reply but she was set ablaze and at a loss for words at the first lick of his tongue. A soft whimper escaped from her and he unleashed himself, eagerly devouring her and drawing out more moans that were like music to his ears. Her fingers found themselves entangled in his hair again and she writhed beneath him. Azriel placed a firm grip on her hips, smirking against her as her thighs trembled against him. He could tell she was close.

Wanting nothing more than to hear her lose herself completely to him, he slid his tongue into her and allowed his shadows to caress her everywhere, wanting to touch every inch of her skin and discover her most sensitive areas. Her breasts, her neck, her clit.

“Azriel.”

Another low growl erupted from deep in his chest at the way she moaned his name. It was lovely and it felt so right.

“Come on, princess.” He purred, pressing a kiss to her clit before kissing his way up her thigh. He replaced his tongue with his finger, slowly easing his way with one until eventually, he was pumping three inside her. He left trails of her essence all over her body as he continued to make his way up. “Let go for me.”

Azriel’s lips were pressed against her neck when the heat pooled in her stomach tightened and then her core was pulsing around his fingers as she came, waves of pleasure flooding all of her senses. He pulled away from her neck, watching as her body arched into his and trembled with a soft glow.

Azriel had never beheld anything more exquisite than this–than her coming apart under his touch. His gaze lingered on her for a moment, engraving the sweet image into his mind. An image that he would savor for centuries.

A finger traced over the sensitive curve of his wing, pulling him out of his trance and it was his turn to moan her name. He felt her other hand on his cheek and he leaned in to it, savoring her touch. He allowed her to take control for a moment as she guided his lips to hers. She could taste herself on his lips.

Another whimper escaped from him, his eyes fluttering close when he felt her finger brush the curve of his wing again. Her movements were agonizingly slow as she trailed her finger down and his breath hitched as they brushed against his hard length before wrapping themselves around it. He placed his hand over hers before she could continue. She had barely touch him but he could feel his release quickening already.

When he opened his eyes, his pupils were blown, their darkness honing in on her. A darkness she wanted to dive further into. “Please.” Valeria begged against his lips.

His forehead rested against hers and his breath fanned her face. He knew what she was asking for but there would be no going back from this. He wanted to make sure that she still wanted this, still wanted him.

“Are you sure?” He pulled away from her lips to allow her to answer, leaning his cheek against her hand once more, his eyes looking straight into hers.

“Yes.” Her voice was so sure as she held his gaze. It caused something in his chest to rise and flutter madly. “I want you to be my first.”

Overwhelmed by the surge of emotions, he found himself unable to suppress his feelings. Yes, he desired her, but it went beyond physical attraction. He yearned for more than just her body. He desperately and selfishly wanted her heart too.

“I don’t just want to be your first.” He told her, pressing a soft kiss into the palm of her hand. “I want to be the only one.”

“Yes, yes.” She nodded her head at him and though her eyes were clouded with lust, she genuinely meant it. She yearned to be his and his only. Heart and soul. “You’re all I can think about.”

“Gods, you’ll be my ruin.” He uttered a sigh as he fisted his cock. He rubbed his length along her entrance, coating it with her arousal before sliding the tip in.

Valeria let out a gasp as he slowly pushed himself further. His hands found hers, intertwining their fingers together and resting them on either side of her head. He sweetly kissed the tears from her eyes and stilled inside her, allowing her to adjust to his size. Blood pounded through his body, his heart surging with fervor as she felt so heavenly wrapped around him tightly.

He’d imagined this moment before, on nights where his thoughts were consumed with her. He’d imagine what noises she’d make, what she’d feel like, how she’d beg for him. To finally have her like this, it surpassed his wildest dreams.

And when she was begging for him to move, he happily obliged.

“You’re taking me so well.” He praised as he thrusted into her, slow and hard, all the way until his hips were flushed against hers. "Fuck, you're so perfect."

His thrusts grew quicker and harder, his shadows frenzied around him as he continued to draw out her pleasure. She was a sobbing mess beneath him. When he felt her pulsing around him, he sent a shadow to rub against her clit while his lips claimed hers. She moaned lewdly into his mouth.

His pace picked up, pounding into her mercilessly as their scents merged as one. His grip on her hands tightened as his hips stuttered into her. She tilted her head back, their kiss now all tongue and barely lips as she tightened around him.

