#'died before you could marry the love of your life? AFTER you were unwillingly pulled out of retirement!?'

[hypewinter]

Danny was helping in processing new ghosts for the afterlife when he came across a young man. Considering the costume it was obvious that he was a hero who had died saving the world. After inquiry, the young man explained that he had died because he couldn't keep up with the speed of his relatives but he would do it all again. Even if it meant leaving his friends and girlfriend behind. The sadness of the situation weighed on Danny too much so he decided to bend the rules a little just this once. After all, what was the point of being High King of the Infinite Realms if he couldn't overstep the regulations on occasion. Besides, if it were really so bad, Clockwork would probably pop in to warn him.

#dp x dc #dc x dp #dpxdc #dcxdp #hyper prompts #danny's a sucker for a good sob story #and boy does wally deliver #'died before you could marry the love of your life? AFTER you were unwillingly pulled out of retirement!?' #'no sir we can't have that'

[lixiepeach]

Red Moon, Part 22

Summary: Hana’s life was planned out perfectly. She would marry the pack alpha, become Luna and do her duties. But the appearance of a mysterious stranger turns her life inside out she finds herself outcast and alone. Will she find her new home in Chan and his pack of strays? Will she find what she’s been looking for all along in the mysterious alpha? Or will everything crumble under her again?

Warnings: A ritual, some blood, sexual content

A/N: Yeah, that was fast, but i had most of this written already. 

Part 21 | MASTERLIST

Hana secures the hair tie around the end of her braid. Hyunjin had recommended wearing it pulled back to keep it out of the way. The white dress fits her nicely, and it does make her boobs look good. Chan loved her boobs. He had slept last night with his face buried between them. She was worried he’d suffocate but he had told her if that was how he died then he would die happy. 

She hadn’t seen him all day, waking up for the first time in a while alone. It had been a bit bittersweet, but she knew there was a lot to do before tonight. She would see him plenty after the sun set. 

It was that time now, the sky darkening to purple as the sun sets. They had an hour before the moon started to rise, when the ritual would start. Normally there would be the older women of the pack helping her, Hyunjin said. The mated wives that would prepare her for this next step. Not unlike a human wedding, she thought. But the similarities ended there. The human way was modest and boring. Tonight would be messy and carnal. Barbaric, the humans would call it. 

The thought is already making her slick between her thighs. 

It was a good thing. Any unwillingness could upset the bond. Their life would be tumultuous if that happened. If any member of the pack was in disagreement it could upset the bond. It was a delicate process which is why most large packs abandoned this ritual. It made sense why Mountainside abandoned it. Forcing omegas to mate unwillingly spelled trouble for everyone. If she had stayed, been forced to mate with Dong-Ho...

But she hadn’t. She was here, now, being properly mated to her real mate with a pack that loved her. A pack she loved. This was what mattered. Not what could have happened. 

Hana takes a breath before opening the bathroom door. Minho is there, waiting for her. He looks her over as she steps out, giving her a smile. 

“You look great.” He’s dressed in all black, like the others. 

They would stay faded into the background, less of a distraction though Hana’s sure keeping quiet will be hard for them. They were loud, raucous wolves by nature. She loves that about them. There was never a dull moment with her boys around. 

“Nervous?” He asks her, taking her hands. 

She nods. “Yeah. But I'm also excited.” 

“You’ll be okay.” He strokes her cheek for a moment. “Chan will take care of you.” 

*********

“It might be a bit painful.” Hyunjin says, grinding the stones with the pestle. “An intense, overwhelming feeling at first. It’s going to force a shift. It’ll probably feel a bit like your first shift. Chan will be there, guiding you. I have stuff ready for any aches afterwards.” 

“You’ll be there too.” Hana says, leaning her head on his arm as he dumps the ground stones into the jar. 

“I’ll be there, the rest of the boys will be there. We’ll get you through it. Some Lunas have said they felt a surge of energy afterwards, some passed out almost instantly.” He shrugs. “It’s hard to predict what will happen after. If it’s any comfort, no one’s ever died in the process.” 

**********

Hana stands in Chan’s room, soon to be her room as well. Her stuff is moved in, the room looking tidier than she’s ever seen it. She could have stayed in the omega room, but Chan had thought it would just be more sentimental to have them share a room. She could sleep wherever she wanted, with whomever she wanted, but Chan’s room would be her new space. 

“My little pup is all grown up.” Changbin says, leaning against the doorframe, faking crying. 

Hana rolls her eyes. “I’ll always be your pup.” 

“Just a pup that can tell me what to do now.” He laughs, wrapping his arms around her in a quick hug. 

“Come on. It’s time.” 

He heads out through the back door, Hana taking a moment to breathe before following. The clearing is lit by the full moon, the lights off in the house to make sure it’s dark. The pack is standing in an almost complete circle, three on one side, three on the other, Hyunjin at the far end from her.  

Chan is standing in the middle, watching her approach. He’s dressed in black pants, his chest bare but a wolf pelt is thrown over his shoulders. His eyes are intense as she approaches slowly, the grass tickling her bare feet. Chan is looking at her like a true predator, something firing through her as she stares into his eyes. He offers a hand as she gets closer and she takes it, letting his warm fingers fold around her hand. He leads her to Hyunjin, both of them dropping to their knees in front of the beta. 

“We’ve joined today as a pack to witness the mating of our alpha Chan, to his mate and omega Hana under the full moon.” 

He turns for a moment to grab the cup, handing it to Chan. He takes a drink before Hyunjin passes it to her. The familiar taste of magic burns her throat but she doesn’t show it, swallowing the warm liquid. It heats her body, the warmth spreading through her veins. 

Hyunjin turns his back to them, holding his arms up towards the moon, huge in the sky tonight. “We ask the Moon Goddess in her love for her children to bless these two as they mate before her. Protect them and guide them as they lead their pack.” 

He turns back to them, grabbing the selenite knife. Hana and Chan hold their hands out, Hyunjin cutting an X into Chan’s palm first. “Bless Chan with the knowledge to guide and care for his Luna and his pack.” Hyunjin takes her palm, cutting an X in it as well. “Bless Hana with the gifts to aid her alpha, the wisdom to guide him for the good of the pack.” 

Hana and Chan press their palms together, lacing their fingers. Hyunjin pours a bowl of liquid over their hands. It burns the cuts on her palm but she doesn’t flinch, Chan showing no sign of pain either. 

Hyunjin wraps his hands around theirs. “Make these two as one with your blessing until their last days do they part.” 

Chan keeps a hold on her hand as Hyunjin lets them go, placing a hand on each of their foreheads, speaking in a language she can’t understand. Something flows through her, her hand tightening around Chan’s. She can feel him, sensations running through her as she suddenly becomes aware of the six pack members behind her. She can feel all of them, like a ball of string has formed in her chest, knotted together with eight strings branching out to her eight pack members. Chan’s is the strongest, the thickest of the strings, alight with glowing white light in the center of her chest. 

She can feel it starting, the energy flowing through her. She opens her eyes as Hyunjin steps away from them, eyes drawing up to the moon over his head. 

“Alpha,” he addresses Chan. “Take your Luna.” 

Hana sits upright as Chan moves behind her, eyes focused on the moon as he grips the front of her dress, ripping it down the middle. That’s why Hyunjin had told her to get something she didn’t mind ruining. Chan grips her hips, pushing her forward so she’s presenting for him. She can hear him moving around, removing his own clothes. She presses her face against the grass, Chan licking his fingers before running them through her folds. She’s already wet, excited at the prospect of finally becoming Chan’s. 

He presses into her, thick cock stretching her. She lets out a small noise, relaxing around him as he presses into her. There would be no foreplay, no soft touches. They were fucking with purpose, proving their bond, claiming each other as mates. Chan begins to grind against her, small movements dragging his cock in and out of her. 

Everything feels more intense, heat building beneath her skin. Chan grips her hips tight, picking up his pace. The sound of their skin slapping is loud in the night, and she can hear the faint groans of one of the pack. She had been with them all to some degree now, but this would be the first time they all were there, all were watching as she was fucked. 

Her head fills with images of all of them together, hands, lips, tongues, teeth all over. All nine of them moving together in fluid motion, alphas, betas, omegas together seeking out the most carnal pleasures. Hana moans as Chan lifts her body, pulling her back to his chest. Judging by the grunts and growls leaving his lips he’s close. She lets her head fall back on his shoulder, baring her neck to him. Her eyes find the moon again, bathing in its light as her alpha, her mate, takes her in front of his pack. 

She can feel it building inside of her, like an intense energy. It’s almost painful, the energy waiting, building, making her feel as if she’s going to implode. Chan kisses the skin of her throat, tongue tasting her sweaty skin before he’s sinking his teeth into her. 

The energy inside of her bursts all at once, the knot in her chest pulling taut as Chan growls against her neck, releasing inside her. Her own orgasm washes through her, a cry leaving her lips as it burns through her. She feels as if her breath is stolen for a moment, the press of Chan’s own chest against her back has her breathing again, vision blurring for a moment before she can see the moon in its clarity again. 

Chan licks at her neck, licking up the blood sliding down her chest. The pack is moving around her, the boys stripping off their clothes before they shift, howling up at the moon. Hana feels the rush, the surge of energy in her pack around her, Chan releasing her as she falls forward, body shaking as it cracks and changes. The pain is intense, just as Hyunjin had said, reminding her of her first shift. 

She turns to face the big brown wolf behind her, Chan nosing at her neck before licking at her shoulder. It sends a thrum of energy through her, her head tilting back as she lets out a howl as well. The nine of them howl, Hana feeling on top of the world. The energy is surging through her, making her want to race through the clearing, wanting to feel the wind in her fur. 

Chan watches her, each member of the pack nuzzling at their new Luna. Her fur is shimmering under the moonlight, a light about her that he had never noticed before. Hyunjin nudges his side, sitting himself next to his alpha, licking at Chan’s ear. It had been a successful ritual. The moon goddess had blessed them, and Hana had successfully transformed into their Luna. 

The boys begin shifting back, Minho and Felix heading in to finish the feast. Hana shifts back, standing naked under the moonlight. She leans her head back, basking in the light. Something flashes through her for a moment, a feeling like she’s never felt before. A feeling of...power. She has her back turned to them, missing the look that crosses Hyunjin’s face for a moment as he watches her. 

She turns back to face the house, running over to Chan, pulling on his hand. “Come on, I’m starving!” 

Chan laughs, turning to Hyunjin. “Coming?” 

“I’m gonna grab my stuff then I’ll be right in.” He says, walking towards the table where the cups and bowls are.

Chan lets Hana pull him into the house, Hyunjin turning his back to the house, glancing up at the moon. He shakes his head at the thought running through his mind, brushing it off as a trick of the light. 

That’s all it was. A trick of the light. 

NEXT

#stray kids #skz #stray kids fic #skz fic #stray kids werewolf au #skz werewolf au #stray kids supernatural au #skz supernatural au #stray kids x reader #stray kids x oc #skz x reader #skz x oc #ot8 x reader #ot8 x oc

[stayinzencity]

hello dear, never fear, mark is here!

pairing: Mark Lee x fem! reader

based on the film: Rab Ne Bana Di Jodi

genre/au: angst, romcom, marriage, strangers to lovers, alter ego

word count: 1.6K

warnings: mentions of death, anxiety, grief, potential infidelity (mark and minhyung may be the same person but the reader is unaware of that)

taglist: @elvirah @sly-merlin @en-see-tee

summary: A tragic turn of events lead to your marriage with Minhyung. Will he win your heart or lose you to his own alter ego? A tale told in five fragments.

this is for the june event of @supermwritersnet - lights, camera, fanfiction! go check out all the works!

And so the story starts:

Minhyung and you were tied together by marriage now, and it was not one you’d walked into unwillingly. You step inside the house, taking a look at what would be your new home. You knew what you were getting into. You made your choice.

You had the chance to marry the love of your life. Until you were robbed of it. You'd lost your father not soon after. Even now it wasn't easy to accept that you couldn't wake up from what felt like a bad dream.

Minhyung would be a good husband, and you would be a good wife. There were no ill feelings between the two of you. You simply weren't in love. Minhyung said he'd give you space and time, but it felt like it'd never be enough. You just might be sad forever.

With these thoughts plaguing your head, a heaviness in your chest appears, and every breath feels hard. This wasn’t supposed to happen. This wasn’t supposed to happen. This wasn’t supposed to-

You drop into a crouch, trying to find balance with your trembling hands on the ground. The feeling in your fingers is replaced with a tingling. Your heart pounds so fast, you wonder if it might break free and burst.

Vaguely, you notice Minhyung next to you. You wrap your cold fingers around his hand and steal the warmth. It doesn’t make much of a difference but holding onto his hand helps a little.

After a while, you slowly recover though tiredness tinges your every movement. Minhyung leads you to your bedroom, and informs you that he’ll be sleeping in the attic. You just want to sleep, so you don’t say anything else to him and he leaves. As you close your eyes, the exhaustion carried over from the past few days pulls you into sleep.

Minhyung’s wish and Mark’s creation:

“I want to make her happy,” Minhyung announces to his friends. “I want her to be happy. She’s not the girl I saw that day.”

Yuta flips the salon's sign to closed and pulls down the shutter. Then he turns to Minhyung and asks, “The girl you fell in love with?”

Minhyung’s eyes widen at the question. He tries to deny it. However, his attempts are futile. His friends know him well.

It takes a bit of discussion before Lucas comes up with a potential solution. “If she likes fictional characters then we just have to turn you into one!” Lucas says as though it were obvious. Neither Yuta nor Minhyung found it obvious though.

Minhyung spits out the water he’d been drinking. After coughing a bit, Yuta rubbing his back, Minhyung managed to ask, “How? What do you even mean?”

“We’ll turn you into hero material. She’ll fall for you and you’ll get marr- never mind. You already did that. You get your happily ever after!”

“That’s not how real life works and you know it.” Yuta whacks Lucas with a rolled up magazine. “Stop giving Minhyung false hope.”

“Oh come on! It could work!”

There are a few moments of silent duelling between Yuta and Lucas, before Yuta throws his hands up. “Fine. We’ll transform you into someone new and give you a chance to follow the plan Lucas made- which I still think is going to end up being more trouble than it’s worth. If it’s really what you want to do, then I’m not stopping you.” Yuta waits for Minhyung to nod, before dragging him over to a chair. “Between my makeover skills and whatever Lucas has up his sleeves, this might work. Maybe not the way you want it to. But what do I know- I am but a hairdresser. Lucas is the one who claims to be a love guru.” Yuta says the last sentence with a scoff and an eyeroll.

Lucas, who’d been preoccupied with something in the background, calls Yuta over to show him something.

Yuta waves a tiny slip of paper in front of Minhyung. “Look what Lucas came up with.” Yuta’s grin suggested his amusement at someone else’s expense, and Minhyung had more than a suspicion it would be his.

Minhyung snatches it from Yuta’s grip with little resistance and reads, “Hello dear, never fear, Mark is here?” With furrowed brows he looks at his friends who seem to be a moment away from cracking up. Sure his voice had gotten squeaky and broke towards the end, but it wasn’t that funny. Minhyung pouts and throws the scrunched up paper at Lucas.

Bursting into laughter, Lucas catches it and tosses it into the recycling bin with ease. “You’re welcome. Now you have your catchphrase.”

“What? No-”

Of course his friends wouldn’t pay any heed to his protests. Ex friends. Minhyung needed to find new people to hang around.

“You have to work on your confidence.” Yuta snickers, ignoring Minhyung’s glare. He needed new friends, seriously. “That was hardly convincing. She’ll figure out it’s you in seconds. Looks like Lucas is going to have a hard time training you.”

“I wasn’t even trying,” Minhyung mutters into his hands.

Meeting Mark:

Minhyung had no problems with you joining the dance class, much to your relief. It’s not like you expected him to keep you locked up inside- except sometimes you did. Regardless, you were filled with glee when Minhyung handed you money and told you to have fun.

It was a welcome change, going outside and doing something for yourself. Though the pain in your heart hadn’t vanished, it had lessened. You weren’t sure if you were good at dancing, but it was something you wanted to try again.

You thank the instructor when he hands you a card with a number. “Hello! It’s great to see all of you here, all pumped and ready to start dancing! You’ve all been given a card and you’ll have to partner up with the person who has the same number. Now go get to finding your dance partner!”

You hold up your card and look through the crowd, trying to find the person with the matching number. And that’s when you spot him. The man raises an eyebrow and walks towards you.

“Hello dear, never fear, Mark is here!” You have no idea how he says that with a straight face. While you contemplate making a run for it, Mark asks you your name. Not wanting to reveal your actual name, you make one up.

Minhyung or Mark:

You had made plans to watch a movie at home with your husband. Both of you are curled up on the couch, but he is seated far from you on the other end.

It wasn’t that big a distance. Still it served as a reminder of the gap between the two of you. Did you even want to cross the distance and to be next to Minhyung? A month ago, you would have said no with certainty. But now? You didn’t know anymore.

Besides the thoughts running through your head, sleep was calling you. You try to focus on the film.

“Hello, dear!” Mark? You could have sworn you’d heard Mark. “Never fear! Mark is here!” And there he was on the screen.

You rub your eyes, but the image of Mark wouldn’t vanish. You shut your eyes, counting the seconds and look at the screen again.

Mark was gone. He probably hadn’t been there in the first place. No, he definitely hadn’t been. Why did he appear in your mind though?

Gentle snoring cut through your thoughts and you turn to see Minhyung had dozed off. Looks like you weren’t the only one exhausted today.

Minhyung & Mark:

In the darkness, you could barely see his face. Then the spotlight lights up the stage, revealing your husband. The music starts playing and you let it take over your body. Minhyung follows every step the way Mark would have and that’s when it hits you.

How could you have not noticed? Was it because you’d spent so much time trying to ward off Mark’s advances? Did you not pay enough attention to Minhyung? They were so different, but they were the same person. You hold onto him as he lifts you into the air.

You’d found Minhyung a bit boring and awkward, but he’d been there all along. He’d loved you in a slow, silent way. He was a little too shy yet his sweet affection touched your heart. At no point did he try to keep you in a cage. He’d been ready to set you free since he’d rather see you fly than keep you trapped. No, he’d never dare to do that.

Thinking back, it made your heart flutter. There hadn’t been any bold declarations or grand gestures, but his feelings for you showed in the little things he did.

There was no denying that Mark had nearly swept you off your feet. Yet your heart already belonged to Minhyung.

Mark might have been straight out of a dream, yet Minhyung was your reality and you embraced him. You were in his arms, he was in yours. Your story might have started on a sad note. However, things were looking up now.

When your performance ends, the judges announce your victory. Trophy in hand, you pull Minhyung aside.

Minhyung’s eyes are filled with regret and hope as he looks at you.

You lean in and kiss his cheek, taking delight in the way he blushes. You slip your hand in his and say, “It’s time to go home.”