Release tore through their bodies and when their eyes met, they were a beautiful and panting mess.

Through the window, the moon's soft embrace casted a gentle glow, illuminating her face as his shadows lingered behind him, admiring her beauty. She was the radiant light, and he, the comforting darkness. They existed in an unspoken unity.

She held his heart, and he, unreservedly, belonged to her.

***

tag list: @justrepostandlove , @kemillyfreitas, @thelov3lybookworm

a/n: I was inspired by a comment @kemillyfreitas made on one of the imagines and decided that if her father won't show her love, at least Thesan will. I have a soft spot for the high lord of dawn <3

I contemplated so much about this moment between Az and Val because it was definitely going to happen. It was just a matter of when. I wanted to save it for the actual storyline but ultimately, thought it was best for it to happen much sooner. They are aware that there's something special between them (Az more so than Val) but instead of letting words/reason guide them, they're being guided by their feelings and desire. also, if things are unclear or you would like clarification on some things, feel free to ask. I'll answer them happily!

songs I listened to while writing this on repeat: kingdom fall by claire wyndham, i wanna be yours by arctic monkeys if you couldn't tell by the dialogue lol, feels like by gracia abrahams. I did make a playlist for songs I listen to while I write. I want to incorporate some of the lyrics into the imagines.

#azriel x oc #azriel smut #azriel #azriel shadowsinger #azriel imagine #acotar fanfiction #acotar imagine #rhysand's sister #rhysand's sister x azriel #acotar #acosm #azriel x reader

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coffeebanana · 1 year

Text

This was supposed to be for the Ladrien June prompt "morning", but I didn't feel like waiting another week or so 😂.

Excerpt:

[CW for grief/mourning and recent character death (Gabriel)]

Adrien cleared his throat. "I...ran into Chat Noir outside. He said he had to go, but he told me..." He took a deep breath, continuing in a whisper. "I know my father's dead." It was the first time he'd said it out loud, and the words came out surprisingly clear. It was only afterwards, when they hung in the awkward silence following Ladybug's sharp intake of air, that he felt like they were eating him from the inside out. Ladybug's grip tightened. "I'm sorry, Adrien. I'm so sorry."

Read on Ao3, or under the cut!! 💜

The rising sun hit Adrien's back as he forced his front door open, its light casting an eerie glow over the mansion’s battle-torn foyer. Half the ceiling was caved in. The staircase was all but destroyed. And scraps of metal amongst the wreckage glinted gold, like the dying embers of a fire. Like the end of an era.

It wasn't the victory it should have been.

As the door slipped from his fingers, Adrien squeezed his eyes shut and stopped to take a few steadying breaths—a dangerous idea. Police officers were still on site, gathering evidence amidst the wreckage. One of them could easily notice him, and then he might get stuck answering their questions. He needed to move. He needed to remember the simple instructions he'd outlined for himself before walking back inside.

Sneak into the kitchen. Grab food for Plagg. Get out.

Run.

He could cover his tracks later. It wouldn't be too hard to find an excuse for Ladybug as to why Chat Noir hadn't come back after he allegedly went outside to recharge. It would definitely be easier than facing her as his civilian self—as Monarch's son—right now.

But hesitation had cost him. "Adrien?"

Ladybug.

Unable to reply or to so much as glance in her direction, Adrien stared resolutely at a piece of rubble by his feet—a piece which he thought used to be part of the bannister. Tears burned the corner of his eyes, but he did his best to blink them away.

He tensed when he heard her approach, something he wouldn't have noticed so quickly if it weren't for the debris scattered about. Any other day, her footsteps would have barely made a sound against the marble floors.

Too soon, her feet stopped in front of him. He struggled to keep his breaths even, fighting to remain upright when it felt like the entire world was closing in around him.

"I...I thought you were at Nino's," she said.

Had he told her that? He barely remembered any of the excuses he'd made last night. It was hard to recall much aside from how he'd awoken a few hours earlier to find his father's body splayed unnaturally across the floor, his vacant stare somehow still bearing traces of disappointment.

The ambulance had pulled away maybe an hour ago, with no sirens to accompany its departure.

Adrien only realized Ladybug was probably waiting for a response when she grabbed his hand, pulling him back to the present with a gentle squeeze. His stomach swirled. Couldn't she have reached for his other side?

She deserved better than the hand he'd used to destroy his own father.

When he finally managed to look up, he only felt worse seeing the sympathy in her eyes. He quickly looked back to his feet, panic drowning out any response he tried to cobble together in his head.

"Has anyone told you what happened?" she asked.

Adrien almost said no—which would be the truth, technically. Nobody had told him, unless he counted the clarifications Plagg had provided after the fact, details of what occurred after Ladybug and Chat Noir fell victim to Monarch's Akuma. Part of him wondered how Ladybug would tell the story, which parts would she soften or leave out. He wondered what she really thought.

But maybe it was better not to know.

Adrien cleared his throat. "I...ran into Chat Noir outside. He said he had to go, but he told me..." He took a deep breath, continuing in a whisper. "I know my father's dead."

It was the first time he'd said it out loud, and the words came out surprisingly clear. It was only afterwards, when they hung in the awkward silence following Ladybug's sharp intake of air, that he felt like they were eating him from the inside out.

Ladybug's grip tightened. "I'm sorry, Adrien. I'm so sorry."

His gut coiled tightly with some unbearable emotion. He tried to think up something else to say, lips parting as he raised his head to look at her. But the second he met her eyes—so wide and blue and sad—speaking was a lost cause.

His lips quivered. A sob clawed its way up his throat, tugging another one up behind it before the first had even broken free. Ladybug's hand rubbed up and down his arm, and that was all the encouragement he needed to finally release the tsunami inside him.

Adrien had killed his own father.

For months he'd been suffering. Adrien had assumed, when Monarch reappeared from his brief hiatus, that he was okay. That the Cataclysm hadn't been fatal. Instead he'd had a front row seat to his demise—to all the times he cried out in pain while cooking breakfast, trying to pretend everything was fine whenever Adrien noticed.

But if it weren't for that Cataclysm, if Monarch's health hadn't been weakened, then the world might have ended a few hours ago, torn apart and rebuilt in his father’s image. With his parents and Nathalie still alive.

How was he meant to feel about that?

He didn't even know where he was supposed to sleep tonight.

But at least Ladybug didn't hate him. At least he still had one friend in this crazy, twisted world.

She pulled him into her arms as he broke down in tears, as he crumpled like the ceiling and shattered like the windows. As he was reduced to nothing but a shaky foundation, to the dying embers of who he used to be.

Adrien and his cold, lonely home finally had something in common.

...

"Here you go," Ladybug said, sliding a mug of tea across the kitchen counter as she settled onto the stool beside him.

Adrien wrapped his hands around the mug. The water was still too hot, but it took him a few seconds to notice. By the time he loosened his grip, his fingers already stung.

"Thanks," he croaked, his throat raw from crying. He wasn't really the biggest fan of tea, but it had seemed to make Ladybug feel better having some way to help him.

The least he could do was pretend she'd succeeded.

For a while they sat in silence. Adrien stared blankly at his tea, vaguely aware of how Ladybug kept shifting around like she couldn't get comfortable.

"Do you...have any questions?" she asked eventually.

He shook his head. None of his questions were for the living.

"Well," she said, "if you think of any later...I'd be happy to answer if I can. And if there's anything else I can do..." She reached out slowly to touch his shoulder, and it was all he could do not to shake her off. "Is there anywhere you'd like to go? Someone you'd like to see?"

Adrien fiddled with the string of his tea bag, watching it bob up and down. "Am I even allowed?"

"What do you mean?"

"To leave."

"Why wouldn't you be?" When he shrugged, her hand slipped from his shoulder. She slid her stool closer. "Adrien, you're not in trouble. Nobody thinks you had anything to do with any of this."

Maybe they should.

Adrien swallowed. "But...don't I have to talk to a social worker or something?"

"Oh. I, um...I don't know. I guess so, but there's nobody here right now, so...I don't think anyone would mind if I took you somewhere else to wait."

He nodded slowly, hand moving automatically to his pocket. He shifted to pull out the lucky charm he kept there, wrapping his fingers tightly around it. "Maybe I could go to my girlfriend's house."

"That sounds like a great idea," Ladybug said, jumping to her feet. "Let's go!"

Adrien remained glued in his seat, his stomach swirling. Seeing Marinette probably would make him feel better—at least on the surface. But how long could that last? Hiding his identity hadn't really come between them since they'd gotten together, but this was different. How could he hide the worst thing he'd ever done?