© 2021, stayinzencity

#supermwritersnet #supermaction #nct-writers #kokonomi #nct mark #nct mark angst #nct mark fluff #nct fic #nct fanfic #superm mark #superm fic #nct x reader #superm x reader #nct mark x reader

[slytherinbarnes]

Sub Rosa [101]

101. including bellamy (the epilogue)

Pairing: Bellamy Blake x reader 

Word Count: 18.6k

Warnings: angst, death, anxiety, pregnancy/birth (and maybe it's not the most factual but so what), lots of fluff and happiness, mentions of blood, smut, nausea and puking, language.

Summary: the last update of sub rosa takes you through some moments of your life with bellamy after you reject transcendence. 

a/n: this is it you guys! see the end for my final sub rosa author’s note!!! 

previous chapter // season masterlist // series masterlist

24 hours after Transcendence

You stand at the door of the bunker, staring into the darkness, trying to talk yourself into going inside. 

But you can't bring yourself to do it, because that makes all of this real, and you don't want to accept that. 

As you try to psych yourself up, you feel a hand slip into your own, and you turn to face Bellamy, a sympathetic smile on his face. “You don't have to go in. Murphy and I can get it done without you.”

You shake your head, thankful for the offer, but well aware that you can't accept it. “No, I need to do this. Gabriel deserves to have a proper burial. We couldn't do it for Diyoza or Kane or my mother, so I need this. I have to see this through.”

Bellamy nods, understanding. “We can wait as long as you like.”

You put on a brave face, looking up at your fiance. “I got this.”

And then you step inside. 

You lead Murphy and Bellamy back to the rec room, where Gabriel’s body remains, untouched since you all left him there to save Madi. Bellamy helps you change him into clean clothes, unstained by blood, something more akin to what he’d usually wear. You also clean the blood from his face, and by the end, it’s easy for you to pretend that he’s just sleeping. That Gabriel Santiago is not dead, he’s just taking a long nap. In a few minutes, he’ll jump up, ready for dinner, cracking some joke about being ready to eat, even when he’s sleeping. 

Of course, that isn't the reality. And once you're ready, Murphy and Bellamy load him onto a stretcher and carry him out of the bunker, out into the woods where the others are standing beside a grave that is already dug and waiting. On your way out, your eyes land on the piano, black blood staining some of the white keys. You pause and stare at it, Gabriel’s cup of alcohol still sitting on the edge, right where he left it before he was stabbed. You feel yourself start to choke up, and you step away from the piano, intending to join the others outside when something catches your eye. A sheet of music beside the others, a familiar scrawl in the corner. 

You reach out and pick it up, tears springing to your eyes when you read the title of the song. 

Clair de lune.

And off to the side, framed by music notes, is a message. One line, simple, but it’s enough to make you cry again.

For mi cielito.

You hear a sound out in the hall and you grab the sheet of music, swiping away your tears as you fold it into quarters and tuck it into your pocket, running outside to join the others. 

There are no dry eyes as Gabriel is lowered into the ground, and you all collectively say one last Traveler’s Blessing for him, mourning the loss of your friend and family. Everyone whispers their final ‘may we meet again’s,’ and file away, one by one, leaving only you and Bellamy. You walk to the edge of the grave and look down at Gabriel’s peaceful face, your mind thinking back to his final moments. You still don't know if his final words were a love confession, but looking back on the years you spent with him and the sheet of music in your back pocket, you think that maybe it was a confession. You hate that you’ll never know for sure, but you do get a sense of comfort in knowing that he’s at peace now. 

He was ready to die ten years ago, before he was unwillingly put into a new body, but now, he’s at peace. He’s probably with Josephine and Russell and the other Primes, watching all of you from the stars. He lived a full life, a few of them actually, and got to answer some of his biggest questions about the Anomaly and the Anomaly Stone. And maybe that’s enough.

Bellamy steps up behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist and resting his head on your shoulder. “Are you okay, natshana?”

“Yeah, just thinking.”

“About Gabriel?”

You hum in agreement and stand silent for a moment before you reach into your pocket and pull out the sheet music, unfolding it so Bellamy can see it. You both look at it, and you can hear his mind silently putting together the pieces before you quietly add, “I think he confessed his love for me before dying.”

You don’t know why you say it to him, because it's not like it matters now. And you’re not even sure what your feelings for Gabriel would have been like had he survived, but you're sure of your feelings for Bellamy. If Bellamy really had died in Sanctum and Gabriel had lived instead, you’re sure you could have loved him. But he would have never been your soulmate, because that title belongs to Bellamy. Bellamy is a part of you, the same way Clarke is a part of you, his fate and existence intertwined with your own in every way. 

You start to grow nervous when Bellamy doesn't say anything, afraid you’ve hurt him, but he finally breaks his silence when he whispers, “I’m glad he was there for you when I couldn't be. I’ll always be grateful to him for that.”

“Me too.”

Bellamy tightens his grip around your waist a little, lifting his head to press a kiss into your hair. “Besides, you’re easy to love.”

You turn your head and smile at him. “Are you using my own line on me?”

“Is it working?”

You smile at him, lifting your hand and placing it over his hand that’s resting on your stomach. “A little. Too bad we’re stuck in tents right now.”

“Is that supposed to stop me?”

You let out a surprised snort of laughter and shake your head. “Enough.”

He smiles and presses a kiss to your cheek. “There’s the smile I was missing.”

“It’s hard losing people. I know so many of us have survived, despite the odds continuously stacked against us, but I still feel like we’ve lost so much.”

“I know, la lune.” He tightens his grip on you before stepping away and turning you to face him. “But things will be different now. We’re building a new life here and we’re going to do better. We’re going to honor all those we’ve lost by living long, peaceful lives, the way they’d all want us to.”

You nod your head, tears welling up in your eyes. “Promise?”

“I promise.”

You lean forward and press a kiss to his lips, accepting the comfort he offers you. When you finally pull away, you both turn towards the open grave, Gabriel still waiting to be buried. Bellamy grabs the shovels, passing you one, and as the two of you start to drop dirt around him, you whisper one last time, “La muerte es la vida.”

-

6 months after Transcendence 

You roll over with a huff, turning to look at the ceiling of your tent, cursing yourself for not taking up Octavia’s offer to sleep in their guest bed.

You thought you could handle a couple more weeks in the tent with Bellamy, but your aching back and stiff limbs are starting to tell you otherwise. Everyone’s permanent homes are being built one by one, everyone focusing on one home at a time, finding that makes the process much faster. You, Wonkru, the Eligius prisoners, and even some of the Sanctumites have been sharing the workload, moving from one group to the next to keep things fair. You and Bellamy are next on the list for your people, but there’s one house for someone from Wonkru and one for someone from Eligius that needs to be built before you and Bellamy get your own place. 

Meaning, you have at least a few more weeks of tent living before you get your own bed, and your own roof that doesn't leak when it rains too hard. 

You sit up with a sigh, closing your eyes and stretching the stiffness from your arms and legs. As you're rubbing a knot out of your shoulder, Bellamy’s smiling face pokes into the tent, grinning at you as if he has the bet news. You give him an odd look, not appreciating his chipper energy when you’re feeling grumpy and sore. “What?”

“Let’s get married.”

You laugh a little and he steps inside of the tent fully. “You’ve already asked me that, Bellamy.”

“No, I mean, let’s get married today.”

“Today?” You shake your head, your brows pulling together. “We can't get married today. We have a house to help build.”

“Everyone could use a break.”

You counter, “We don’t have anything planned out.”

“I’ll take care of it.” Your jaw drops open a little as you look at him, trying to think of some other excuse why you can't marry your fiance today, but unable to find one. He smiles when he realizes that you’re speechless. “If you have no other objections, then you need to get to Sanctum.”

“Sanctum? Why?”

“You’ll see when you get there.” He passes you your boots and a pair of clean clothes, the large smile back on his face. “C'mon, get dressed. We have a lot to do and I need you out of here!”

You laugh a little as you quickly get dressed, stepping out of the tent to find Bellamy waiting. He leads you to the Anomaly Stone, pulling on the helmet in the room and getting the code for Sanctum, which he quickly types in. As the flash of green appears in front of you, he tugs off the helmet and sets it aside, turning to you with a bright smile. He places a quick kiss on your lips before ushering you towards the open Anomaly. “I’ll see you in a few hours. I love you!”

You turn to look at him with bewilderment, unused to this playful energy, as you call back, “I love you more than the stars!”

You step into the Anomaly, appearing in the palace of Sanctum. The room has been mostly cleared out by this point, Sheidheda’s throne destroyed, the blood staining the ground, Bellamy’s included, now scrubbed away. The palace primarily serves as a transportation hub at this point, shelves lining the walls with disciple helmets placed on them, waiting to be used. 

You look around at the empty room, confused as to why you’re here, and as you start to walk towards the door, someone comes running in, an apologetic smile on their face. “Sorry I’m late, we got busy at the tavern!”

“Blythe Ann? What am I doing here?”

Blythe Ann smiles and motions for you to follow her before she turns and heads out the door. You jog to catch up, her voice floating back to you. “Bellamy wanted you to stay here so they could get things ready back on Earth. Plus, you left a few things here.”

You follow her from the palace and over to the tavern, where she leads you to the base of the stairs that lead to your former living quarters. You stand looking up at it, and she motions to the top. “Go on.”

You give her a look before tentatively climbing the stairs, moving down the hallway and pushing open the door to your former room. It’s empty, but it looks nearly identical to the way you left it years ago, back when you thought you'd only be gone for a few days. You had no idea it would be years. 

The room is different though, because a long silver dress is stretched out on the bed, a gift from Delilah. You smile at it, walking across the room to the dress, running your hand over the fabric. As you do, something catches your eye, and you turn to look at the top of your bed, near the pillows, a yellow book with blue binding sitting beside your old pack. You reach out and grab the book with a smile, the cover stained with your blood and a little scorched. You open the book and flip the first few pages to the note that Bellamy wrote you years ago, reading it over again, tears springing to your eyes as you do. 

And just as you finish the note, you hear a noise behind you, startling you. You drop the book on the bed and reach for your knife, an old habit that you still haven't broken, despite the six months of peace you’ve lived. But instead of finding a masked intruder or someone ready to kill you, you find Clarke, Octavia, Raven, Emori, Echo, Hope, Gaia, and Madi. They all look at you in surprise, holding up their hands in surrender, “Slow down there, we come bringing drinks!”

They all hold up cups and you smile, dropping your hand. “Sorry, old habit.”

They all file into the room and move over to you, each of them pulling you in for a hug in greeting. As you hug Gaia last, you look over them in confusion. “What are you all doing here?”

“We’re your wedding party!” You look at Emori, your confusion deepening. “Blythe Ann said it’s what they used to do on Earth before Praimfaya. Brides would have bridesmaids that stand at the altar to support them, and grooms have groomsmen to support them.”

Clarke smiles, “I know all those traditions were lost on the Ark, but we thought it might be nice to have a real wedding, like they used to.”

You smile at her, “How long have you been planning this?”

This time, it’s Octavia that answers. “My brother’s been working on this for weeks, and he has a very specific schedule for us to follow, so we better get started.”

“Okay then.” She passes you a drink, and now all of you have a cup in your hands. Clarke lifts it in the air, looking at you with a smile. “To the bride, our la lune!”

Everyone echoes, “To the bride!” before downing their drinks.

After that, your morning is a whirlwind of activity. Everyone helps you to get ready, and the morning is full of stories about Bellamy. Octavia tells you some from her childhood that you had never heard before, and Echo, Emori, and Raven share stories from the Ring. They help you get dressed in the silver dress, before helping you with your hair. And as you sit in your old room with your friends, you can't help but be overwhelmed by all the love you feel. You start to tear up, and Clarke is the first to notice. “La lune, what’s wrong?”

You shake your head, quickly wiping away your tears as everyone turns to look at you. “Nothing, I'm just so happy.”

Everyone lets out a collective aw, and Clarke helps wipe away your tears. “Well, before we finish up your look, we should probably get the rest of your tears out of the way.”

“What do you mean?”

Emori, the resident wedding expert, steps forward. “There’s another tradition with weddings, and that’s for the bride to have something old, something new, something borrowed, and something blue.”

Clarke grabs your hand, turning it over before dropping something into your palm. “Something old, it symbolizes continuity and often incorporates something sentimental, passed down through the family.”

You look down at your open palm to find a ring, your father’s wedding ring, given back to your mother before he was floated. You thought it was lost after she was bodysnatched by Simone, but now you see that it’s not. You look up at Clarke with teary eyes, which overflow quickly and rush down your face. “Dad’s ring?”

“He would want you to have it, to give to Bellamy.” You feel yourself start to cry harder as she whispers, “He’d be so proud of you, la lune. Mom too.”

You reach out and pull her into a hug, whispering into her hair, “Thank you.”

The two of you share a moment before pulling apart, and Echo and Hope step forward next. “Something new, it symbolizes excitement for the future and a new chapter in your life.”

They each hold out a boot to you, new shoes for your wedding, but shoes that still fit your personality. You take them with a smile and hug them each, setting the shoes down as Madi steps forward, a chain clasped tight in her hand. “Something borrowed, for good luck.”

You look down at the necklace in her hand, a sun hanging from the chain, and you start to cry again as she steps forward and clasps it around your neck. You hug her as soon as she’s finished, a piece of your father and a piece of your mother now with you on your wedding day. When you and Madi pull apart, Raven and Emori step forward with matching smiles. “Something blue, to ward off evil spirits, but also a symbol of love, purity, and fidelity.”

They open their palms to reveal hair clips adorned with small blue moons, and you smile as you hug them both in thanks. They help to arrange the clips into your hair, and before you know it, you're ready to get married. You all take one more shot of Jo Juice for good luck before heading down the stairs and back to the palace, towards your wedding. You feel your nerves start to build with each step you take back towards Earth.

Blythe Ann, Jae, and a few others are waiting for you at the stone, and as someone enters the code back to Earth, Jae turns to you with a curious look. “Who’s walking you down the aisle?”

“What?”

“Typically, the father of the bride walks her down the aisle, and gives her away to her future husband.”

You shake your head, lost, unsure who could do that for you when your father is dead, Kane is dead, and your mother is dead. But just as you start to panic, you feel a hand slip into your own, and you look down to find your niece smiling up at you. “I’ll do it, ani. If you want me to.”

You smile back down at her, “I’d be honored if you walked me down the aisle, little sun.”

The two of you share a grin as the Anomaly is activated ahead of you, and in one large group, you step through, following the rest of the crowd as they lead you through the bunker and out into the warm afternoon air. The sun is beginning to lower in the sky, creating a golden glow over everything you see. You have no idea where you’re going, you just allow yourself to be led to your destination, trying to keep your mind off your nerves and focus on your excitement instead. 

Finally, after a few minutes of walking, you all stop near a tree. The other wedding guests walk ahead of you, moving to find their seats, but your bridesmaids keep you hidden out of view, but also unable to see anything around you. Clarke reaches out to take the hand not held by Madi, and she gives you a reassuring smile. “One by one, we’re going to walk down the aisle ahead of you. Madi knows your cue, and she’ll walk you down to us. After that, just follow the lead. We’ll be right there with you if you need us.”

You smile at her, tears in your eyes again, “Thank you, Clarke. For everything.”

She smiles, shaking off your praise. “Don't thank me, thank your future husband when you see him.”

You smile at her, and one by one, your friends hug you before walking down the aisle ahead of you, a soft song playing over a set of speakers. It takes a second for you to realize that it’s Clair de lune, and you smile, another piece of your parents put into your wedding. And despite them not being here, you feel like they are. You feel their love everywhere, incorporated into everything around you, reminding you that they’ll never truly leave you. 

You get so lost in your thoughts of your parents that you don't even realize Madi is starting to tug on your hand, until she whispers, “Ani, it’s time. Are you ready?”

You look down at your niece and smile. “I’m ready.”

She starts to walk, leading you around the large tree and into a clearing. There is an aisle cutting through two large groups of people, all of them standing and watching as you approach. Your eyes lift to the trees, where stars and moons of varying sizes hang down, catching the light of the setting sun, and it brings a smile to your face. At the end of the aisle is an arch adorned with flowers, and your friends stand on either side: Gaia, Raven, Emori, Echo, Hope, and Clarke stand on the left, and on the right is Octavia, Murphy, Miller, Jackson, Jordan, and Levitt. But you don't focus on any of them, because as soon as you catch sight of Bellamy, your eyes never leave his face.

He is watching you intensely, tears streaming down his face, which makes you start to cry too. He’s dressed in a suit, which he must have gotten from someone in Sanctum, and though the sight is a little startling at first, he also looks good. He shaved once he joined Cadogan’s cause, but once all of you decided to return back to Earth, he started to grow out his beard again, reminding you of the scruffy man that saved your life from Diyoza and her prisoners a few years ago. The freckles that dot his face and cheeks are prolific, thanks to the days that all of you spend in the sun, and his eyes are sparkling in the golden hour light. And though you think he looks good every single day, you think he looks beautiful right now. You sear the image into your memory, never wanting to forget how he looks in this moment.

You finally reach the end of the aisle, and Madi passes you off to Bellamy, who leans in for a quick kiss. They exchange a quick hug before Madi moves to stand beside Octavia, switching places with Murphy, and you turn to Bellamy and whisper, “You did all of this?”

He grins, “You like it?”

“Bellamy, I love it.”

His smile grows even wider, and you melt, wishing you could stay in this moment forever. As the two of you stand smiling at each other, Murphy comes to stand beside the two of you, beneath the arch, and you turn to look at him. He smiles at you, “You look beautiful.”

You smile back and counter, “You look good too, for a cockroach.”

He laughs a little before lifting his voice to address the crowd, which is now sitting and watching all of you closely. “Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today to celebrate a wedding between our favorite couple. I’ve never officiated a wedding before, but honestly, I already know that I’m going to be good at it.”

The crowd snickers and you and Bellamy exchange an eye roll as Murphy continues, “I’ve heard from reliable sources that weddings on Earth before Praimfaya were long and boring, but this wedding will be anything but that. We have a party to get to after this, so I’m gonna keep it short.”

He pauses and looks you and Bellamy over for a second, before he says, “From the very first moment they laid eyes on each other, Bellamy and la lune were in love. It was obvious to everyone but them, but eventually, for all of our sake, they figured it out. We all thought the puppy dog eyes and longing looks would end once they got together, but to our dismay, they didn't. Bellamy and la lune look at each other with as much love as they did on that first day, if not more. Some of us had to watch Bellamy pine away for her while trapped on a tin can in space, while others had to watch la lune pine away for him while in the last green valley on Earth.”

He motions to your surroundings, lush, green, overgrown, and muses, “Or so we thought. Still it didn't take long for them to figure it out again, though life continued to get in the way. But finally, after a few years and a few different planets, we have arrived at this moment. Bellamy and la lune, it’s time to exchange your vows. Bellamy, you go first.”

Bellamy holds both of your hands in his own as he takes a deep breath and begins, “Natshana. We have been through so much together. We have experienced so much loss, so many hardships, but through it all, I felt at peace, because I knew I had you. I vow to always love you, to support you through everything, and to remain by your side through it all. I vow to protect you and keep you safe, and to remind you daily of how much I love you. I want to spend the rest of my life with you, proving to you that I deserve the love you freely give me. I want to be your best friend and confidant, your soulmate. I vow to be a good husband, a good father, and a better man. I vow to love you in this lifetime and in the next.”