But what if he told her and she never looked at him the same way?

Ladybug's stool scraped against the floor as she sat back down, and she sounded upset when she spoke. "Do you not want to go?"

Adrien set the lucky charm on the table and watched the beads blur behind fresh tears. "I'm...scared."

"Why?"

"Because...what if Marinette sees me differently."

"Do you really believe she would?" Ladybug asked in a small voice.

He thought for a moment. "No? I don't know. Probably not, but...she could."

She grabbed his hand, and when he glanced her way there was an intensity in her eyes he couldn't interpret. "I'm sure she won't."

"You can't know that."

"But I do! I—she loves you, right?"

Adrien's stomach clenched, but he managed a nod as a hot tear rolled down his cheek.

"Exactly!" Ladybug said, gesturing nonsense with her free hand. "So there!"

He mustered a small smile for her enthusiasm, but it was short-lived. "It doesn't matter," he said, wiping his eyes. "Things are different now."

"Sure. But...that doesn't mean everything has to change, right?"

He didn't answer, trying to ignore the feelings swirling inside him by poking at his tea bag again. The water was cool enough now that it didn't hurt when he accidentally dipped his finger in, but the idea of actually taking a sip and swallowing seemed foreign. So he kept staring at it until a sniffle came from beside him. He turned to see Ladybug with one hand covering her mouth, tears trickling down her cheeks.

"My lady?" he said without thinking, reaching over to set a hand on her shoulder. Panic spiked through him when he realized what he'd called her, but she didn't seem to notice.

"I'm sorry!" she cried. "I didn't mean to...I'm f-fine! It's just that you—I just want to help you! But maybe I c-can't. And it's not f-fair, that you're hurting. And..."

Her next words were drowned out by a sob. She slumped down on the table, hiding her face in her arms. All Adrien could do was sit there rubbing her back until she calmed down, at which point she pushed herself up slowly, wiping her eyes.

"I'm sorry I let this happen," she said.

"What?" Adrien replayed her words in his head, certain he'd misunderstood. "It wasn't your fault."

"It was my job to stop Monarch from making the wish, and I...failed. Even if he didn't succeed...someone's still paying the price."

"That's ridiculous." It was his fault.

"Adrien, it's fine. You don't have to..." She drew in a shaky breath. "If you're mad at me, I understand."

None of the morning had felt real, but now Adrien was sure he must be caught in some sort of alternate reality.

Maybe the wish had worked. Maybe his mother would walk into the kitchen at any moment.

If only.

"That makes no sense," Adrien said slowly, still trying to wrap his head around things. "If anything, it's Chat Noir's fault."

Ladybug's eyes went wide. "Did he tell you that?"

How was he meant to answer that? "Not...exactly. But he told me about the Cataclysm, and—"

"Please don't blame him for that. I know he feels terrible enough already."

"Because Monarch's dead thanks to him. It's his fault!"

"It's not," Ladybug pleaded. "He was just following my plan, and Monarch caught us off guard, and then..."

"But...but you..." Adrien trailed off, his body shaking.

He didn't know what to say, because technically Ladybug was right. But he didn't blame her at all, and he certainly didn't want her blaming herself.

"It was my fault," he said, knowing it was true. He felt it with every inch of his body, with every useless breath he took.

The guilt consumed him.

"Adrien," Ladybug breathed. "It's absolutely not your fault. How could you even think that?"

Only once he processed her words did he recognize his own misstep. But she hadn't caught on yet. He could still walk this back.

But he wasn't sure he wanted to.

This secret took too energy much to hide.

"It was me,” he said shakily. “It was my..."

He couldn't finish the sentence. He could barely even breathe. But he could see in Ladybug’s eyes that she still didn't understand, so he raised his hand to mimic the motion, stretching out his fingers the way he would if he'd really called on his power. He tried to mouth the word too, but he wasn't really sure his lips obeyed. Slowly, he lowered his hand to the counter, letting it collapse into a fist when he made contact.

Cataclysm.

He watched as realization slowly dawned on her. Then she blinked hard, shaking her head as if trying to dismiss the idea. But her eyes flew to the ring on his hand, widening further.

“Chat Noir?”

"I did this," he said in a broken whisper. "I killed him."