You’re crying by the end, tears streaming down your face, making your vision blurry, and you smile at him as he finishes his speech. You swear you even hear Murphy sniffle a little before he says, “La lune, your vows.”

You wipe away your tears to get a better look at Bellamy before taking his hands again with a smile. “Bellamy, I have spent my entire life feeling like something was missing. Despite living a life full of love on the Ark, surrounded by people that cared about me, I knew that something was missing from my life. I would have never guessed that what was missing was you. From the moment you saved me from Shumway, I knew our fates were intertwined. I didn't understand just how much back then, but I understand now. You are a part of me, as if the gods created our souls from the same mixture of stardust. I can't imagine my life without you, and I am so honored and grateful to be standing up here today, joining my life with yours. I vow to love you unconditionally, until we take our last breaths. I vow to comfort you when things are hard, to protect you from the harsh world, and to make you smile as much as I can. I vow to be a good wife, and mother, and woman, and I vow to do everything I can to make you happy, because I love you more than the stars.”

Bellamy starts to cry as you say your vows to him, and by the end not only are you both crying, but almost everyone around you is crying too. Murphy gathers himself and mutters, “The rings.”

Clarke and Octavia each pass him a ring, the first of which he offers to Bellamy. Bellamy takes your left hand, poising the ring at the end of your ring finger as Murphy says, “La lune, do you accept this ring as a symbol of Bellamy’s love for you?”

“Yes.”

Bellamy slides the ring on your finger, the gold band matching the band of your engagement ring. Except this band has a small moon on it, seeming impossibly small, and as you admire it, Bellamy whispers, “Bardo tech is good for something.”

You smile at him as Murphy passes your father’s ring to you, and you take Bellamy’s left hand, holding the ring at the end of his ring finger the same way he did with you. Murphy repeats, “Bellamy, do you accept this ring as a symbol of la lune’s love for you?”

Bellamy smiles at you and whispers, “I do.”

You slide the ring onto his finger, whispering, “It was my father’s.”

Bellamy looks up at you in surprise, tears in his eyes again as he whispers back, nearly speechless, “Natshana.”

You smile at him, and beside you, Murphy proudly announces, “I now pronounce you married! You may now kiss the bride!”

Bellamy grins at you before sweeping you into his arms, turning and dipping you before kissing you, pouring all the love he has for you into it. You both pull away with matching grins, the crowd cheering around you as Murphy yells, “Let’s party!”

And party you do. 

All of you move to a different clearing, set up with food and fire and more music, and you spend hours dancing, partying, and laughing with your friends, your family, and your husband. Sometime later, long after midnight, you and Bellamy are slow dancing, looking at each other with adoration when he mutters, “I have one more surprise for you.”

“What is it?”

“Do you trust me?”

You give him a look and say, “You know I do.”

“Close your eyes.”

You do as he says, and he leads you away from the party to a chorus of goodnights, hoops, and hollers following you. As the sounds of the party grow fainter, the sounds of the woods grow louder, and you can hear leaves crunching beneath your boots as Bellamy leads you through the woods. You walk for a few minutes before he pulls you to a stop, putting his hands over your eyes to cover them even further. His mouth is right beside your ear when he whispers, “Ready?” and it sends a chill down your spine. 

Your voice is a breathy whisper when you answer, “Ready.”

“Okay, open.'' Bellamy drops his hands from your eyes, and they open to see a house standing in front of you, the soft light of a fire coming from inside. It has a porch and a big yard, and as you look at it in confusion, Bellamy adds, “It’s no house in Shallow Valley, but…”

He trails off as realization dawns on you, and you turn to him with a look of excitement. “Wait, are you saying?”

“It’s ours.”

You laugh and pull him in for a kiss, pulling away again so you can ask, “Wait, how? There were two houses ahead of ours!”

“We’ll probably be babysitting for everyone for the rest of our lives, but they came by everyday to work on it.”

You smile at him, shaking your head with disbelief. “I don't deserve you, Bellamy Blake.”

“You deserve more than me, blainen natshana.”

“That’s not true.” He smiles at you a little before nodding towards the house. “Wanna go inside, Mrs. Blake?”

You grin at him, “I’d love to, Mr. Blake.”

He takes your hand and leads you inside, giving you a quick tour before leading you back to the bedroom. There, he stops at the door, motioning for you to go inside. You push the door open and walk into the room, looking around at the decor, Gabriel’s sheet music hanging on the wall, the large bed in the room, and...the skylight. You let out a little gasp as your gaze locks on the window situated in the ceiling, letting in the soft light of the moon. It shines down on the bed, giving you a perfect view of space from the place you’ll be sleeping. As you look up at the stars over your bedroom, you feel Bellamy slide up behind you, his hands on your shoulders. You whisper, “It’s beautiful.”

“Yes, you are.” You smile at the compliment, but your smile drops into a gasp when his lips move to your neck, pressing soft kisses to your skin. His hands slide from your shoulders, down your arms, and then to your waist. You sink into him, enjoying the feel of his lips on your skin, as they move from your neck to your shoulder. One of his hands lifts, and you feel your zipper being tugged down your back slowly, his lips kissing down your spine as he exposes more skin. Your dress slides off your body, the silky material moving off you easily, landing around your feet. Bellamy drops down behind you, his hands roaming across your skin before reaching around and untying your shoes, one after the next, his lips pressing kisses to your legs. 

He rises slowly, trailing a finger up your spine and sending a chill through you before his lips press to your neck again. He pulls away to spin you in his arms so you're facing him, and he eyes you up and down hungrily, his expression one of admiration. “More beautiful than the moon.”

You smile at him, before reaching out and crashing his lips to yours, the two of you kissing hungrily, Bellamy’s teasing leaving you eager with anticipation. He pulls you close to him, his suit rubbing against your bare skin, his arousal pressing against your body. You slide your hands up his chest and push his jacket down his shoulders, before moving your hands to his buttons. You break your kiss so you can press kisses to his skin, the same way he did to you, a new kiss with each new inch of exposed skin. When you reach the last button, you drop to your knees, leaving his shirt on as you do. You press one kiss to his waist before leaning down and ridding him of his own boots, before you return your focus to his waistband. 

You undo his pants and slide them down his legs, letting them pool around his feet, and then you tug his underwear down, his dick springing free. You look up at him, and his eyes are locked on you, watching your every move as you take him into your mouth. His eyes flutter closed as you work him with your tongue, slowly at first, increasing your pace as you move. You can feel him start to reach his climax, his thighs clenching beneath your hands, but he stops you before he can finish, his voice breathy when he whispers, “Not yet.”

He pulls you to your feet and straight into a kiss, guiding you backwards towards the bed, stopping just at the edge to break your kiss. Bellamy shakes off his shirt, the last of his clothes, before nudging you to sit on the bed so he can help you out of your underwear. As soon as you're naked, he takes a moment to admire you again, and you do the same with him, your eyes scanning his body, before settling on a scar at his side. You reach out to run a finger over the scar, given to him by Kane while he was under the influence of Alie. Bellamy reaches out and tips your chin up until you’re locking eyes, and he smiles, “I love my crooked scar.”

“And I love you.”

He leans down and kisses you, the two of you moving backwards on the bed until your head is on the pillows. His mouth leaves yours to press kisses all over your body, worshipping you, and when he finally sinks into you later, you climax while looking at the stars.

-

7 months after Transcendence

You look down at the list of supplies in your hand, checking over it a second time before you jump to Bardo to grab all that you need. But as you’re reading through the list, you get an idea, and you lift your gaze to look at your twin, who’s sitting across from you at your kitchen table. “We should form a council.”

Clarke looks up at you, confused, her mind too focused on the list in her own hand. “What?”

“We should form a council, like we had on the Ark. Except this one will be between all of us that chose to leave Transcendence.”

Clarke considers your idea for a minute before nodding in agreement. “It would definitely make it easier to get supplies if we had an official person to go to each time.”

“Everyone can choose or elect a council member to represent them. One from Bardo, one from Sanctum, one from Wonkru, and one from Eligius. And then the council members can elect a chancellor to represent all of us.” Clarke nods in agreement. The ideas start coming to you quickly now, and you add, “We can set an age for Transcendence, for those who choose to go through with it. We’ve already got a few pregnant people within each group, so inevitably, somebody will want to transcend. Even though none of us liked the idea, we can make it a celebration or ceremony of some sort.”

“I like that. And we can jump to other planets for trades, make the routes and access to each other easier. With Bardo being at its closest point in its orbit, it’s easy to handle the time dilation now. But in the future it’s something we’ll need to consider. We can also set up schools or specialized learning within each group, so everyone has some way to contribute. Maybe check in with each other once a year at an official meeting just to make sure we’re all on the same page.” She looks back down to her notebook, flipping to a new page and already scribbling out a few notes. “I’ll get a few ideas written out, and we can pitch it to the others later.”

You smile at her, standing from your chair with your list. “And with that, I’m gonna go get our supplies.”

Clarke glances up at you as you step away, smiling. “Good idea, la lune.”

You smile back and counter, “Thank you.” And as you turn away from her, you drop your voice to a whisper, low enough that she can't hear you. “Intergalactic Chancellor.”

-

9 months after Transcendence

You walk up the path to the newest building in your fast growing town, Octavia and Gaia at your side. 

The temple in front of you is built with stone, gifted to you from Bardo, the first of many gifts exchanged after the announcement of the Intergalactic Council. Everyone agreed and elected their council members. The Bardoans chose Lila, your former training partner, the Sanctumites chose Jae, Wonkru chose Indra, and the Eligius prisoners chose Nikki. With most of the people concentrated back on Earth, everyone agreed that Earth needed two delegates, to ensure everyone’s voice was heard, so they quickly chose Clarke as a fifth council member. And then a few minutes after that, they made her the Chancellor, just like you predicted. Everyone agreed that she could put the needs of the many over the few, that she could be more impartial than most, and that she was the best suited for the job. What surprised you though, was when they chose you to take over Clarke’s council seat, making you the new fifth member. 

The last two months have been hectic as you all established the council and a new routine, and each Stone Room was cleaned up and made easier to access. On top of that, each of the three planets built a temple for Transcendence, where future ceremonies could be celebrated. Which is where you are right now, walking up to the new temple with Octavia and Gaia. Gaia leads you all inside, pointing out the various features of the temple. Stained glass windows, designed based off images from Earth before Praimfaya, but the religious images have been replaced with the origin of the Grounder religion and the story of Transcendence. 

In the center of the temple, surrounded by a stone altar, are the remnants of Gaia’s transcendence. She was the only one on Earth when everyone transcended, and despite coming back down, her being of light remained. Now, it sits in the center of the temple, serving as a reminder of what will happen to those that choose to transcend. On Sanctum, they fixed up the palace and made it part temple, part Stone Room. And on Bardo, they put their temple in the oxygen farm, where most of the beings of light remain. 

It’s weird to think that all of you are essentially establishing a new religion for people to follow. And though it’s likely that most of you that are alive right now won’t believe in the miracle of Transcendence, it’s possible that the descendants that come from your generation will believe. Religion on the Ark was always more of a melting pot of histories, most of the major religions combined into one universal religion. The Grounders believed in the Commanders and Becca Pramheda, and the Bardoans believed in the Shepherd and his teachings. On Sanctum, they believed in the divinity of the Primes. 

And even if the new religion surrounding transcendence is not something you’ll ever believe in, religion has always been a big part of the human experience, and it only seems fitting that all of you create something for future generations to believe in. Plus, it does bring a smile to your face to know that you’ll always be part of the history of transcendence. Without you, the human race was condemned to extinction, until you urged them to reconsider. With Bellamy and Octavia’s help and everyone else’s compliance, you were able to convince the alien species to give humans another chance. It wasn't just because of you, but you are a part of the legend, a legend that will be passed down to generations to come. 

Your story will live on, even when you’re not there to tell it.

-

11 months after Transcendence

You sit in your large bed, waiting for your husband to join you, both of you winding down for the night and preparing for sleep. 

When he finally steps into your bedroom, you give him a serious look and muse, “I think it’s time.”

Bellamy gives you a shocked look, “You think so?”

“I do.” You hold up The Iliad, bookmarked a few pages from the end, you and Bellamy both procrastinating the inevitable: finishing the book. But now, after working your way through the book slowly, over the course of a few years, you know it’s time for the two of you to finish it. 

Bellamy strips down to his underwear and climbs into the bed beside you, taking the book from your outstretched hand. He settles back into the pillows, opening his arms so that you can cuddle up next to him, tucked into his arms. You turn your gaze to the night sky above you, visible though the window in your room, and listen as Bellamy reads you the story of Achilles’ wrath. The moon rises slowly as he reads to you, bringing more light into the room as the time passes, and it’s right overhead when he finishes the last lines with a solemn voice. “When they had heaped up the barrow they went back again into the city, and being well assembled they held a high feast in the house of Priam, their king. Thus, then, did they celebrate the funeral of Hector, tamer of horses.”

Bellamy closes the book with a snap, setting it aside as you roll over to face him, resting across his chest as you look at him in confusion. “Wait, that’s it?”

“That’s it. Was that not enough for you, la lune?”

You glare at the laughter in his tone, and he attempts to hide the smile on his face as you answer, “What about the Trojan Horse? And the end of the war?”

Bellamy shrugs, “The Iliad was always about Achilles’ rage and the consequences of it. I guess Homer didn't think the rest of it was important.”

“Bummer.”

Bellamy laughs at the genuine disappointment in your voice, readjusting so he can place a kiss on your forehead. “If you want, I can get Niylah to keep an eye out for more historical books. She’s pretty good at finding them.”

“That would be great.”

He smiles at you, “Good. Now go to sleep, we have a lot to do tomorrow.”

He turns and blows out the candles beside your bed before the two of you adjust and get comfortable, falling asleep in each other’s arms. The last thing you think before sleep overtakes you, is that this sure beats sleeping in a tree. 

-

1 year after Transcendence

You stand in the kitchen directing Clarke, Madi, Bellamy, and Octavia on different tasks. “Madi, you and Clarke work on the vegetables.”

“Bellamy, you cut up the beef, and Octavia you’ll cut up the pork.” You slide your cutting board towards you, chicken laid out on top of it. “I’ll take care of the chicken.”

Everyone takes their directions, asking you for approval every few minutes, making sure everything seems right as you rely on your memory for how to make Sancocho Trifásico. You carve the chicken into bite size pieces, using your Grounder knife to do it. You haven't used the knife to take a human life in over a year. Little do you know, you’ll never use the knife to take another human life again. The Grounder knife eventually becomes a knife, the way it should, and Wanlida becomes a distant memory. She’s only ever mentioned in stories now, memories, the nickname never again used. You’re thankful for that.

And as you sit preparing dinner with some of your favorite people, it’s easy to forget all the messed up things you’ve done. It’s easy to forget that you’ve killed people, hurt people, fought in more battles and wars than one person ever should. You’ve lied and kept secrets, betrayed people. You’ve done a lot of bad in life. But here, among your family, those closest to you, none of that matters, because they’re messed up too. All of you have done terrible things, usually to save the ones you love, and you’ve all been forgiven for that. You’ve all forgiven each other for the betrayals and secrets and fights. And what was once two sets of killer siblings, is now just one big family. Happy, at peace, able to rest for the first time in your lives. 

You look around the table, not seeing Wanheda, Heda, Blodreina, Wanlida, or the man that slaughtered a Grounder Army. Instead, you see your twin, your niece, your sister, and your husband, all of you laughing as you exchange stories, preparing dinner and living a life drastically different from the one you used to live. 

A while later, after the Sancocho Trifásico has had time to cook and the flavors have had time to intertwine, the five of you sit down around the table, bowls in hand. Before you start to eat, you lift your cup and announce. “To those we have lost, and those that aren’t here with us today. To Gabriel.”

Everyone repeats, “To Gabriel,” toasting the man that taught you the recipe you’re all about to dig into. Once you finish your toast, everyone takes their first bite of the meal, a collective moan of delight rippling through your group. There’s a chorus of compliments around the table, everyone praising each other’s contributions, before Madi looks around at all of you and says, “We should make this a monthly thing. Once a month, no matter how busy we are, we all meet up for dinner.”

Everyone nods in agreement, and Octavia adds, “And we can invite the others: Raven, Echo, Hope, Murphy, Emori, Jackson, Miller, Gaia, Indra, Niylah, and Levitt.”

“We can switch houses so the burden never falls on just one person to host. And maybe we can all bring dishes to eat.” They all nod at your suggestion, and you say, “All those in favor, raise your hand.”

Five hands go up around the table, everyone united on Madi’s idea. You nod once, announcing, “Well, that's that. Let the new family dinner tradition begin.”

-

1 year, 3 months after Transcendence

You drag the cart full of fruit behind you, straight into the green glow of the Anomaly, stepping into the palace of Sanctum. 

Normally, you would just drop the fruit off in the palace and head back to Earth, but you have a stack of Intergalactic Council papers to sort through and sign off on, and you’re eager to procrastinate the task. So instead, you bring the cart out of the palace and down to the tavern, stepping inside behind a group of patrons. Jae looks your way as you walk towards the bar, and he smiles and calls out your name. You wave and point to the cart behind you. “I come bearing gifts!”

“We’ve been eagerly awaiting the next shipment from your garden! The last batch went pretty fast.”

You smile at him, proud that everyone seems to enjoy the food from your garden. “I’m glad you liked it! I’ll try to double up on the next batch for you.”

Jae winks, “We’d really appreciate that.”

As you start to unload the fruit into the various baskets around the bar, he looks up from the glass he’s cleaning, a look of realization on his face. “Oh! The last time Niylah was here, she said you guys were looking for old books or anything about history. We found a few things in the library and when we were cleaning out the palace. We put them up in your old room.”

“Thanks, Jae.”

“No problem. I think there are some old magazines too. The news is outdated, but it might be good if you're using them to teach Earth history to the young ones.”

“That’ll be great, I’ll go check them out.” You finish unloading the fruit and leave your cart downstairs as you head towards the stairs. You take them two at a time, turning and heading towards your old room. You smile as you approach the closed door, remembering the last time you were here nearly a year ago, before your wedding. You step inside the old room, your eyes immediately falling on the stacks of books and magazines on the bed, and you can immediately tell that even with your cart, you won't be able to carry all of these back in one trip. You decide to sort through them now and grab the ones that you think Bellamy will like.

You find the Aeneid by Virgil, Metamorphoses by Ovid, The Divine Comedy by Dante, and Paradise Lost by Milton, among others. You gather the books and start to stand, intending to take them and leave, until one of the magazines on the top of the pile catches your eye. It’s a Time Magazine, and normally you wouldn't have paid it any mind, but the front is a picture of a ship overflowing with people, hundreds if not thousands of them. The title reads: “The Battle of San Francisco, humanitarian disaster.” Beneath it, in a smaller print, is a subheading: “Charmaine Diyoza: terrorist or freedom fighter?”

You gasp a little, dropping the books in your hands and reaching out for the magazine, flipping it open to the table of contents. You scroll your finger down the page, reading each blurb until you find the one you're interested in about Diyoza, page 52. You frantically flip the pages, finally landing on a full page picture of Diyoza. You gasp a little when you see it. She looks only a few years older than Hope, her hair pulled back into a messy ponytail. She’s covered in dirt and blood, and her clothes look like a torn military uniform. There is no scar on her neck, her own SEAL team yet to come after her, and her mouth is open in a yell. You can tell from the ferocity of her expression that she’s giving orders, directing the refugees of San Francisco onto an aircraft carrier as others in the background shove the helicopters overboard.  

Honestly, she looks beautiful, and terrifying, and commanding, and all you can think is that Hope has to have this. She lost her mom in such a tragic way, and you know she still blames herself for it. Echo says that some days she doesn't even leave her bed, she just locks herself inside her room and refuses to come out for anyone. But you think that maybe having a small piece of her mother might help her. 

You sift through the rest of the magazines, finding a few more that offer pictures and stories about Diyoza, and before you know it, you have two armfuls of books and magazines to bring back to Earth with you. You manage to grab them all and carry them back down the stairs, setting them into your cart as Jae looks on with a smile. “Looks like a successful trip!”

You smile at him, truly unaware of just how much he’s helped you. “Thank you again, Jae. You can expect double the fruit when I’m here next!”

“We look forward to it!”

You wave your goodbyes to him and to Blythe Ann across the room, before wheeling your cart back to the castle and through the Anomaly to Earth. You stop by your own house since it’s on the way to Hope and Echo’s, and you drop the books and cart off before grabbing the magazines and continuing on your journey. The walk isn't far, and you mostly get to stay on the wooded path that connects nearly all of your houses. It’s a nice walk because the weather is mild, one of those early fall days where the wind is cool but the sun is warm. 

You reach Hope and Echo’s in a matter of minutes, walking through their own personal garden before knocking on the door. You only have to wait a few seconds before the door is opened and Echo smiles at you, “La lune!”

She reaches out and the two of you exchange a hug before she steps aside and motions towards the house. “Come in.”

“Thanks.” You step into their living room, looking around for any sign of the younger Diyoza. “Where’s Hope?”

Echo’s expression drops, her eyes darting to the back of the house. “It’s one of those bad days. She locked me out earlier.”

“Oh.” You feel a pang of disappointment before you hold the magazines out to Echo. “I found these, I thought she might like them.”

Echo’s face lights up as she flips through the magazines, finding the pictures of Diyoza, and she looks up at you with a smile. “You should try to give these to her, she might let you in.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, just…” She trails off, stepping into the next room to grab an apple and a cup of water off the table. “Try to get her to eat something if she lets you in.”

“I will.”

She smiles and passes the water and apple to you, along with the magazines, and you take the path back to Hope’s room, comfortable with the layout of Echo and Hope’s shared house. You knock on the door a few times with no answer, calling out your name, hoping it’s enough to get the door open. When that doesn't work, you knock again. “Hope, I have something for you.”

You wait, met by silence, before adding, “It’s about your mom.”

You're met by more silence, and you glance down the hall, where Echo stands watching, both of you looking disappointed. But then you hear the lock on the door click, and a smile graces Echo’s face before she slips away, unseen. You turn back to the door and push your way inside, your eyes landing on Hope, already curled back up in her bed. The curtains are drawn and the room is dark, none of the warm afternoon sun reaching the room. You close the door behind you, giving your eyes a second to adjust to the darkness before you cross the room and set the apple and water on the table beside her bed. 

Then, you move to the foot of her bed, sitting yourself down at the edge, keeping your voice soft when you talk to her. “I know what it’s like, you know. My dad got floated because of me. He made a deal to save my life, and I never got to thank him for it.”

You let out a shaky breath, surprised that grief still visits you, all these years later. “Anyways, I went to Sanctum today, and they had these.”

You flip the magazines open to the relevant pages, stacking them together before setting them beside you, right at her feet. Hope makes no move towards them, and she stays silent, the two of you sitting in her dark room without a word. You wait a few minutes before standing, guessing that she needs some time alone. “I’ll leave these with you. They’re yours, if you want them.”

As you start to step away, a hand reaches out and clamps down on your wrist, stopping you. You turn to look at Hope, her eyes locked on you, tears welling up in them. “Can you read them to me? The stories, I mean.”

You give her a small smile and nod your head. “Sure. You have to eat that apple though.”

Hope sits up, adjusting her position in the bed to make room for you to slide in beside her. She reaches out for the apple as you flip through the magazines, deciding to start with the Time Magazine article. You glance at Hope, and she takes a bite of the apple, bringing a smile to your face as you shift the magazine so she can see the pictures. And then, you begin to read, “Charmaine Diyoza, former NAVY Seal turned self proclaimed freedom fighter, is pictured here with the refugees of…”

-

1 year, 6 months after Transcendence

You sit in the chair in front of the mirror, checking over your appearance as Clarke carefully braids sections of your hair, tucking them out of the way for your date tonight. As she works, she muses, “Are you excited? I can’t believe it’s been a year already.”

You smile, thinking of the night you have planned for you and Bellamy. A trip to Sanctum to visit the new dance night at Jae and Blythe Ann’s tavern, followed by a moonlight picnic, like the one you used to have back at Arkadia. “Yeah, I think it’s going to be great. I hope Bellamy is surprised.”

Clarke smiles at you in the mirror. “I know he will be.”

She tucks the last few braids into place and reaches for the hair clips you wore at your wedding, arranging them in your hair as an extra touch. As she works, she asks, “What do you think of Raven?”

Your brows pull together and you try to lock eyes with her in the mirror, and you open your mouth to ask what she means. But then you see the light tint of a blush in her cheeks, her eyes avoiding yours, her tone tentative, and you suddenly realize what she means. You look away from her, back at your reflection, as you muse, “She’s pretty. Smart too. And she’s saved our asses a few dozen times, so we maybe owe her some undying gratitude.”

Clarke lets out a soft laugh before placing in the last hair clip, her eyes finally meeting yours in the mirror. “I think I’m gonna ask her out.”

“Yeah?”

She smiles, growing more confident with each passing second. “Yeah.”

You stand from your seat, turning to hug her, pulling away to smile at her and say, “I think that’s a great idea.”

“Thank you, la lune.” You have no idea what she’s thanking you for, but you know you have a reason to thank her, due to her weeks of support as you planned your first anniversary celebration with Bellamy, so you counter, “Thank you, my shining star.”

She smiles at you before grabbing your hand, tugging you towards the door. “Okay, time to go. You don't want to be late!”

You allow her to pull you out of the room and down the stairs to your waiting husband, eager to celebrate your first wedding anniversary.

-

2 years after Transcendence

You and Bellamy stalk through the woods, eyes scanning the brush around you.

He has a rifle slung over his shoulder, but he ignores it, favoring the axe in his hand to hunt with. You have your Grounder knife out, both of you tracking the boar that you can hear nearby. Somewhere up ahead, a twig breaks, and you and Bellamy turn to look at each other, eyes wide, and he nods towards it, taking the lead. You move behind him, scanning the woods around you for the wild animal, and as you do, you feel a wave of nausea pass through you. You shake your head, trying to will it away, hoping it’ll pass long enough for you to get through your hunt. But shaking your head only makes you feel worse, and suddenly feeling light headed, you pause, stilling your movements. 

It only takes a moment for Bellamy to notice your absence, and he backtracks towards you, immediately reaching out and putting his hands on your cheeks, lifting your face to look at him. “Hey, what’s going on? Why’d you stop?”

He can tell something is wrong as soon as he looks at you, a light sweat across your face despite the cool temperature, and you don't have time to answer him before you push his hands away, quickly turning to vomit. Bellamy reaches out for you, holding your hair back and putting an arm around your waist to support you, and as soon as you finish puking, you sway in his arms. You feel a rush of dizziness, and Bellamy turns you towards him again, looking you over with concern. “La lune, what is it? What’s wrong?”

“Must be a stomach bug or something. Clarke said something was going through the school last week.”

Bellamy leans down and scoops you up in his arms, and you let out a sound of protest. “Bellamy, I’m fine! I can walk.”

Bellamy shakes his head, already turning back towards the town. “I’m not taking any chances. The last stomach bug that went around took everyone out for nearly a week.”

You’re about to protest again, but Bellamy gives you one of those looks, and you know immediately that it’s a waste of time to argue with him when he’s being protective. He carries you all the way back to town, heading straight for the small clinic near the center, where Jackson works on a day to day basis. As soon as he door is open, Bellamy is yelling out, “Jackson! I need your help!”

Jackson comes running, and as soon as he catches sight of you, his expression morphs into one of deep concern. You wave him off immediately, trying to placate his worries. “I’m fine, Bellamy’s just being dramatic.”

But as soon as Bellamy puts your feet on the ground, your knees give out beneath you, and he has to quickly catch you before you hit the ground. Jackson’s concern returns, and he motions for Bellamy to follow him. “Bring her in here.”

Bellamy follows the doctor down the hall, sitting you down in a bed as Jackson turns to you. “What are your symptoms?”

“I’m feeling kind of weak and dizzy.”

Bellamy adds, “She threw up on the way here.”

Jackson hums, turning to reach for some equipment. “Could be dehydration. I wanna do some blood work on you, and if it’s dehydration, we can treat you and have you back home in a few hours.”

You nod, and Jackson readies everything to take your blood, the process going smoothly. He leaves the room with your samples, and you and Bellamy sit in there together, talking and distracting you from the worries that are threatening to take over your mind. You’re there for a few hours before Jackson comes back in, looking over his notes. “Okay, la lune, you’re definitely dehydrated, so we’re gonna get you an IV to bring those levels back up.”

You nod, about to thank him, when he flips another page, reading over a different result, and he looks up at you and Bellamy in surprise. Bellamy immediately gets worried, his voice cracking a little when he asks, “What?”

Jackson smiles, “It seems congratulations are in order. La lune, you’re pregnant.”

You let out a laugh of surprise, turning to look at Bellamy, whose mouth is dropped open in shock. As soon as you turn and lock eyes with him, you both start crying, and he dives at you, pulling you into a nearly bone crushing hug. He tucks his head into the crook of your shoulder, and you can hear him muttering through his tears, “Oh my god. We’re gonna be parents. I’m gonna be a dad.”

His voice cracks on the word, and you pull away, looking your husband in the face and giving him a watery smile. “You’re going to be the best dad.”

“You’re going to be the best mom.”

He pulls you in for another hug, both of you laughing with disbelief, tears still streaming down your faces. Your joy is overwhelming, though your worries are already beginning to creep in, despite just finding out the news. Because now you have to carry a baby. And raise it. And try not to fuck it up. And it’s overwhelming to think about, but Bellamy's presence is reassuring. Because you know that no matter what, he’ll be there. For you, the baby, your family. Bellamy will always be there.

Especially now, because you’re a mother.

And he’s a father.

And the Blake family is growing by one.

-

2 years, 6 months after Transcendence

Bellamy comes running into your bedroom, a bag in his hand. “I got them!”

You sit up in the bed and smile, and he collapses into the bed beside you, pulling open the bag to reveal a collection of fresh baked cookies, courtesy of Jae. You’re 6 months pregnant, and it’s the only thing that you, your body, and the baby are craving. And Bellamy, the angel that he is, is more than happy to make the trip to Sanctum to grab them for you. You’d go yourself, but Bellamy is very protective and insists on doing nearly everything for you. At first you tried to fight him on it, but eventually you gave in and allowed him to protect you in the way that he so desperately desires.

And now, the two of you lay in bed eating cookies, your shirt pulled up to reveal your round belly. Bellamy finishes his cookie and leans forward, pressing a kiss to your stomach before he whispers, “Hey there, little guy. It’s your dad. I just wanted to tell you that me and your mom love you so much. In fact, we love you to the moon and back again, can you believe it?”

You smile as you watch him, Bellamy already the attentive father that he never had growing up. And he's not the only one that’s attentive and protective of you. All of your family has turned out to be the same way. Clarke, Raven, and Madi come over nearly everyday. Octavia and Levitt bring food by every few days, sometimes with Murphy and an again pregnant Emori, who offers you and Bellamy first time parenting tips. Echo and Hope keep an eye on your garden, and Jackson has even taken to making house calls. You think it’s because your pregnancy is reminding him more and more of your mom, and when she was pregnant with you and Clarke, so you don't argue. Instead, you sit back and accept the doting, aware that everyone means well, and is just eager to offer their love to you, Bellamy, and your growing son.

Bellamy rests his hands on your stomach, his face lighting up every time your little warrior kicks, which is starting to feel like every few minutes at this point. The two of you exchange a smile, and his hand drops to a scar on your side, the one from the assassin in Mount Weather. He traces another scar, stretched across the middle of your stomach, from the first time you met Lincoln. He traces a few more, stretched along your arms, legs, and shoulders, though he doesn't find them all. As he does, he looks up at you, his face reverent as he whispers, “It’s incredible, you know. I’ve seen your body change so much since we met, but never more than I have right now. I’ve seen you stabbed, shot, bloody, and bruised and you always came out the other side stronger. You’re so damn resilient, and now you’re carrying our child. I’m in awe of you.”

You melt, Bellamy always good at leaving you as a nearly incoherent puddle of emotions. You smile at him, motioning for him to come closer, “C’mere.”

He smiles and moves back up the bed towards you, dipping his head to kiss you until you're breathless. The two of you smile as he pulls away, both of you high off your happiness. You've definitely had your struggles in your pregnancy, but moments like this have made it worth it. And you just know that meeting your son will make it all worth it too. 

Bellamy settles onto the bed beside you, pulling you into his arms, offering you another cookie as the two of you stretch out beneath your skylight, searching the stars. He’s quiet for a minute, before he says, “I’ve been thinking about names.”

You glance up at him, expression curious. “Yeah?”

“I know we haven't found anything we really love yet, so I started thinking about the things we love the most: the stars and history. And then, I remembered the first constellation you ever told me about, Orion. I thought that might be a nice name.”

Your face lights up as soon as he says it, and you smile at him. “I think that’s a really good name.”

He smiles at you before continuing, “For history, there was a Roman emperor named Alexander.”

“Orion Alexander Blake.” Your smile grows, knowing immediately that it's perfect. “I love it.”

He looks down at you, a big smile on his face. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

You feel a kick in your stomach, strong enough that Bellamy can feel it too, and you both look down at your stomach with a smile. “I think Orion likes it too.”

Bellamy’s smile grows larger, and he shifts his gaze from your stomach to your eyes. “Orion Alexander it is.”

-

2 years, 9 months after Transcendence

You stand in the kitchen, peering into your cabinets for something to eat while Bellamy waits for you in the other room, studying a chess board. 

He was adamant on getting up to get the snack for you, but you insisted on getting it yourself, not quite sure what you want. And as you stand there deciding, you feel a trickle of water run down your leg. Your stomach drops, already aware of what’s happening, but you look down anyways, confirming what you already guessed.

Your water just broke.

You keep your voice calm as you call out, “Bell!”

He immediately comes running, his face contorted with worry. “What’s wrong?”

He sees you standing in the kitchen, looking at him with wide eyes, and he immediately understands what’s going on. “I’ll get the bag and get the rover started. You go change.”

You hurry to your bedroom the best you can and change quickly, before heading out of the house and into the rover where Bellamy is waiting. His grip on the steering wheel is tight, and you know he’s just as nervous as you are, if not more. As he puts the vehicle into drive, you reach out and place a comforting hand on his thigh. “We’re gonna be okay.”

He puts his hand on top of yours, turning to glance at you quickly with a smile. “I think I’m the one that’s supposed to be comforting you right now.”

“I’m fine.”

But as soon as you say it, the contractions begin.

It takes your breath away, and Bellamy keeps looking at you with worry. “La lune, are you okay?”

You breathe through the pain, relieved when it stops, and you turn to give your husband your most reassuring smile. “I’m okay. The contractions are starting.”

The drive to the clinic isn’t long, but you’re thankful for the rover, gifted to you and Bellamy by the others just a few days prior. The two of you live further out than anyone else, and everyone was worried about how you’d get to the clinic once you went into labor. The distance is short enough that you could have walked, but no one seemed too keen on that idea, you included. Luckily, Miller found the rover a few weeks ago, in pretty bad shape, but with the help of some Bardo tech, they got it fixed up and gifted to you before the big day. 

Bellamy pulls the rover up right outside of the clinic, quickly hurrying to the other side to help you out and into the building. The only person in the clinic right now is Niylah, who stands from the front desk as soon as she sees you. “I’ll call Jackson, pick any room!”

“Thank you, Niylah.”

Bellamy takes you to the first available room and helps you into the bed, before he works on calling Clarke and Octavia on the radioes you all set up between your houses. You try to focus on the sound of his voice as you feel another wave of contractions, and a few minutes later, Niylah comes into the room to get an IV started and let you know that Jackson is on the way. He arrives quickly, and so does Clarke, Raven, Madi, Octavia, and Levitt. Everyone crowds in your room and helps to distract you from the increasing amount of pain you’re feeling, until Jackson finally says that it’s time for you to push. He kicks everyone out, except for Niylah and Bellamy, and he turns to you with a smile. “Okay, we’re gonna push now, are you ready?”

You nod weakly, getting worried before you turn to Bellamy. He reaches out to take your hand, smiling softly at you as he whispers, “You’re the strongest person I know, la lune. You can do this.”

And then you push.

Before you know it, a sharp cry cuts through the room, and you sag with relief, well aware that your son has entered the world. Bellamy cuts the umbilical cord and Jackson and Niylah take your son away, cleaning him up and checking him over. Bellamy presses a flurry of kisses to your face, whispering between each one. “I’m so proud of you. You did so amazing, natshana. I love you. I love you. I love you.”

You smile up at him, feeling the energy drain from your body as your adrenaline starts to fade, but in this moment, you are so unbelievably happy. Jackson brings your baby over to you and Bellamy, putting him into your waiting arms. You and Bellamy crouch together, looking down at your son and his tiny nose and tiny ears and tiny hands. You look over at your husband, both of you smiling, and you whisper, “Do you want to hold him?”

Bellamy nods, his smile growing even brighter, into one of those rare ones you treasure so much. It melts your heart as you pass Orion into his arms, Bellamy holding him so tenderly, so carefully. He smiles down at the bundle in his arms, tears springing to his eyes as he whispers, “Hey Orion, it’s dad. I’m so happy that you’re finally here. Me and your mom have been waiting so long to meet you. I love you to the moon and back again, and I’ll always be here to keep you safe.”

You look at Bellamy and Orion, your heart so full of love. At this moment, you’re not sure your life could be any better than it is right now. You have no idea just how wrong you are. 

-

3 years after Transcendence 

Your dazzling little sun comes to see you nearly every day now.

Correction, she comes to see Orion nearly every day. She comes over in the late afternoon, after his nap and before his dinner, to visit and play with him. Sometimes she brings Clarke, sometimes she brings Luca, but mostly she comes alone. You and Bellamy welcome the visit, Madi’s babysitting giving the two of you a little break to rest or work on dinner. 