"Oh, Chaton. No." Ladybug stood, wrapping her arms around him. "It was an accident. It's not your fault."

Adrien thought that maybe, if he kept taking breaths so small they barely counted, if he let his mind float away the way it had been threatening to do all morning, then maybe—maybe—he could keep from crying again. But Ladybug rested her head on his shoulder, her warm breath ruffling his T-shirt. And that was all it took for him to come apart again.

...

They ended up on the floor, wedged between both stools. Adrien wasn't sure if he'd fallen off his seat at some point or if Ladybug had carried him here. He didn't care. As long as he could keep lying here with his head in Ladybug's lap and her fingers in his hair, he could somehow keep the guilt at bay. He could stop it from devouring him whole.

But he couldn't stay here forever.

Marinette's lucky charm was clenched in his fist again, and he was afraid to let go.

"Should I tell her?" Adrien asked.

"Hm?"

"Marinette. Should I..." He closed his eyes. "Do you think she'd hate me if I told her the truth?"

Ladybug let out a shaky breath, her fingers freezing in his hair. "She won't hate you. And...yes. I think you should tell her."

"Okay. Maybe I will."

"How about this?" Ladybug said. "If she breaks up with you, I'll date you instead."

Adrien managed some semblance of a laugh. "What about your boyfriend?”

“Mmm." She twisted another strand of hair around her finger. "Somehow I don’t think he’ll mind.”

“All right then. It’s a deal.”

Her offer was a joke—he knew that. But somehow it still felt like a promise.

"Would you...like me to take you to her now?”Ladybug asked. “I still can, if you want."

"Maybe." He thought of the bakery. Of Tom and Sabine's welcoming smiles, the smell of croissants, and being wrapped up in one of Marinette's hugs. It sounded nice. "Give me five more min—" He broke off in a yawn.

Ladybug laughed. "Or you can get some sleep first." Her voice was gentle and steady and safe. "I'll stay with you."

He tried to reply, but his words were engulfed by another yawn. So he settled for mumbling his agreement, squeezing the lucky charm to his chest, and letting his eyes flutter closed.

Maybe in his dreams, the world wouldn't hurt so much.

#miraculous ladybug #coffeebanana fics #ladrien #angst #hurt/comfort #cw grief #cw character death #miraculeakless #adrien agreste #ladybug #marinette dupain cheng #long post #season 5 compliant (up to what's aired so far aka episode 20)

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brucewaynehater101 · 19 days

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I hc Damian sees dick as more of a father then Bruce, my reasoning is that when Bruce was dead, dick was there for him and Damian already mourned that father and accepted dick as his dad.

and since in my brain Bruce causes most of the issues between the brothers, in a au where Bruce wasn’t rescued all the bats are happy and friendly to each other, dick is the older brother who’s basically their dad, Jason who’s very caring yet also insists he’s not (he has anger issues as well), Tim who can’t seem to fully grasp how much everyone cares for him but it’s getting better, and Damian who actually acts his age and not like a 20 year old man with murder problems (he still has murder issues but dicks made him realize that’s wrong)

There was probably quite a bit of an adjustment period in the beginning. When siblings are faced with a change in dynamics so that they need to rely upon each other instead of being pitted against one another, there tend to be big blowups and fights until they get the hang of things.

In this AU, it would be a bit hard to wrangle all the batkids into getting along. Does Tim never find that portrait that starts his search? Did Bruce actually die? Does Alfred find the portrait first and burn it so his family can finally be free (very ooc, but a cool concept)?

Tim finding out Bruce is alive is like a match near gasoline for him. He destroys all of his current relationships (justified or not) to save his dad.

There's also the grief aspect. The Battle of the Cowl could be seen as just the kids trying to find footing with the changes and the grief of loosing their dad.

It doesn't matter how much of a bastard Bruce is in this AU, the kids will still grieve his loss. If he was just unredeemable, they wouldn't have hung on so much. It doesn't matter how much Bruce hits them, verbally abuses them, manipulates, or abandons them when he turns around and acts like a good dad. He has good moments. That's the confusing and complicated aspect of it.

Bruce is the type of man to remember a fact his kids mentioned once off-handedly and distracted. He'd remember when they mentioned a childhood toy they loved but could never find again. He would spend months tracking down that company and hiring them to make they toy again if they didn't have any on hand. There's so much time, effort, and money he would put into such a notion, and he wouldn't make a big deal about it. The kid would probably just find it in their room one day and know it was Bruce.