Today, she comes alone, knocking on the door softly, but full of excitement. You pull the door open to her smiling face, and she pulls you in for a quick hug before barreling past you, into the living room where Orion and Bellamy now play. You close the door and quickly follow her, stepping into the living room to find your husband picking up Orion with a smile, both of them turning to greet Madi. Orion lets out an incoherent babble of happy sounds, and Bellamy nods and mutters, “Yeah, what he said.”

Madi looks between you and Bellamy, a big smile on her face. “I made Orion something.”

“Yeah?”

She reaches into her jacket, pulling out a thick bound book. You all step closer to her as she flips open the first page. “It’s his own sketchbook of stories. Some of them are yours and Clarke’s, some are mine, but some are from the others too. Eligius, Sanctum, Wonkru, Bardo. I interviewed everyone and drew what they described so that I could pass it onto Orion.”

She passes the sketchbook to you, and you flip through a few pages, Bellamy peering over your shoulder. You look up at your niece, equal parts touched and impressed. “Madi, these are incredible!”

“Thank you.”

Bellamy adds, “La lune’s right, these are amazing. Plus, Orion loves storytime.”

Madi looks at him, hopeful. “Really?”

“Really.”

“Can I read him something now?”

Bellamy nods, passing Orion into her outstretched arms. “Of course. Though, maybe hold off on the violent stories for now.”

She smiles, settling into one of the chairs with Orion in her arms, and you put the book in her lap as she looks up at you with thanks. “I’ve got a good story in mind.”

As you and Bellamy start to step out of the room and towards the kitchen to get a few things done, you hear Madi begin, “Orion, this is the story of your parents. They met on this spaceship in the sky, called the Ark, and…”

-

4 years, 2 months after Transcendence 

You hear a knock on your bedroom door, and you tug your shirt down over your head before yelling, “Come in!”

The door swings open, and Octavia stands in the doorway, a big smile on her face. “Hi, sister.”

You smile back, “Hi, trouble.”

“Trouble?” She scrunches her nose and you let out a laugh before you explain, “Bellamy told me that you put all the kids’ hands in warm water at nap time. He said he was changing kids for an hour.”

She tries to hold back a laugh, but fails, “Oops.”

“Oops is right.”

You cross the room towards each other, and she pulls you in for a hug, leaning back after a moment to inspect your outfit. “That’s what you’re wearing to date night?”

You look down at your clothes, pants, a long sleeve shirt, and some boots, and look back up at Octavia, your voice a skeptical, “Yes?”

She shakes her head. “I know you’ve been married for a few years, but this is awful.”

You balk at her, but she waves off your indignation, turning to grab a bag that she dropped near the door. “Lucky for you, I already anticipated this being a problem, so I brought you this.”

She pulls a top out of the bag, red, velvety, and dressier than anything you’ve worn since having Orion. You look at it with skepticism, but Octavia holds up her hand. “Before you protest, at least try it on first.”

“Fine.”

You take the top from her hand and quickly change into it, turning to look in the mirror as you do. And even though you’re still wearing your usual pants and boots, you already look way better than you did a few moments before. Octavia steps up behind you, pulling your hair out of its ponytail, freeing your hair and looking at you in the mirror. You look at yourself, shocked, not used to seeing yourself dressed up these days. Octavia smiles at you in the mirror. “I mean, you looked great before, you always do, but now you look hot.”

You laugh turning to press an appreciative kiss to her cheek. “Thank you, Octavia.”

“It’s always my pleasure.” She turns and motions to the door. “Now, go! Bellamy is waiting for you.”

You smile at her, both of you walking to the door together. “Thanks again for babysitting Orion.”

“There’s nothing I love more than visiting my nephew.”

You walk past the living room, where Levitt is sitting with your son, and the two of you exchange a greeting before you continue on to the door. You try to remind Octavia of Orion's bedtime schedule, but she shakes her head, pushing you out of your now open door. “There are no rules with Aunty O.”

You sigh and she smiles, hugging you one last time before closing the door in your face. You roll your eyes and turn, starting to walk down your porch, looking for your husband. But instead of finding Bellamy, you see a path of candles, leading you into the woods near your house, lighting the way through the rapidly darkening night. You follow the candles with a smile on your face, which only grows larger when you see what’s at the end of the path. 

Bellamy, standing beside a blanket, a spread of food and candles beside him. He grins when he sees you, eyes raking up and down your body with appreciation. “You look beautiful, Mrs. Blake, as always. More radiant than the moon.”

“Thank you, Mr. Blake.”

You reach him, and he pulls you in for a kiss, slow and sweet, and when the two of you break apart, you’re both smiling. You turn to look at the blanket, taking in the bowls of fruit and cookies spread across it. “And what’s this?”

“A picnic, like we had in Arkadia. Back when life was all about spying, Grounders, and Pike.”

You turn back to him, “Do you miss it?”

He shakes his head, taking your hand and guiding you down onto the blanket. “Not at all. I’m glad it led us to this moment, this life, but I wouldn't trade any of this right now for anything.”

“Me either.”

The two of you sit talking and eating and laughing, enjoying your date night together, enjoying each other’s presence. And later, after you’ve eaten one too many cookies, and Bellamy’s had a little too much Jo Juice, he looks at you, taking your hand. “Tell me about the stars?”

Normally, it’s a request that comes when he’s upset or angry or looking for a distraction. But now it is one of curiosity, and love, your husband eager to just listen to the sound of your voice. So you smile at him, and answer, “Of course.”

You lift your gaze to the sky, searching for one you haven’t told yet, your eyes finally landing on one overhead. You point it out and begin, “That’s Perseus. I’m sure you know a little about him already.”

Bellamy nods, confirming he does, but he makes no move to stop you, wanting to hear the story from you anyways. You continue, “Perseus and his mother, Danae, were locked in a box by his grandfather and thrown into the sea to drown. But instead of sinking, the box floated, carrying Danae and baby Perseus to a different country. They were greeted by the king of the new land, Polydectes, who immediately fell in love with Danae. But she refused to marry him, claiming she wanted to focus on raising Perseus instead. When Perseus was a young man, Polydectes hatched up a plan that would get him out of his hair so he could marry Danae. He tricked Perseus into agreeing to the mission, which was to slay the gorgon Medusa and bring back her head as proof. Polydectes was sure that Perseus would be killed and he would be able to marry Danae with ease, because Medusa had hair made of snakes, which turned anyone that looked at her into stone.”

Bellamy smiles at you, and you smile back, pressing a quick kiss to his forehead before you continue, “The next day, as Perseus began his mission, he sang songs to welcome the rising sun, which pleased the gods. Because of this, they decided to help him on his quest. The goddess Athena gave him a gold shield that he could look into, to avoid being turned to stone but still see what he was doing. Hermes gave him a pair of sandals that would help him move quickly, along with a new moon sword that was sharp enough to cut off Medusa’s head. Armed with these gifts, and a special sack to put Medusa’s head in, Perseus went to the cave of the gorgons and killed Medusa, putting her head into the bag and returning home. On his way home, he came across Andromeda, who was chained to a rock and being offered to a sea monster.”

Bellamy gasps a little, adding dramatic effect to your story, and you roll your eyes at him, pretending to be annoyed. “Luckily for Andromeda, Perseus used Medusa’s head to turn the monster to stone, saving her. She was so grateful she decided to marry him, and the pair continued back to Perseus’ home. They made it just in time to stop the wedding of Danae and Poydectes, which was being forced on Perseus’ mother. He used Medusa’s head to turn the king and his wedding guests to stone, saving his mother in the process. After that, it’s said that Perseus lived for a long time, happily married, and he eventually became king of Mycenae, which he founded. After he died, Zeus put him in the stars, alongside his wife Andromeda.”

Bellamy smiles, squeezing your hand a little. “I hope I get to be by your side in the stars.”

“Me too.” You're quiet for a minute, thinking before you muse, “I guess in a way, you are like Perseus. You’ve definitely slayed your fair share of gorgons and monsters, and you saved me.”

“Does that make me a king?”

You laugh, “Maybe not officially, but you’ll always be a king to me.”

Bellamy smiles at you, tugging you down into a kiss. “You promise?”

“I promise.”

-

8 years after Transcendence

You peer up from your papers and to the late afternoon sun, enjoying the feel of it on your skin. 

It’s the first time you’ve had quiet for a while, as Orion has just reached an age where he’s old enough to go to the school in town during the day. Before that, he stayed at home with you, making it pretty difficult for you to get any real work done while he was awake and playing. But you’re glad you got the time with him, your favorite little carbon copy of Bellamy. He looks just like him, dark, curly hair, a face full of freckles, a bright smile. But he acts just like you, and you can see so much of your personality in him already.

You shake your head, trying to clear the distraction from your brain, giving yourself a wave of nausea instead. You have just enough time to push your papers out of the way before you turn and puke. Your brows pull together, wondering what that could be about, until you remember your pregnancy with Orion. 

And how you found out.

You gather your things and quickly stuff them inside your pack, glad that you’re already in town and not far from Jackson’s clinic. He’s in the lobby, talking to one of the nurses in training when you walk in. He looks up at you with a smile, his gaze questioning. “La lune, what brings you here?”

“I think I might be pregnant.”

Jackson’s eyes go wide and he motions for you to follow him. “Let’s go find out for sure.”

You follow him back into one of the rooms and he draws some blood, returning not long later to inform you that you are indeed pregnant. You let out a surprised little laugh, and Jackson asks, “We can do an ultrasound right now, if you want. Or you can wait for Bellamy.”

You’re about to say you want to wait for Bellamy, but then you think it might be a nice surprise to have an ultrasound picture to show him when you announce the news. “Let’s do one now.”

“Great.”

He takes you into a separate room, pulling out a machine and moving it over your stomach, searching for the baby and its heartbeat. After a moment, he finds it, the heartbeat thudding rhythmically, bringing you a sense of peace. But as Jackson shifts, his eyes go wide, and he whispers, “Oh my god.”

The words send alarm bells off in your head, and you look at him with fear. “What? What is it?”

“You’re having twins.”

You look at him with shock. “What?”

He turns to you with a smile, pointing out the two little blobs on the screen. “It looks like you’re having twins!”

You laugh with disbelief, tears pricking your eyes. “Oh my god. Bellamy’s gonna flip.”

Jackson prints a picture of the ultrasound for you, both of your little babies visible, so you can bring it home to Bellamy. He sends you on your way with a few vitamins and a big piece of news. You practically run the whole way home, excited that Bellamy is already there when you arrive. You come into the house in a flurry of excitement, unable to contain it, and Bellamy looks at you with amusement. “What?”

You can see Orion playing nearby, clearly distracted, so you turn to your husband and say, “Close your eyes and hold out your hands.”

He gives you a weird look, but he complies anyways, holding out his hands for you. You place the ultrasound picture onto his palms, and say, “Open.”

He opens his eyes, and looks down at the picture in surprise, his face instantly lighting up and he turns to you. “You’re pregnant?”

You nod, your face split into a grin, and you motion to the picture. “Look closer.”

Bellamy looks down at the picture again, his eyes finding the two arrows that point to each baby. His mouth drops open in shock, and he looks up at you with wide eyes. “Are you...is this…”

You finish for him, “Twins!”

“Oh my god.” You laugh at the fact that you, Jackson, and Bellamy all had the same reaction, and Bellamy laughs too, happy. He reaches out and scoops you into his arms, pressing a kiss to your lips. From across the room, your son sees you, and he pulls himself to his feet, proclaiming, “I want a kiss too!” 

You and Bellamy pull away, smiling at each other before he leans down and picks up Orion, lifting him in his arms. Both of you press a kiss to his cheeks, and he laughs, delighted, before you pull away and say, “Hey buddy, we have some news…”

-

15 years after Transcendence

You finish up with the paperwork in front of you, looking up to glance at the clock.

“Is it 3 already?”

Madi looks up in surprise, glancing at the clock too. “I guess so.”

You stand from your seat, stretching before you reach out for your bag and start to pack your things inside. “I’ve gotta go. The twins requested that I walk home with them today so they can show me their favorite tree to play in.”

Madi smiles, shaking her head a little. “They’re so cute.” She stands and starts to pack her own bag, glancing at you in between. “I’ll go with you. Luca has to work late tonight, and I promised I’d pick up Abigail from daycare.”

“Perfect.”

As the two of you grab your bags and head towards the door, Clarke comes tearing inside, looking between you both. “Are you leaving?”

“Yeah, we have to go get the kids.”

Clarke smiles at the mention of her nieces, nephew, and adopted granddaughter. “I want to come. The council can wait until tomorrow.”

“That’s the spirit!” 

You all laugh as Clarke runs to grab her things, glad that your twin is deciding to join you and Madi today. She works so hard all of the time, and she takes her job as Intergalactic Chancellor very seriously. Sometimes Raven comes to eat dinner with you and Bellamy, because Clarke is working late and she doesn't want to be alone. You’re always happy to welcome her, the woman becoming so much like a sister to you over this last decade. 

As you, Clarke, and Madi make the walk down to the school, you can't help but think about everything that’s happened just with the three of you. Clarke and Raven are now married, and have been for a few years. Madi married Luca a couple of years ago and they have a child together, a three year old girl named Abigail, named after your mother. You and Bellamy haven't had any more kids after the twins, Selene Ara and Helen Carina, each named after a woman from a Greek myth and a constellation. They’re now 7 and still very identical, looking just like you and Clarke did as kids. They have Bellamy’s soft heart and kind spirit, and you love them more with each passing day. 

Orion is now 12, the same age Madi was when she became Commander, a burden that you can't believe you allowed your niece to take on. Because now, every time you look down at Orion, you can't imagine putting something like that on him. And Clarke’s reaction to your betrayal makes much more sense to you now. In the moment, you were so focused on saving her, that you allowed Madi to take on more than she should have. Though everything has long since been forgiven, it’s something you think about often. 

Still, walking between Madi and Clarke, you’re in awe of the women they’ve both become. They inspire you every day to be a better wife, mother, and woman, and you’re so grateful to have them in your life. 

It’s not long before the three of you arrive at the school, the door and windows to the building all thrown open to allow the influx of cool afternoon air inside. The three of you stop just outside the door to the building, watching as Bellamy sits surrounded by all of the kids inside. Your kids, Miller and Jackson’s, Murphy and Emori, Hope and Jordan’s daughter, Echo’s son, all of them spread out around Bellamy. Technically, the school day is over at this point, but every day after school they gather around Bellamy and he tells them all a story from your collective history. The kids love it, all of them proclaiming it their favorite class of the day, and it’s easily won Bellamy the title of ‘favorite history teacher ever’, something he proudly reminds you of on a weekly basis.

But you’re happy that he’s so happy, so at peace. He hasn't picked up a gun in years, not even to hunt, and he hasn't fought anyone in twice as long. And he's more than happy to teach history to the kids every day, and share stories of your history, before coming home to a house full of laughter and love. As he finishes his story about the 100’s first day on the ground (the kids favorite), his eyes lift to you, sensing your presence. He smiles at you and wraps up the story, looking over all of the kids. “That’s it for today!”

They all groan, wanting another story, and Bellamy smiles as he shakes his head. “Maybe, if all of you are really good this week, I’ll tell you two stories on Friday.”

They all clap with excitement before breaking away and grabbing their bags, turning and running to the door, where the rest of their parents, your friends, stand waiting. The twins come running at you as soon as they see you, and you pick one up in each arm for a quick hug. “Mommy, you came!”

You smiled down at Selene, “Of course, I came! I can't wait to see your favorite tree.”

Bellamy walks over then, baby Abigail in his arms, fast asleep. He passes her to Madi, who takes her with a smile of thanks, before he turns to greet you with a kiss. “Hey, beautiful.”

“Hi handsome.”

He smiles and presses a kiss to Clarke and Madi’s cheek, greeting them both. Orion is the last to join your group, giving you a hug as he reaches you. “Hi mom.”

“Hi baby.” You hug him back, glad he’s still at that age where he wants to hug his mom, and then all of you turn and head out the door. Bellamy locks up the school behind him, before he takes each of the twin’s hands in his own. Orion grabs Clarke’s hand, and you smile at them as they walk slightly ahead of you, talking all things medical. You turn and look at your husband, walking with your daughters, and your smile grows, reminded of how grateful you are to have this family and live this life.

-

50 years after Transcendence

You and Clarke step out onto her porch, cups of tea in hand. You both walk over to the chairs she has waiting, sliding into one of the seats, situated one beside the other. You’re silent, your relationship long past the point where you have to fill the silence, more than content to sit side by side, saying nothing. You’re both well into your 70’s by now, Clarke’s blonde hair faded to a pale gray, yours doing the same. Her hands and face are wrinkled, but her smile is just as bright and her mind is just as sharp as it was 50 years ago. 

And as you take a sip of your tea, she hums, “I’m going to resign as Chancellor next week.”

You turn to her with a look of surprise, “Really?”

You had retired a few years ago, along with Bellamy, but Clarke hadn’t. You were convinced she’d work up until the day she died. “Yeah, I just don't have as much patience for it these days. I’ve been doing it nearly 50 years at this point, and I’m ready to step back, pass the torch on to someone else.”

You nod, take another sip of your tea, and muse, “I think that'll be good for you. Spend the rest of your days with Raven and the kids and grandkids.”

She nods, and your mention of the kids reminds you of the small gift tucked into your pocket. “Oh, I have something for you.”

You pull it out and pass it to her, and she sets her tea aside to unwrap it, revealing a charm, a silver star with a gem in the middle. Clarke smiles at it, admiring it. “It’s beautiful.”

“It’s from the girls. They each made one.” You pull your moon necklace from beneath your shirt, a few different charms hanging on it at this point, thanks to the many gifts you’ve received over the years. Clarke’s bracelet looks the same, now something more akin to a charm bracelet, her wrist twinkling every time she moves it. She secures the new charm to the bracelet, looking down at it with a smile. “It’s come a long way from original gifts dad gave us all those years ago.”

“Definitely.” You brush a finger over the original moon, whispering, “I wish they were here to see us. To see who we’ve become. And our families, god I wish they could meet the kids.”

“Me too. But they know, I believe that. And I know they’d be proud of you, la lune.”

You turn to her with a smile, “I know they’d be proud of you too, shining star.”

-

63 years after Transcendence

You step out of your house, welcomed by the sounds of joy and laughter. 

Your eyes roam the yard, searching for your husband, but he surprises you by calling out from beside you. “I’m right here, my love.”

You turn to see his smiling face, patting the seat beside him in the rocking chair on your porch. You smile and move to sit next to him, the two of you softly swinging as you look out into the yard. Gathered there are your friends, kids, grandkids, and your first grandkid, a boy named Jake. As you look out at your large family, Bellamy grabs your hand and squeezes it gently. “This is what I always dreamed of. When I wrote you that note, back before we even knew about Praimfaya, this is what I wanted for us. A big family, full of kids and grandkids, all of them a product of our love. I wanted to live the rest of my life with you by my side.”

You turn to smile at your husband, pressing a kiss to his ageing face. “That’s all I ever wanted my love, and you made my dreams come true. I’ve gotten to live a full life with you, and I wouldn't trade a second of it for anything.”

Bellamy whispers, “Me either.”

The two of you turn back to look at the scene in front of you. Echo is out in the yard, braiding flowers into some of the girls’ hair, and Hope is helping her, reminding you of your days on Skyring. Gaia is sitting with Madi, the two women still close after all these years. Murphy and Emori are playing with the youngest grandkids, always so full of energy when it comes to the kids. Their own seven children gave them 15 grandchildren, and a handful of great grandchildren. Echo only ever had one son, with a man from Wonkru named Michael. Hope and Jordan have two kids, one son and one daughter, and Madi and Luca have three kids of their own. Octavia and Levitt, and Clarke and Raven all decided to remain childfree, choosing instead to be the best aunts and uncle a family could ever ask for. They’ve spoiled your kids more than even you have. Miller and Jackson have a few kids of their own, thanks to the tech on Bardo, and they just welcomed their first great grandchild around the same time you and Bellamy did. 

Your own son brought home a man of his own a few years ago, one he met while studying in Bardo. They both became doctors and remain childfree, but they spoil their nieces and nephews from the children your twins had. Helen married one of Murphy and Emori’s sons, making you related to the cockroach, and they had five kids of their own, including a set of twins, identical boys. Selene married a woman from Sanctum, and they created their own family with Bardo tech, welcoming two kids together. One of Selene’s daughters gave birth to your first grandkid, Jake, who is asleep in his mother’s arms, sitting out in the open air.

And now, sitting on your porch, your hand held tight in Bellamy’s, you can't help but reflect on your life as a whole. You spent the first almost 18 years of your life thinking that you would never see the Ark beyond the walls of your room. You thought you’d live and die in the same room with your parents, and that you’d never make friends, never fall in love. Then Shumway came along. In the moment, you were sure that he ruined your life. But your dad made a deal to have himself floated, just to save you and give you a chance to live beyond the life you had dreamed. Living without your dad was difficult, but it gave you the chance to go to the ground, and it gave you the opportunity to meet Bellamy. 

Your life changed after that.

Meeting your soulmate is one of those experiences that you can't describe to others. You can try, but they’ll only understand when they meet their own soulmate. Until then, they can try to understand your words and hope one day that they’ll get it. But if you had to try explaining the feeling, you’d say that it feels like falling. It’s a rush, and your stomach drops, but you know someone is there to catch you. Raven always says it’s like spacewalking. Tethered to a ship, the only thing between you and the endless universe is this small space suit. That space suit is love, protecting you from the dangers of space, while also allowing you to explore it. 

But no matter how you describe it, it's magical. 

It’s life changing, and even if you hate your soulmate at first, the way that you and Bellamy did, there will always be that inexplicable pull to each other. Half the time you followed him out into the woods, you never knew why. You just knew that you had too. But now, you get it. You know it’s because he is a part of you, part of your soul, and you can't resist the pull to him even if you wanted to. And from that pull came love. A kiss in the middle of a battlefield, a proposal while chained up in a cave, a wedding after saving the human race (again). Three kids, seven grandkids, and one great grandkid, all a product of your love.

You’re not sure you would have believed that this would be your future if someone had told you back then. Back when life was all about Grounders, fighting, Mountain Men, and war, you would have never thought that peace was possible. But it is, and you and everyone you know and love has spent the last 63 years proving that it is. The alien species that created the stones leaves you alone, allowing the remaining survivors of the human race to just be. They seem to have no interest in any of you beyond the few that choose to transcend when they turn 25. 

You are suddenly pulled out of your thoughts by someone yelling, “Nana luney!”

You smile, turning your focus to the voice, your eyes landing on one of Miller’s grandkids, David. He smiles at you, waving you over, “Come tell us a star story!”

You glance at Bellamy and he grins at you, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Duty calls.”

You stand and start to walk over to the gathering group, only to be stopped by Selene, who calls from inside the house, “Time to eat!”

The kids all groan, and you smile at them. “I’ll tell you one after dinner, I promise.”

They smile and all run into the house, grabbing their plates and returning outside. Orion brings a plate for you and Bellamy, helping you both down the stairs and into the grass with the others. You’re having one of your first nice days in weeks, and everyone agreed that they wanted to eat outside. Someone set up blankets and tables for those who need it, but you feel good enough to plop down on a pillow beside Bellamy, Clarke, and Raven. 

Once everyone has gotten their plates and returned outside, you begin the dinner the same way you have every month for the last 63 years: with a toast. Bellamy lifts his cup, looking over the many faces gathered there. “To those we have lost, and those that aren’t here with us today.”

You know everyone is thinking of those that have passed in the last few years: Indra and Niylah, Jae and Blythe Ann, Jackson. Losses that affect each of you when they occur, every one of you so close after everything you’ve endured together. Still, all of you have promised to celebrate their lives and not mourn their deaths, so you lift your glasses and repeat, “To those we have lost, and those that aren’t here with us today.”

Everyone drinks, honoring those that are absent, hoping that they’re somewhere in the stars watching, smiling at the tradition that has never died.

-

67 years after Transcendence

The gods look down at the devoted couple, held tight in each other’s arms, both of them taking their last breaths together. And as the couple passes on, the gods exchange a look, tears present in some of their eyes. “It was a love story for the ages.”

“A privileged, invisible twin falling for the demoted guard that only ever tried to do right by his little sister. A love that was felt across the Universe as we all watched on, rooting for them. A love that crossed the stars and left their mark on multiple planets, and a moon. I think there’s only one place for them.”

The god gives the other a surprised look. “Do you think so?”

“They belong in the stars. They always have.”

“Then it must be so. Let it be known that we have an 89th constellation being created: The Lovers.”

Year round The Lovers shine down on Earth, reminding all those they left behind of the power of their love. They live on as legends, their story told for generations to come. As a kid, you never thought you’d be up among the stars, your life told as a story, the same way your father told you the stories of countless others. But because of Bellamy and your unforgettable love for each other, you become part of history forever. 

And it all started over 200 years ago, on a dying spaceship floating over the Earth, when a cocky ex-guard came running down the abandoned halls of the Ark, finding you held tight in Shumway’s arms.

Thus beginning a love story that would span from this lifetime, and into the next.

Forever. 

-

Fin.

-

One 68 page outline, 14 pages of written notes, 3 maps, and 2 calendars later, we did it!!! That’s it, my friends. That’s a wrap. It’s insane to think that I sat down in January of 2020 and decided to write a 7 season, 101 chapter rewrite. It’s insane to think that I actually did it. This journey has been so wonderful. I have learned so much, had so much fun, and truly grown from writing this monster of a series. But more than anything, I’m fucking grateful. I have met so many lovely people through this series, made so many incredible friends, read so many kind comments and messages. And I just gotta say: thank you. Thank you to those that have been there since I posted 1.01 all those months ago. Thank you to those of you that showed up later, throughout the seasons. Thank you to all of the binge readers, the weekly readers, and those of you that commented on every upload. Thank you to everyone who ever sent me a message or ask or commented. Thank you to the quiet readers too, the ones that have enjoyed sub rosa silently. Fanfiction is an escape for so many of us, and I'll never judge the way that you consume content. So even if we’ve never interacted or talked before, but you took the time to read this series, then thank you!!!

I have more projects planned and more series coming out, including a sub rosa au mini series, another Bellamy x reader series, and others! I’m also going to be posting in a few other fandoms as well, if you’re interested. If you like me or my writing, I invite you to stick around. If sub rosa is the only content of mine you think you’ll ever enjoy, just know that it’ll always be here for you. 

Okay, that’s all for now. I love you all more than the stars, in this lifetime, and in the next!!!!

#the 100 #the 100 rewrite #bellamy blake #bellamy blake x reader #bellamy blake fanfiction

[katnissmellarkkk]

“Why are you wearing my sweater?” “Because it smells like you.”

Hi! So thank you for sending a prompt! I hope this is good enough? I’m so bad at writing fluff that isn’t kind of angsty, so I tried. In my defense, the angst isn’t at all between Everlark. But anyways, I enjoyed writing this so thanks for sending!!! 

Oh, also it’s important to know ahead of time before reading that a). this is set post-mockingjay and b). in my version of post-canon, Panem took on some semblance of our modern day winter holidays. So they have a celebration that’s kind of a variation of Christmas.

My feet trudge down the stairs, still somewhat unwillingly, although no one is forcing me. I could stay upstairs in my room all day if I so wished, I could hide under the blankets and just pretend. I could just pretend today was an ordinary, boring day and that most of the people I know won’t be convening in my house for the vast majority of the afternoon and evening.

But I don’t. Because that wouldn’t be fair to do to Peeta.

Peeta, who loves the celebrating and the family gatherings and the newfound holidays this country has adapted since the end of the war, since the end of Snow and Coin and the hunger games.

And it’s not that I don’t want to see my family. It’s not that I necessarily want to be a hermit in my own home, like Haymitch.

I just really don’t like this new holiday. For whatever reason, it has made my skin crawl every year, for the last six years that it’s been slowly making it’s way across the districts. Every year, people in every district alike put out decorations, purchase candy and trees, cook meat and pastries and, though every district calls the holiday a differing variety of names, everyone all celebrates alike. With their family, traveling to see loved ones, thankful for the safety not one of us can take for granted now since the war.

Maybe it’s that seeing the whole country uniformly celebrating anything still makes my skin crawl, as I still see loud, boisterous crowds in my dreams at night, and though the people celebrating this holiday are probably nothing like the faces I see in my sleep, I still can’t shake the connection.

Or maybe it’s that not all my family survived the war. Maybe it’s the fact that I don’t want to celebrate anything if I can’t celebrate with everyone I love.

Either way I still make my way down the stairs and through the living room, just the same. I walk past Haymitch, drunk and passed out on the floor and the embers burning in the hearth next to him. I walk into the kitchen and meet the eyes of my husband, currently stirring batter of some kind in the bowl I did my best to handcraft for his birthday two years ago.

“Hi,” Peeta greets, his eyes visibly surprised to see me. “What’re you doing up?”

I give him a look as I slide into a tall chair by the counter. “It’s nine-thirty,” I deadpan. “I’m usually up at six.”

“I just figured,” he starts before hesitating, measuring me carefully before second-guessing his words. “I know you don’t like the new holiday traditions,” he finally amends.

I shrug my shoulders, non-committal. “It’s not like I can hide away while everyone’s here,” I state, as if I wasn’t contemplating doing that exact thing on the way down the stairs.

Peeta though touches my hand and gives it a squeeze, sympathetically. “I could tell them you’re sick?” He offers softly.

A part of me wishes to take him up on that offer but I shake my head plainly. “It wouldn’t be right.”

“I can tell everyone to head over to Delly’s and Kanon’s. Delly doesn’t mind changing her plans and hosting. We can just spend the day you and me.”

“And Haymitch makes three?” I tease, but give a half smile as I turn down this idea too. “I’m fine, Peeta. Really. I can even help you finish up...” I look at the bowl of mixed ingredients, attempting to decipher what he’s concocting. I’ve been married to him long enough to put together the smell of vanilla, cinnamon and chocolate, but still manage to come up empty to what his final product will be.

He just laughs at my confusion. “No, actually, I was planning on taking a break anyway,” he says, putting the bowl and spoon down, but I easily know he’s lying. He never stops halfway through making anything for a break, no matter how sore his arm can get from stirring.

“Really?” I raise one thick eyebrow at him, knowingly, as he walks around the counter and pulls at my hand to follow him.

As I stand, Peeta evidently takes in my attire for the first time since I came downstairs.

“Why are you wearing my sweater?” He asks, his own blonde brows furrowing now.

“Because it smells like you,” I say defensively, hugging it to me like I’m afraid he’s going to steal it away.

But his eyes soften almost imperceptibly and he gives me a look that is so loving and so sweet, it would disgust me if it were from anyone else.

“Come here,” he directs evenly, tugging me by hand. I let him guide me to the living room, taking a seat on the coffee table while he finds residence across from me, on the couch. We both, probably unwisely, ignore the drunk sleeping off his stupor by the flames.

Peeta takes my hands in his and leans down to press his mouth to my knuckles. “Talk to me, Katniss.”

“There’s nothing to talk about,” I insist, but my voice is too quiet and he’s been married to me for over six years and he knows me too well at this point. He knew me too well at sixteen, let alone now, after all these years.

Proving just that, he shakes his head. “Something’s bothering you. And I don’t like it when you’re not happy.”

I shrug then, because I have no defense to really give. “I just... dislike Yuleday,” I admit simply, using the most common term for the holiday.

I feel his large hand cover my cheek tenderly. “Is this because your mom is bringing Rod this year?”

My jaw clenches at the mention of my mother’s new husband. I open my mouth to deny it but then I look into Peeta’s kind, understanding blue eyes, that have never judged me, that have sought so hard for so long to never let his demons cast shadows over them again, and I just can’t. His baby blue eyes stop me in my tracks, stop me from telling him a blatant lie. “It’s a part of it,” I admit begrudgingly.

I feel his hand move to rub one of my shoulders. “I know. I know it’s hard,” he validates. I lean over and kiss his fingers as they try to massage the tension away. “But it has been almost fourteen years since your dad died, Katniss. Your mom... it’s okay for her to move on. I think it’s a good thing, that she was able to open her heart again to someone new.”

I nod mechanically, knowing all this is true, logically. “Yeah,” I try to agree, but it comes out unevenly and I can’t quite make myself look at him now.

“It’s easier to accept from an outside position,” he notes kindly.

But I shake my head. “It’s not just that, Peeta. It’s... it’s not just that she remarried or that she didn’t tell me about him until they were engaged. It’s... it’s everything that came with her getting remarried.”

Already knowing what I meant without asking me to verbalize, he adds, “It’s the step-children that make it more difficult to swallow.” His words are a clear statement, not a question.

I shrug at that, knowing it’s true. “It just feels odd that she has this whole other family now,” I explain, feeling immature and ridiculous and petty.

Practically reading my mind again, Peeta tries to comfort me. “That’s natural, Katniss. For you to feel that way, I mean. I would.” He lifts my chin so I have to look at him now. “I would feel the exact same way. Especially...” he cuts himself off now, once again second-guessing what he wants to say.

“Especially what?” I prompt.

“Especially if I lost my sister like you did. I would be sensitive about my mother gaining step-kids too. Younger step-kids, at that.” He gives me a long measuring look in which makes me feel naked. And not in a good way, like usual. “That’s what really bothering you, after all.”

My eyes widen, startled by his call out. “What?”

“That’s why you’re really upset. About the holiday, about everyone coming over, about your mom’s new family. Because it just reminds you that Prim is missing.”

I stare straight ahead blankly, unable to respond. Nothing hurts more than that simple truth, that glaring fact, that cuts me right down to the bone. That the real reason I hate this new celebration is because my sister would absolutely love it and she’s not here to experience it. She’s not here to see it and I don’t know how to enjoy it properly, even for Peeta’s sake, without her here too.

“Come here,” Peeta says now, and he tugs me by hand from the coffee table and into his lap. His fingers sift through my hair tenderly and his lips find resistance against my forehead. After a long beat, he whispers against my temple, “She would want you to make new memories. Prim would love Yuleday. And she would want you to love it.”

“I know she would love it,” I say and we both pretend not to hear the way my voice cracks. “But she isn’t here to love it and... I feel wrong celebrating without her. I know it’s been eight years-“

“Katniss, there’s no time limit on grief. Trust me, I know.” Of course he did. He lost his entire family in one fell swoop and I’m over here whining about my loss. I feel his hand slip up my sweater—well, technically his sweater—and rub my back. “Do you remember what I said at our toasting?”

I crane my neck back from it’s place against his throat, giving him a puzzled look. “Off topic but yes. I remember everything from that day.” And I do. I remember how perfect his outfit was, how it wasn’t too casual or too formal, just the right simplicity. I remember what he said and how the warmth of the fire reflected the warmth inside my heart. I remember the bread he made and how it was the exact the bread he tossed to me in the rain all those years ago, the exact bread that had saved my life. I remember the look in his eyes as he stared at me, the tears he shed of utter happiness, because we were finally able to love each other safely and wholly and without pressure or reservations.

“Do you remember what I said about Prim?” He inquiries softly.

And then I understand why he brought up our toasting. “Yes,” I affirm, my voice quiet again.

“She’s always here, for all the big events and the small ones. She lives inside you, Katniss. Your sister is a part of you, no matter what.”

I blink back the moisture in my eyes, trying my hardest not to let any of it fall. “I know.”

“Prim would want you to be happy,” he says again, kissing my hair, his fingers dancing over my braids. I put my hair in two today, knowing he liked it when I did. “Happy with and for your mother.”

I let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding. “I do hope she’s happy,” I murmur finally, my grey eyes boring into his. “I hope Rod makes her as happy as you make me.”

I feel his lips before I realize he’s leaning in, our mouths connecting instantaneously. His lips are softer than ever, but still firm, still able to create an electric spark inside of me. I thought the kiss on the beach was good when I was seventeen, but in reality, it was nothing compared to how he makes me feel eight years later. It was nothing compared to the fireworks he erupts now, without even so much as trying.

But he can’t go without teasing me for long and as soon as we pull apart, as I trail my lips downwards to begin hungrily kissing his throat, he doesn’t even miss a beat, saying, “I hope Rod makes your mom as happy as my sweaters make you.”

I immediately pull my mouth away, my eyes narrowing. “I’m leaving.”

“No,” he pleads, grabbing me by the waist as I try to stand and tugging me back into his arms again. His lips find where my neck meets my shoulder and he sucks, putting a vast amount of pressure there, knowing it’s my utter weakness. “Don’t leave me. I love you,” he mumbles gently against my skin.

I can’t help my smile then as I reach my hand up and touch his cheek, making sure not to interfere with him continuing his task. “I love you too, Peeta.”

But another voice joins us, effectively ending the moment. “Can you two get a room?” Haymitch barks, his eyes bleary as he leans his head up off the floor now, still waking up.

“Actually, we got a whole house, Haymitch,” Peeta assures smoothly. “But thanks for making yourself at home in it.”

Haymitch only offers a thumbs up in response before flopping back on the hardwood, groaning in response to the dying fire’s last sizzling flames.

“If only we could use our house to our... liking. In peace.” I don’t even bother keeping my voice down or hiding my meaning from Haymitch.

“Girl, if you want to talk like that, save it for after company leaves.”

“You’re not company, Haymitch,” I shoot back.

“I’m talking about everyone else coming today, sweetheart.”

Oh. It had momentarily slipped my mind that we were expecting people any moment now. “We’re really grateful you could grace us with your presence early,” Peeta says to the hungover man, who’s now reaching his hand closer to the fire, attempting to absorb any heat he can.

“Shut it, boy. It’s Yuleday. Have some kindness for an old man who saved your life.”

“By kindness he means alcohol,” I murmur, eliciting Peeta’s chuckle.

“She’s not wrong,” Haymitch adds under his breath.

“Let me up,” Peeta pats my butt, signaling for me to get off his lap. “I have to go finish the chocolate cinnamon rolls before our family gets here.”

But as he starts to make his way back towards the kitchen, I follow behind him, grabbing his hand to catch up. “What’re you doing?” He asks, his voice confused.