Then he would turn around and try to convince the kid that all of their friends are out to get them and they can't trust anyone.

This AU would be hard to manage because only Dick is at the stage where he would be willing to give up on his dad. With the fallout of Robin, Dick moved on from unconditional love and belief in Bruce. He went to anger and hurt. He slowly healed those pains, but they were changed. Dick couldn't go back to how they were, but ultimately still loved his dad. Jason's death shattered their relationship. Even after Tim interfered, Dick would never be able to forgive Bruce for that. In the comics, he confronted Bruce about not being told about Jason's death. Bruce's response? He screamed at Dick, hit him, told him he shoulf have never had a partner, told Dick that he would've fired Jason in a few years like he did Dick, and then told Dick to hand his keys to the Manor to Alfred on his way out.

Bruce and Dick can go to therapy for years to work on their relationship, but Dick will never trust Bruce with his siblings again. He can trust the man on a battlefield, but he can't trust him at home.

Dick's love to Bruce, I hc, would turn to apathy, longing, and bitterness intermingled with spurts of reluctant fondness.

Jason, on the other hand, is pissed at Bruce, but he has too much passion to just let him go. It's a transition stage from love to anger to indifference. Through his reactions and actions during the Battle of the Cowl, it's obvious he still cares about Bruce somewhat. The opposite of love isn't hate. It's indifference. If he didn't somewhat care about Bruce, his death wouldn't impact him so much. I personally feel that the incident with Penguin and Gotham Wars is where Jason starts to become indifferent instead. To hate Bruce is to want to change him. It's to want him to be better because you know he can be. To be indifferent to him (outside of horrible actions the man commits) is to know he won't change. It's to give up on him.

Jason still remembers getting ice cream on patrol, sharing popcorn on the couch, reassuring promises of protection, and the laughter he could startle out of his dad. His anger and aggression against Bruce is because he believes that his dad could kill the Joker. He had believed that Bruce would have. Regardless on whether it was the right thing to do or whether a younger version would have wanted that, Jason had faith in Bruce. He ultimately considers his father to be a good guy. Perhaps someone that hurts Jason, but still a good guy.

Dick doesn't regard his father as such. He knows better.

The other kids are still at the love stage, where they rely on Batman and Bruce to be decent and a hero.

Tim may have complicated feelings about Bruce being his dad (how credible that is especially given their history), but he trusts Bruce to make the right decisions. That gospel has been shaken a few times, but it still holds.

Damian is still a child. Capable, kind, fierce, and strong, but still a child.

Cass was given the mission of the Bat by Bruce. He has shown her love and kindness others have not. She can see what he feels and intends to do even as he hurts others. He does not kill.

Barbara has Dick's back before she has Bruce's. Barbara is independent. She does not have the confidence in Bruce that the others do.

I hope Duke is enjoying his time with his parents free from bat drama.

Anyways, I do think the Bats would be better off if Tim hadn't found proof of Bruce's continued existence (it is not his fault that Bruce returned to do horrible shit. He is not to blame). Without it, there might not have been as big of a fallout between Tim and everyone else. There would have been lots of drama and fights between the remaining Bats, but they would eventually settle into a healthier unit.

If anyone wants more about any of this, feel free to send me another ask with what parts you'd like elaborated.

#dc comics #dc universe #dick grayson #jason todd #tim drake #damian wayne #bruce wayne #batfam #thank you for the ask!!!!

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humblequestvinyl · 5 months

Text

growing sideways

GROWING SIDEWAYS, FISHER BROTHERS X SISTER!READER

APART OF THE ‘WE’LL ALL BE HERE FOREVER’ SERIES

SUMMARY: when the unexpected happens and laurel shows up at the summer house, y/n fisher is confronted with more than just trying to keep the summer house from being sold.

inspired by growing sideways by noah kahan

◀ ⏸ ▶

lowercase is intentional! wc: 1.8k

warnings: mention of underage drinking, deep grief, mentions of not eating, swearing, depression, throwing up & broken promises (literally just sibling banter but you know!)

a/n: guys i got accepted into college who cheered. anyway i have been grinding on school work i promise i didn’t forget about this series & my tumblr account! i also didn't proof read this sorry

WAKING UP IN THE MORNING WITH A MASSIVE HANGOVER WAS SOMETHING Y/N WAS QUICKLY BECOMING ACCUSTOMED TO,

and she wasn’t sure if she liked it or not.

except this morning, she woke up to a quiet knock on her door, and the h/c laid still hoping whoever it was would just go away. however, she knew she was screwed as soon as the door opened, and her bed dipped.