“I’m going to help you finish baking.”

His brow push together. “What suddenly got you in the spirit?”

I shrug, making my way ahead of him and grabbing the bowl he was using before to stir the batter around. “Like Haymitch said. It’s Yuleday.”

Peeta’s eyes relax and then soften as he looks at me, no doubt taking in the image of me in his sweater, mixing batter around in the bowl I handmade him. Just as I finish stirring all the ingredients together, he wraps his arms around my waist and starts planting kisses on my neck greedily.

And I decide in that moment, as I twist around to capture my husband’s lips again with my own, to do everything I can to be happy for my mom.

To be as happy for her as I know somewhere Prim is for me.

#everlark #thg #the hunger games #my writing #everlark fanfic #fan fiction #fanfic #prompt #Drabble #whatever ya wanna call it #katniss everdeen #Peeta mellark #play with me 🥰 #also I hope everyone enjoys my humor that I named her moms new husband from district 4 Rod like fishing rod #ok just me with my weird humor look away

[chaseatinydream]

pirate king (62) || atz

Yeosang stumbles.

No, he doesn’t trip over his own feet, nor does he fall over something on the deck. His knees simply buckle under the weight of his father’s word, as if they’ve lost all ability to keep him upright, and he actually stumbles, nearly falling to the deck before Wooyoung catches him by the arm and hauls him upright, concern written all over his face.

“What?”

Hongjoong whirls on Kang Yongsun, eyes going dark. “You have exactly five seconds to get off my ship before I open fire on the lot of you scum.”

Something sharp, painful tugs at your chest, and you tug on your captain’s sleeve lightly, his intensity burns. “Captain… you swore not to…”

He bites back a hiss, eyes still never leaving Captain Kang’s face, true to his reputation as an exceptional commander he does not seem to be fazed the slightest by your captain’s threat. Instead, he doesn’t even look at him, eyes fixed only on his son.

“But…” Yeosang stutters, face as white as a paper sheet and mouth working soundlessly as he searches him mind for words. “But… But didn’t Mother run away from home after giving birth to me? Didn’t she-”

“We told you that… but at that time… the family believed that you were the one who caused your mother’s death… after all, she died giving birth to you, and that birthmark under your eye…” Kang Yongsun pauses, voice turning grim. “Well, people believe that birthmarks are signs that you’ve been marked by Fate… that you’re a curse to the family you’re born to.”

Yeosang swallows, fingers tentatively reaching up to touch the dark blemish resting on his cheekbone. His whole life, he’s known what his birthmark means, knows that he should be grateful that he’s even alive when some other members of the aristocratic class would rather kill the child at birth rather than have the public finding out about them having a cursed, blemished child…

“I loved your mother…” Kang Yongsun says softly and Yeosang is broken out of his reverie as he stares at his father, not once in his life has he seen his father so openly and emotionally vulnerable. “I loved her more than anything else in the world, Yeosang. Her health was always bad since the two of us were young, but I insisted on marrying her… and after we got married, she insisted on having a child even though the physicians told her not to…”

Something cracks in Yeosang’s chest. His father, the love was genuine, the love for his mother so real he can feel it himself. For the woman that has never been present his entire life, for the woman who gave birth to him, for the woman who he’s never met.

“Father…” Yeosang begins to say but Commander Kang puts up a hand, some sort of sad smile twitching on his lips. “I will not lie, I believed that you were the reason I lost her. The second you were born, I never even got to hold you in my arms, instead I was holding my wife and your mother as I watched the life leave her eyes… and she asked me, ‘Is the baby alright?’ with her last breath… and I hated you for that, Yeosang.”

“That wasn’t even his fault-” Wooyoung pipes up angrily, stepping forward but you catch his arm and drag him back much to his protest, your eyes are still fixed on the Commander, the pain of his loss shining so strongly in his gaze that it takes your breath away. “Let him finish.” You murmur softly, and while Wooyoung sighs unwillingly he eventually falls silent, still staring at Kang Yongsun with every malicious intent he can muster.

Yeosang, on the other hand, doesn’t move an inch, eyes swimming with indescribable emotion - painful, guilty, lost - because what is he supposed to be feeling? His whole life, he’s known that his father hated him, and while he might have never thought much about the reason why, he’s always assumed that it had been his father’s responsibility; that he had simply seen something in Yeosang he didn’t like. But to find out that he was the one who had been chasing after his father’s back when the entire time, his very birth had been what drove a wedge between them in the first place.

“It wasn’t your fault that your mother died, I know.” Commander Kang says softly, and Yeosang seems like he finds it difficult to lift his head, he can’t meet his father in the eye properly. “But at the time, all I could see was what I had lost. While you might not have chosen to be marked by the Fates, even though I did see you as my flesh and blood to be loved, every time I looked at you, all I could see was the cause of all my pain and suffering.”

Yeosang’s head hangs, tears slipping down his cheeks as he grips the hem of shirt very tightly. “I’m sorry, Father.” He manages and Commander Kang merely shakes his head, eyes softening a fraction as he looks at him. “If you have anything to be sorry for, Yeosang, I have a lot more in comparison.”

Yeosang’s eyes widen, and one of his hands reaches behind him, you take it instinctively and squeeze lightly, so he knows you’re there. The Commander takes a deep breath, looks at the sky for a moment, and continues, a little more slowly this time. “Even if you did cause your mother’s death, even if I had lost her, I had no right to take it out on you.”

“But then if you knew…” Yeosang’s voice cracks, fingers tightening around your hand almost painfully with the weight of his emotions, “then why did you give me up to captain? Didn’t you hate me? Isn’t that why you tried to get rid of me?” At that, Commander Kang’s eyes darken slightly, his brows furrowing.

“For that too… I would like to apologise… while I know nothing can ever make you forgive me for selling you to the pirates,” his eyes meet your captain’s for a split second and Hongjoong nearly growls, “I still stand by what I did. As a captain of a ship, all the members of the crew are my family as much as you were, Yeosang.” You see the two officers who had a little outburst earlier nodding unconsciously along to their captain’s words.

“And if it meant saving my crew, I would have given you up every single time no matter how many times I was faced with the choice.” Kang Yongsun says, it’s so brutally honest it nearly cuts you to the core. And yet, even if some part of you protests that he should have found some way, any way to have saved Yeosang, you too know that the Commander had been faced with no other choice. Kang Yongsun’s eyes meet your captain’s. “I’m sure your captain would understand what I mean.”

“You should have found some way to save him.” Hongjoong snaps suddenly, hand fisting around th hilt of his cutlass so tight his knuckles are nearly bloodless. You’re mildly startled at the volume of his voice, wondering why on earth he seems so emotional about this, it’s not like your captain to be like this. You put your stump gently on his shoulder, hoping that he’ll calm down but he doesn’t. “You should have done something, anything, to save him from me. That’s what a father is supposed to do.”

Commander Kang gives him a sharp glance. “I had no other choice in that situation. The only two options were to give something up of value or have the lives of all my crew lost. The thing of highest value at the moment was Yeosang, and it was the only thing I could think of to save the lives of the rest of my men.” Then his eyes darken. “If I were to force you to give up the woman we’ve been commanded to search for or have the rest of your crew hung, what would your answer be then? Which would you choose to give up?”

You startle at having been so suddenly addressed, but find your eyes drawn towards your captain anyway, anticipating his answer with bated breath. Hongjoong opens his mouth, fully intending to reply sharply, but then he pauses, eyes meeting yours hesitantly.

Would he?

“But then why would you chase the Treasure down once again?” Yeosang asks suddenly and you turn away, distracted, not noticing the pained look on your captain’s face as he stares at you. Commander Kang sighs, casts a glance behind him at where Gunho’s body lies and gives a small, unreadable smile, filled with so much emotion you can’t even begin to describe it. “I wanted to make amends, Yeosang. I thought that if the Pirate King was truly as terrifying as the stories described him to be, and yet he’d still accepted you in return for the lives of my crew, you must have been very valuable to him… and that he would most definitely keep you alive. If I found you, and you were still alive… I wanted to save you and bring you back. I wanted to start things anew, Yeosang.”

Your eyes fly wide open. Start anew? Start anew with Yeosang, as father and son?

“Start things anew?” Yeosang echos your thoughts blankly, as if he can’t quite believe that his father would ever say such a thing. As far fetched as his words sound, nothing raises the alarm that he’s lying, or doesn’t mean what he says. Every word is genuine, from the heart, determined. He genuinely does want to make amends. “You mean… be together? Like father and son? Like… family?”

“Yes.” Commander Kang nods, but now there’s a gentle smile tugging ever so slightly at the corner of his mouth. “Be together, just the two of us, like father and son. If you’ll allow me to.”

Hongjoong’s expression is stony, unreadable, something dark brewing in his eyes as he watches the two of them, Yeosang’s eyes slowly well at with tears at the thought. But then Yeosang pauses, turns back to his captain, and reaches over to tug at Hongjoong’s hand, pulling him forward to stand face to face with the Commander.

“He’s taken care of me.” Yeosang tells his father softly and Commander Kang raises an eyebrow as he stares down at the younger captain with something approaching surprise. “He took care of me like I was his own flesh and blood brother, and he’s saved me more times than I can count. If you’re to be my father again,” Yeosang takes a deep breath and looks at his captain so warmly that Hongjoong’s head dips to avoid his gaze, “then I cannot have you threatening the lives of the family I made on this ship.”

“The famed, notorious Pirate King took care of you?” Commander Kang says with a hint of astonishment and your captain meets his eyes defiantly, as if challenging him to deny the fact. But to his complete surprise and shock, the Commander simply takes a step back and bows - much to the horror of the officers behind him - before he speaks once again. “I thank you for that, Pirate King.”

“I don’t want your thanks.” Hongjoong says darkly, nearly spits at Yeosang’s father, and the Commander simply nods before straightening up. Your captain turns to Yeosang, concern written all over his face as he takes Yeosang’s hands in his. “Yeosang, what is it you want to do? If… If you would want to return with… that man…” his expression sours at the word, but he continues speaking, “I will not stop you. It is your choice to make.”

Yeosang pauses for a moment, eyes sweeping across the deck as he looks at the face of every crew member, imagining saying goodbye to each of them. His gaze rests on you and you give him a slight smile, as long as he’s happy, you’ll support any choice he makes, even though you’re reluctant to see him go.

But then Yeosang shakes his head. Commander Kang and your captain both wear surprised expressions, although while Commander Kang’s melts into understanding, your captain’s darkens into something unfathomable. “This is my family. I promised to live and die with them, and so I will. I’m afraid you’ll have to go on without me, father, at least until the day Captain decides to retire.” He gestures at the crew mates around him and Commander Kang smiles a bit brighter this time, a little more nostalgic. “You’re really my son… I understand.” He sighs, and steps forward to place one hand on Yeosang’s shoulder, and this time Yeosang meets his gaze with clear eyes, no longer clouded by doubt or pain. “The day your captain retires… Don’t forget, that you will always have a home in me on Nassau.”

The moment is so intimate that the rest of the crew turn their faces away, as do the officers behind the Commander. You find yourself looking away as well at the expanse of sea behind you, watching the sea barely shift from ink to deep blue, the sun must be rising soon.

“I know.” Yeosang says, happily and so radiant you can barely look at him, his eyes are fixed on his father’s back but not chasing after it any longer. Commander Kang steps back, before he turns and bows one last time to your captain, who still refuses to look at him.

“I thank you as well, Pirate King. If you were to ever change your mind about the deal, come to Nassau. I promise that I’ll see all of your men cleared of all charges.” He says, but your captain simply nods expressionlessly, before gesturing carelessly to the gangplank with one hand.

“Get off my ship.”

“Let’s go.” Commander Kang orders his men and they spring to move immediately, marching down the gangplank and vanishing into the vegetation of the island, Commander Kang’s eyes meet his son’s one last time and Yeosang waves in farewell. Then they’re gone from sight, the only imprints left of their presence the footsteps left in the beach sand and the smell of smoke in the air.

There’s a long silence.

“So…” Yeosang is the first to break it, before he glances up at his captain. “That’s that.”

“That’s it.” His captain echoes blankly, not really looking at Yeosang but at where the Commander had been standing, hands still clenched tight, expression unreadable. Worried, you’re about to ask him what’s wrong, but before you can, your master bursts out of the infirmary with a grin large enough to split his face in half.

“Yunho’s fever has broken!”

And when the deck erupts in massive cheers and squabbles as they quarrel over who is going to get to visit the lovable battlemaster first, you think that the worst might finally be behind you.

>>>

It’s late at night when you step over the unconscious forms of your crewmates sprawled across the deck. Some are still clutching on to tankards of brandy in their sleep, Seonghwa had decided that to celebrate Yunho’s recovery and Yeosang’s reunion with his father, they would break open a keg of some of the most expensive alcohol they had on board. And as usual, they have gotten drunk, and as usual, they have been up to their antics, but, not as usual, you find yourself afraid to head back to your bed in the infirmary even after most of the crew have passed out drunk, knowing your master would be there…

You find yourself ascending the stairs to the quarterdeck, a blanket wrapped tight around your shoulders, meaning to find some comfort in the solitude. Instead, you find your captain leaning against the railing, a bottle of red wine in hand, looking out at the expanse of sea before you, barely lit by the slightest hint of moonlight peeking out from behind the clouds in the night sky. He’s not drunk, at least you don’t think so, so you step up next to him and rest your forearms on the railing, looking out across the sea like he is.

“Not in the mood for celebration, captain?”

“So it was me.” Your captain murmurs quietly under his breath and you turn to look at him in surprise, usually he’d greet you or acknowledge your presence directly, you hope it’s because he’s comfortable enough around you to speak his mind freely. “In a way, when I thought I saved Yeosang…” he barks out a laugh, broken and exhausted and your heart clenches painfully for him, “I was the thing that separated him and his father.”

You turn to look at your captain more carefully. His expression is blank, like white canvas, but there’s something painfully lonely in his eyes, as if no one can understand what he’s going through. You’re suddenly seized by an overwhelming compulsion to take that off his face, to replace the darkness in his eyes with the fire you love so much. “You also saved him, though.” You say quietly, and Hongjoong takes another swig of the wine, still watching the sea. “The Commander might not have realised his mistake if you hadn’t taken Yeosang from him. In the end, things have worked out, haven’t they?”

Your captain smiles, a bitter, melancholy smile that has your heart aching as he takes another swig, as if it can dull the pain in his eyes. “I thought I had put my own father behind me.” He suddenly says, and you start, remembering the expression he had worn when the Commander had told Yeosang that he wanted to start things afresh. “But after today, a part of me just…” His words trail off, filled with such bitter longing you know exactly what he wants to say even though he doesn’t. And you understand now, why exactly he had felt so much today.

Just wishes that could have been my father instead.

“I hate it. I don’t want to think about him anymore, and yet…” he tosses the bottle into the ocean and takes a deep painful breath, fingers tight around the railing, “and yet I wonder… if there was a reason my father hated me as well? If there was something, anything that could explain why… why my father would do this to me? ” His fingers trace the stitching of his eyepatch before they fall back to the side, limp.

You don’t know what to say, silent and wondering yourself. So you simply stretch out your arm and he gently wraps his fingers around what’s left of your left wrist silently, before he turns back to watch the sea, a lonely, silent melody playing in your ears as you watch him; as if the sirens are calling to you once again.

His smile is sad.

“If only Yeosang’s father had been an easier man to hate.”

#ateez #ateez fanfic #ateez fanfiction #hongjoong #seonghwa #yunho #yeosang #san #mingi #wooyoung #jongho #ateez pirate king #w; ot8 #w; fanfiction #w; pirate king

[taeyongdoyoung]

summary: you are a mermaid and you save a handsome man from drowning but little do you know it’s not his first rodeo when dealing with mermaids. seonghwa, a former prince, is currently hongjoong’s first mate and boyfriend. hongjoong is the captain, the pirate king of the most savage crew across the seas. and you want nothing to do with them. not because they’re pirates, but because they’re humans... 

ship: mermaid!reader x prince/pirate!seonghwa x pirate!hongjoong

genre: little mermaid!au, pirate!au, angst, romance, fantasy

author’s note: seonghwa is loosely based on prince eric because let’s be honest, hwa is an actual prince; hongjoong is loosely based on captain hook (the once upon a time one); reader is veeeeery loosely based on ariel, i guess

warnings: suicide mentions, murder, drowning

word count: 2.1k

chapter two ☠️ chapter three ☠️ chapter four ☠️ chapter five ☠️ chapter six ☠️  chapter seven ☠️ chapter eight  ☠️ chapter nine ☠️ chapter ten ☠️ chapter eleven ☠️ chapter twelve ☠️ chapter thirteen ☠️ spotify playlist

You were swimming across the sea without a worry in the world when you spotted a man in the near distance. He was obviously in trouble because he was screaming for help and was possibly on the verge of drowning. 

You could see that he was a skilled swimmer because he was still fighting against the odds but judging from the swirling water around him, the problem was of a different nature. He’d gotten caught in a very dangerous whirlpool. You could see a giant ship further away but unfortunately, it would be impossible for anyone to come in time to help the drowning man. 

You sighed to yourself because you had been warned against getting involved with humans. You didn’t want to end up like your distant cousin who’d been turned into sea foam, because of her feelings for a human. But you couldn’t exactly watch someone die right in front of you. So, you swam towards the drowning man. 

Once you reached him, he’d already been submerged under the blue. You dived right into the whirlpool fearlessly and grabbed his sleeve, pulling him towards the surface. He was pretty heavy but you did your best to save him. As soon as you had gotten him out of the whirlpool, you began swimming towards the giant ship, hoping the other humans would take him off your plate. By the time you reached it, the man had regained consciousness.

“Did you just…save me?” he asked quietly.

“Don’t mention it,” you responded.

“Can I know the name of my saviour?” the man inquired.

You didn’t reply and just kept knocking on the wooden lower half of the ship, hoping the other humans would take him in so that you would get rid of any unnecessary human drama.

“That won’t work,” he chuckled and started screaming, “Yah, Joong, come get me, you ass!”

“Wait, you know someone on this ship?” you asked in confusion.

“Duh, I fell from here. Well, I got thrown out, more specifically.”

“Why would you want to come back, then?” you were even more confused.

“It was as a joke. I bet they didn’t expect me to fall into a whirlpool,” the man explained.

“Ah, I see.”

You were suddenly interrupted by a man on the ship who was rushing to help.

“Oh my God, Hwa, I’m so sorry!” he threw a rope into the sea and the man you’d saved grabbed it.

“Are you coming? I need to properly thank you for saving my life.”

“I c-can’t,” you whispered and looked down apologetically. The man still hadn’t realized what exactly had saved him.

When he finally noticed your tail, his eyes widened in shock.

“I have to go,” you murmured quickly and dived back into the sea.

“W-wait,” the drowning man spoke but it was too late. You were already gone.

☠️☠️☠️

Seonghwa’s POV

I climbed up the rope and was greeted by the captain’s tight hug.

“Dude, are you okay?” Hongjoong asked me in a worried voice. “What happened?”