“n/n you’ve gotta get up.”conrad told the girl, seeing her breathing still for a moment before trying to go back to normal, “i’m serious y/n, laurel’s here and she wants to talk to you.”

it was silent for a few moments before y/n made slight movement, curling up into a ball, not really wanting to leave her spot for the day unless she had to, “why is laurel here?”

“apparently you were so drunk that you called her and left her a voicemail sobbing about how dad was selling the house, how you fought with emerson and how i was going to miss my exams.”conrad explained, and everything from the night before had hit y/n all at once.

the fight with emerson, the call to laurel, the endless amount of alcohol she had, and the fact that they were about to lose the house she called her first home.

“i’m gonna be sick.”y/n muttered before rushing towards the bathroom where her eldest brother held her hair back, with a frown spread across his face knowing everything was about to get a lot worse.

one she was finished, jeremiah walked in with a bottle of water for the girl. she took slow sips, quietly thanking her brother for the bottle before jere leaned up against the door frame of the bathroom, watching his little sister with slight worry.

“is dad down there too?”y/n questioned, and the two shook their heads, “good, i don’t have the energy to fight with him today.”

“he left about an hour ago.”jere told her, and she hummed, leaning her head up against the wall, wanting nothing more than to go back to sleep.

“c’mon, if you go talk to laurel, you, jere, belly, steven and i will go to denny’s after to get breakfast.”conrad told the girl hoping it would at least get her willingly downstairs, “it’ll help with the hangover.”

“you promise?”y/n questioned, staring up at conrad with slight hope he’d actually take her.

“have i ever broken a promise with you before?”conrad questioned with a slight chuckle as he helped his sister up, and the fisher brothers walked the girl downstairs, making sure she wasn’t going to fall.

“when i was eleven you pinky promised you’d get me cotton candy on the boardwalk but that never happened.”y/n told him with a slight frown as they finally made it to the bottom of the stairs, and into the kitchen where they sat laurel cleaning up the breakfast that she had made for their father.

“i’ll get you some the next time we’re there.”he told her, guiding her towards one of the barstools, and the two brothers gave laurel a smile, “she’s all yours.”

y/n watched as her brothers walked outside before her eyes drifted back to laurel who had a soft smile spread across her face, placing a glass of orange juice in front of her. she watched as laurel sat across from her, and she studied the woman who she considered like a second mother to her. the bags under her eyes were darker, and stress radiated off the woman but she still looked calm as ever.

“how are you doing?”laurel asked the girl, breaking the silence between the two as y/n gently sipped on the orange juice, glancing up at laurel, “is that a rhetorical question?”

“no, it’s a serious one.”

“well, i’m sitting here at the beach house trying to cope with the fact that we’re losing said beach house and my mom is dead.”y/n stated plainly, before plastering a sarcastic smile across her face, “how are you doing laurel?”

“well for starters i’m worried about you.”laurel told the girl in front of her as she continued to sip on the juice, “you scared the shit out of me with that phone call.”

“i’m sorry.”y/n mumbled as she finished the juice, and placed the glass into the sink, “i won’t call when i’m drunk.”

“it’s not even that kiddo,”laurel turned towards the h/c girl, trying her best to keep the situation calm, “connie texted me a few weeks ago saying they couldn’t find you for a bit, and then to get the voicemail you left last night, i’m worried about you.”

“well you shouldn’t be because i’m fine.”y/n stated as her lips pressed into a thin line, leaning up against the counted to look at laurel to try and convince her that everything was fine, “i’m breathing, i’m eating-”

“but you’re not.”laurel cut her off, catching y/n by surprise, “conrad and jeremiah don’t remember the last time you willingly ate without them having to force you to have something, and they’re telling me you’re not sleeping unless you’re drunk.”

“this isn’t healthy y/n.”she told the girl who looked at her in shock, not knowing that laurel had known, “you and i both know it.”

“but it works.”y/n whispered, knowing laurel was right. it wasn’t healthy but it was the only aspect in her life she had control over right now, and if she had her way, it was going to stay exactly like that.

“it doesn’t work y/n! if you seriously don’t stop drinking soon and eating more you’re going to end up in the hospital!”laurel exclaimed, and y/n watched her as she stood up and walked towards the girl, “i’m serious y/n this has got to stop.”

“this is the only thing i have control over right now.”the h/c girl admitted as tears brimmed her eyes, “the only fucking thing i have control over right now.”

“and it’s under control.”she lied, trying to keep her tears at bay knowing as soon as they slipped out, she’d completely break, “if you guys want me to start eating more then fine, i’ll start eating more.”

“but for fucks sake laurel, let me have this one thing.”y/n begged and laurel shook her head and she wrapped the girl in a tight hug, and she completely broke.

“i can’t kiddo and you know that.”laurel told the girl softly, her heart breaking for the girl she watched grown up come crashing down right in front of her, “you can do this n/n, you’ve got connie, jere, your dad-”

“but i don’t!”y/n spoke in between sobs, clutching onto the woman like she was the only person she had left, “dad hates me, connies at college, i can barely even talk with jere anymore since mom died and i pushed emmy so far away i doubt she’ll want to talk to me.”

“i’ve got nobody laurel.”

laurel pulled back from the hug, cupping the h/c girl cheeks, wiping away some of the stray tears that fell as y/n tried to hold off her sobs as long as she could.

“you’ve got me.”laurel told the girl, and y/n started to shake her head before laurel stopped her, “i know i’ve been absent since your mom died and i’m sorry for that. but i promise you y/n you’re never losing me.”

“and if that means you need me to come stay for the weekend or call me at midnight about something then do it.”the woman explained, and y/n nodded slowly, “but seriously y/n, you’ve gotta stop doing what you’re doing because it’s not healthy.”

“promise me you’ll at least try to stop.”laurel begged, and y/n nodded as her lip wobbled, threatening to unload more tears, “i promise.”

“and if you need anything i need you to call me.”she reminded the young girl, knowing there had been so many instances within the last two months that the girl didn’t call when she should’ve, but she also knew that laurel was graveling with her grief as well.

it was a few moments before either of them spoke up, having no words to be said before a thought popped into the h/c girl’s head, “what are we going to do about the house?”

laurel gave the girl a soft smile, one that instantly gave the fisher girl comfort, “you’re going to do absolutely nothing. it is all taken care of.”

“connie and jere will talk to you about it when you all go out to breakfast.”the woman told the girl just as they saw belly stick her head into the doorway with a slight smile on her face.

“you guys okay?”the girl asked, and y/n nodded, wiping away the remaining tears that streamed down her face, “if you’re all set we’re about to head out for breakfast.”

“go.”laurel told y/n, before the girl walked towards belly, and belly had the widest smile she had seen in awhile.

“almost ready to grab some breakfast?”belly questioned, and y/n nodded before the two walked out to conrad's car, leaving the girl replaying the entire conversation in her head.

the five split up into two cars, with belly going with jeremiah and steven, while y/n and conrad had gone in another.

as they drove off, taylor swift played softly in the background as y/n had her back turned to conrad, not really wanting to talk about anything in that moment after the emotional turmoil she had just went through.

when they finally arrived at dennys, they were the first ones there, and conrad shut the car off before turning to where y/n had been curled up.

“dad’s not selling the cousin’s house.”conrad finally spoke up, causing the girl’s head to whip around to look at her brother, “we’re keeping the house.”

“how?”y/n questioned as shock filled the girl, and she could see the smile spreading across his face, “laurel’s a miracle worker.”

“dad is going to sell the house in boston and you guys are going to move into the cousins house.”he explained, and conrad could finally see some sparkle come back into his sisters eyes.

“we’re staying in cousins.”

#conrad fisher x reader #conrad fisher #conrad fisher angst #jeremiah fisher x reader #susannah fisher #the summer i turned pretty #the summer i turned pretty angst #belly conklin x reader #belly conklin #we'll all be here forever series #jeremiah fisher angst #jeremiah fisher imagine #conrad fisher imagine #tsitp conrad #conrad fisher x sister!reader #jeremiah fisher x sister!reader

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