“I’m fine. I swam away for a bit because I was mad at you for throwing me overboard as a joke. I didn’t expect to fall into a bloody whirlpool.”

Hongjoong shook his head.

“I didn’t mean for any of this to happen, you have to know how sorry I feel. I was so worried…”

I smiled fondly.

“Yeah, you should have thought about that before throwing my ass-“

“Who was she?” Hongjoong interrupted.

“She…saved me. I think she was a mermaid,” I informed him.

Hongjoong stared at me in disbelief.

“Mermaids aren’t real, man.”

“I saw her tail, Joong. She was very much real. And remember that story about the prince from the kingdom nearby?”

“It’s just that,” Hongjoong argued with me. “A story. Not real.”

I disagreed with him.

“I know what I saw, man.”

“You must be exhausted,” Hongjoong thought I was making this up. And it was honestly frustrating that he didn’t believe me.

“Didn’t you see her? She was right there!” I was beginning to get aggravated.

“It was just you, Hwa. You swam back on your own.”

“But…you just asked me who she was?!”

“No, I didn’t,” Hongjoong denied his own words. “You should get some sleep.”

Well, he was right about one thing. I was on my last legs and needed to go to bed immediately.

“Fine. But we’ll talk more about it tomorrow,” I said, determined to get to the bottom of it.

☠️☠️☠️

Hongjoong’s POV

Okay, so maybe I lied. I had indeed seen the mermaid. But in my defense, I was trying to protect Seonghwa. Everyone knew the story about the mermaid who had given up her life to be with a human prince. Everyone knew she was eventually turned into sea foam. But nobody knows what really happened to the prince after that. When he found out what had happened to the mermaid, he was overwhelmed with grief and ended up killing himself. I didn’t want anything bad to happen to my first mate, my best friend, Seonghwa. I didn’t want to risk him falling for a mermaid. I didn’t want to lose him. But I had a feeling he wasn’t going to let this go.

The next day, of course, proved me right.

“Hey, Captain, we heard you almost killed our beloved first mate last night,” Wooyoung said casually during breakfast.

I gave him a deadly glare to shut him up.

“Yeah, Cap, what’s that about?” San, the treacherous son of a bitch quickly defended his boyfriend’s stance. “Hwa told us you threw him overboard and then he was saved by a mermaid!”

I frowned at Seonghwa for being so quick to share everything with the crew.

“Relax, guys,” Hwa laughed easily. “Joong didn’t mean to kill me. But the mermaid part is very much real,” he pointedly stared at me.

“Just drop this already, will you?” I scolded him, exasperated by this whole mermaid story.

“Damn, I wish I was awake to see that!” Yeosang chimed in eagerly.

I rolled my eyes.

“She had really long hair and her tail was glowing. She was really beautiful,” Seonghwa spoke dreamily, which was making me even angrier.

“Yah, you must have not seen a girl in too long,” I couldn’t take it any longer. Mermaid this, mermaid that, it was too annoying! “She wasn’t that beautiful!”

“Ha!” Seonghwa laughed triumphantly. “I knew it! You saw her too, didn’t you? You were lying last night!”

Fuck. I’d exposed myself. The crew looked at us suspiciously, assessing the situation.

“Fine, I saw her,” I confessed reluctantly. “Will you let it go now? Mermaids are nothing but trouble.”

“And us, pirates aren’t?” Seonghwa scoffed sarcastically. “Just admit you’re jealous.”

“Ooh, Mom and Dad are fighting!” Wooyoung snickered, which earned a couple of quiet chuckles from Yeosang and San. These little bastards were living for drama.

Seonghwa and I gave them an angry look simultaneously, which immediately shut them up.

“Not jealous, just worried. You don’t know the full story about that prince…” I started.

Hwa’s brows furrowed.

“You said it was just a story,” Seonghwa called me out on my bullshit once again.

“I’ll tell you everything. But not in front of the kids.”

“Come ooooon,” Wooyoung whined. “We’re old enough to know!”

I shook my head and grabbed Seonghwa’s hand, pulling him away.

☠️☠️☠️

Seonghwa’s POV

“What do you mean the prince killed himself?” I asked in horror. “I thought the asshole lived happily ever after with some princess.”

“That’s what his parents want you to believe. They were too ashamed to let the world know the truth,” Hongjoong explained patiently.

“And how do you know the truth?” I eyed Joong in suspicion.

“Because I am the one who found his body and buried him.”

“That’s…impossible, Joong,” I argued passionately, because he only knew part of the story. He didn’t even realize I knew more than he did.

“Why? Because you want to believe in fairy tales?” Hongjoong was growing tired by my stubbornness to drop this subject.

“No, because I am the prince from that story,” I finally told him what nobody else on that ship knew.

“You’re delusional,” Hongjoong laughed. “I buried the prince. And he looked nothing like you.”

“That’s what I wanted people to believe,” I said coldly, paraphrasing his earlier words. “I’ll tell you everything if you promise not to ask any questions until I’m finished. Can you do that for me?”

Hongjoong nodded unwillingly.

“Once upon a time, I was travelling with my parents, the king and queen, across the sea. But after a fight with them, similar to my fight with you yesterday, I foolishly jumped into the sea. But I was younger, then, not at all skilled at swimming. I began to drown. Until a mermaid saved me. We fell in love at first sight and spent a week together in a secret bay. She promised she’d find a way to turn her tail into legs so that she would be with me. I believed her and returned to my parents. When she found me again in the castle, she had lost her voice. It didn’t matter to me and I promised I’d marry her. But my parents were strongly against it. They wanted to get rid of her. So, they bribed the sea witch with treasures and turned my love into sea foam. The stories are all lies. My mermaid didn’t die because I didn’t love her back. She died because I did. When I found out what my parents had done, I was so miserable I considered ending my life. But I knew I had to live for her, I wanted to avenge her death. So, I tricked the sea witch. I told her she could have my kingdom on one condition – she had to transform her body into mine, making herself into an identical twin. She asked what I wanted in return and I came up with a stupid explanation that I just wanted to die but didn’t want my parents to be miserable, which is why she would come as a replacement to me. The witch’s greed was so grand that she believed every word I said. As soon as the transformation had been completed, I killed her. Well, myself. That’s what I wanted it to look like. And I wanted my parents to suffer for me the way I had suffered for my love. But I couldn’t get arrogant and risk being found out. So, I located a good-hearted wizard and asked him to change my face into something different. I told him my story and he didn’t want anything in return. He took pity on me and just wanted to help me. Thus, the explanation as to why the corpse you buried looked nothing like…the way I currently look. When I was stealing fish from that port market where you found me, I decided to start anew. To forget everything and move on. But last night, when that new mermaid saved my life, I couldn’t help but be reminded of my old love, of the past.”

I fell silent, expecting Hongjoong to ask me a million questions to check the validity of my story. Instead, he fully believed me and asked something unexpected.

“Why…why are you telling me all this now?” Joong whispered and in that moment he looked nothing like the terrifying pirate king I’d first met.

I shrugged.

“You’re the one who brought up the real story. I couldn’t let you go on thinking it was the truth.”

“When I asked you to come on board that night…were you planning on ever telling me?”

“No,” I admitted. “I was intending to carry this secret to my grave. But I trust you, Joong. And it was eating me inside.”

Hongjoong sighed deeply.

“Damnit, Hwa. How am I supposed to deal with this, huh? You’re a bloody prince, the very thing us, pirates, are sworn to steal from.”

I smiled.

“That’s what you’re worried about?”

“What do you suggest?” Hongjoong spat angrily. “Worry about the mermaid? Everything I’ve ever known about you was a lie.”

I grabbed his face.

“Not everything, Joong,” I looked into his eyes. “The way I feel about you hasn’t changed. It’s as real as freaking mermaids, man.”

Hongjoong blushed adorably and pressed his forehead against mine.

“What do you want me to do?” he whispered fondly.

“Aren’t you the one giving the orders on this ship?” I teased him.

“Shut up,” Hongjoong laughed. “Tell me.”

“I want to find her,” I said truthfully.

“I’ll help you.”

“You don’t have to,” I reminded him.

“I want to,” Joong insisted.

“Together, then?”

“Always.”

To be continued…

#ateez #seonghwa #hongjoong #seongjoong #seonghwa x reader #hongjoong x reader #ateez fanfic #ateez imagines #ateez x reader #pirate au #mermaid au #writing

[opheliadawnwalker3]

Siren *Part 3*

Author’s Notes: I just wanted to thank everyone for reading and reviewing my first multi chapter fic. Your feedback really means a lot to me and I hope to keep delivering! Thanks again :)

Synopsis:   Reader is married with a young son and working as a waitress at a popular nightclub in the 1930′s. Her husband is fatally ill and his new treatments are swiftly draining their meager savings. Desperate, she struggles to make ends meet until she catches the eye of the son of a notorious crime boss. Loki Laufeyson is dangerous, powerful and very wealthy and isn’t used to being told no. He offers her a way out of her money troubles. But how far is she willing to go to save her husband?

Part Three: The calm before the storm. Reader gives Richard his final dose.

Part One  Part Two

*****************************************************************************************

Loki was much rougher with you this time. Your thighs were still tender from when he pushed your legs up to your chest. You still smell like him. His cologne and musk clinging desperately to your used body. When he was done, Loki calmly lit a snipe and coolly slid a thick wad of money down the front of your dress. Thankfully, he let you keep your underlings this time.

After Loki was finished with you, you insisted on being dropped back off at Louie’s. You did not want him to know where you lived. It would only bring nothing but trouble. The rest of your shift flew by in a haze. You could feel several of your coworker’s eyes on you. Wondering why you would possibly leave with Laufeyson and his trigger men. Curious, yet no one had to courage to outright ask. You just played it off as normally as you could until it was time for you to leave. Inwardly, you were in absolute turmoil. The thick wad of cash tucked into your dress feeling more burdensome by the second.

In your bathroom, you stare in the mirror as you splash cold water on your face. You hardly recognize the woman staring back. With your features pinched together in silent judgment, you look several years older. You feel disgusted with yourself. You look down at your hands.The same malicious hands you pleasure Loki with, are the same ones that drips arsenic into Richard’s throat.

You’re suddenly overwhelmed with the crushing weight of your decisions on your shoulders and your fingers grasp the sink tightly. You squeeze your eyes shut as a wave of panic and nausea roll over you. You grit your teeth as the tightness in your chest increases. You struggle to control your breathing.

You are a whore and a murderer. But you can’t quit now. Not after everything. It will all be over in a few days and then you could move on. Start your new life with your boy.

Your eyes fly open. You needed to see him. You need to remind yourself who you’re doing this for.

You let out a shaky breath and pull yourself away from the sink and your judgmental reflection. You pass Richard’s door, comforted by his pitiful wheezing snores. One less thing to worry about tonight.

Johnny lay sleeping in his crib, unbothered and untouched by the world. His chubby fingers clutching onto his favorite stuffed rabbit. You reach down and softly brush his hair out of his face as silent tears slide down your cheeks. Your heart clenches tightly with unwavering love and guilt.

It will be worth it. To give him a good life, it’ll all be worth it.

*******************************************************************************************

You yawn as you stand at the kitchen counter, waiting for the toast to pop up. The rays from the sun trickle in through your kitchen window, bathing the apartment in rich golden light. You slide Richard’s glass of orange juice towards you as you lift the small clear bottle from your apron. Just a few more drops. Maybe one or two more for good measure.

It had to be today. You had prolonged the inevitable long enough.

Today was the day Richard would die.

You stir the mixture together, just as the toast pops up. You butter them, then add his favorite blackberry jam. A couple of slices of bacon sit on the side.  You would rather avoid another steak incident if you could. 

You take a deep breath and gather yourself as you pick up the plate and glass. Quietly walking down the hall so you don’t wake Johnny, you knock softly on the door.

No reply.

You turn the doorknob slowly and peak your head in. “Richard? I brought you some breakfast. I wasn’t sure how hungry you’d-”

You halt, taken aback at the sight of your husband. It had barely been ten hours since you looked in on him and yet here he was on death’s door. Richard slowly turns his head to look at you and his lips twitch with a  faint smile you haven’t seen in months. 

“Do I...look as awful as I feel?” He sputters out in a playful tone. You allow a fleeting expression of sadness to pass your features before crossing to stand by his bed.

“No dear, you still look as handsome ever. Do you...feel like eating today? Can you sit up for me?”

Richard winces as he attempts to sit up and you have to help pull him up the rest of the way. You push the glass of orange juice towards him.

“Here. I imagine your throat is sore from all that coughing. Freshly squeezed, just how you like it.”

Richard coughs wetly before picking up the glass, tired eyes looking over his small breakfast. Much to your surprise, his expression seems...grateful. His eyes meet yours as you move to sit on the bed next to him, placing a hand on his knee in a deceivingly caring gesture.

“You’re a good woman.” He rasps calmly as he takes a long pull of orange juice. Unwillingly, you feel a small tug on your heart. How long had you waited to hear any words of kindness from the man you married? For any sort of genuine warmth from the man you fell in love with?  For years he controlled and terrified you. Beat you until there was hardly anything left. It was far too late now.

So why is there a pang in your heart now? Is it just guilt? Or is there some sick twisted part of you that still loves him?

You offer a small smile and a reassuring pat on his knee before you rise from the bed.

“Well I’ll...just leave you to your breakfast-” you’re cut off when Richard quickly reaches out and grabs your hand. You flinch at the sudden movement.

“No wait. Please...stay.” Richard pleads in an unusually weak voice. You look down at him, unsure. He withdraws and you feel his fingers trace the scar on your hand. His eyes briefly shimmer with what you could only describe as guilt. “I mean...I would really like the company.”

You nod complacently, sitting back down on the bed. You watch silently as Richard takes another gulp of orange juice and nibbles on his toast. After a couple of minutes, Richard finally breaks the silence.

“Do you...remember where we first met?”

You were taken aback and you place your hands in your lap to avoid squeezing the sheets nervously.

“Of course I do. At the Feed Rack Stand. You were there showing off with your Pallies.”

“And you were there with your parents. You stuck out in your bright pink dress. You saw a kid drop his ice cream cone and you gave him yours. I knew right then I was dizzy for a dame.”

“Richard...” You trail off softly.

“And that Fourth of July picnic out at the lake? You brought that Buttermilk Creme Pie that everyone thought was just aces. Then we watched the sailboats pass by and that family with the young twins? That’s when we decided to try for a baby.”

You remembered. You were originally going to wear your pretty white sundress, but the bruises on your arms still hadn’t healed. So you had to wear a drab blue dress with longer sleeves. The evening fireworks terrified you with their sudden booming.

“And when I saw you holding Johnny for the first time...you never looked more beautiful...”

“Stop this...you’re going to get better. The doctor is coming in two days with the new treatment.” You lie through your teeth. You were going to hell there was no doubt about it. To tell a man he would heal when you’re actively pouring poison down his throat will surely earn you a seat on Satan’s lap. But you needed to say anything to get out of that room. 

Richard lets out a strained laugh and shakes his head. “I just...I know I didn’t always treat you right. My father...he wasn’t a very good man and I...guess I take after him.”

You feel a conflicting stab of both rage and empathy flicker through you. Your stomach feels knotted and heavy with conflicting emotions. None of this makes it right. Nothing he says now will take away everything he’s done. So why is it affecting you so?

Instinctively, you feel your eyes well up. No this is ridiculous. He’s treated you with nothing but cruelty and coldness for years but now that he’s showing you just a shred of decency, you were suddenly wracked with remorse? 

You needed to leave. Now.

You slowly stand, struggling to keep your conflicting emotions from your face. Your eyes glance over the near empty glass of orange juice. You hated Richard with every fiber of your being. You wanted to cause him just a shred of the pain he’s caused you. But you didn’t want to watch him die. You couldn’t.

“I need to go tend to Johnny. He should be waking up any minute.”

“I want...him to remember me. Can you do that for me? If nothing else, Just make sure my son remembers me.”

Your throat suddenly feels dry and you swallow hard. Johnny will never know you. I’ll make sure we both forget. You nod solemnly before turning to leave.

“Wait...please.”

You pause, looking down at the shell that used to be Richard. The face that had looked down at you with such animosity and scorn in the past, now just looked pathetic and frail.

“It wasn’t...all bad was it? Our life together?”

You take a deep breath and lean down to kiss his forehead. The stale smell of approaching death clings to him. You decide to answer truthfully. To offer him this small modicum of mercy before he dies by your hand.

“No, Richard. It wasn’t all bad.”

And then you turn away from him forever. Leaving him all alone to await Death.

**********************************************************************************

You gently sit Johnny down on the ground as you sit down on a bench. The city park is only two blocks from your apartment and not very much to look at. A couple of swing sets, a slide and a set of monkey bars. A big open field on the other side of the playground for ball games or free frolicking children. But Johnny always loves watching the other children and you had to get out of the apartment.

You try not to think about Richard wheezing his last breathe as you observe Johnny quietly playing with the few toys you brought for him. But by a cruel twist of fate, Johnny looks just like your soon to be late husband. But you will make sure he will turn out nothing like his father. 

Johnny will be better than Richard. Far better than you.

Your thoughts are interrupted when a flustered mother sits beside you on the bench, wrestling with her own toddler. Her light blonde hair lays free and unfixed on her shoulders, her cheeks are flushed with exertion ,and you can make out a subtle roundness to her belly.

“My goodness Alice, calm down. Let Mama sit down before you try to jump out of my arms.”

The tiny girl continues squirming and flailing her limbs on her mother’s lap. “Down! Down!”

The woman turns to you with an exasperated sigh as she puts her daughter down on the ground next to Johnny. She then turns to you with a wide friendly grin as she fans herself.

“Whew, it’s as hot as the dickens out here!” 

She holds her hand out and you can’t but notice the Southern twang in her voice. Hesitantly, you reach out and shake her hand.

“Hi there. I’m Lorraine and this little spitfire here, is Alice.”

You introduce yourself and gesture to Johnny whose shyly playing with the many pink ruffles on Alice’s dress.

“This is my son, Johnny.” You state. You didn’t feel much like socializing but it would be a welcome distraction at least. Lorraine leans over, peering down at Johnny.

“Well isn’t he just the cutest little thing. So well behaved too! Unlike mine.” She gushes, pointing to Alice, whose already digging her fingers deep into the dirt. Johnny watches her with pure fascination.

“Thank you. You’re daughter is very cute too,” You say truthfully. Alice and Johnny had to be close in age yet she is the mirror opposite. Talkative, outgoing, with long straight blonde hair and an impish smile. You assume she gets that from her mother.

For the next several minutes, the pair of you exchange pleasantries. You make sure to keep things purposefully vague on your side, but manage to keep her talking. Not that that was very difficult. Lorraine, it seems, could talk your ear off.

“Have you lived here long?” You ask, genuinely curious. She lets out a pleasant laugh as though you just told an amusing joke.

“Not at all. Moved here about two months ago all the way from Charlotte. My husband got a promotion and we had to relocate. Drove all the way here just for the car to up and quit on us. But, I suppose that’s what we get for driving an old Napier. And Norman, bless his heart, has to take the trolley to work. Can you imagine? But until we can afford a new one, we have to make due.”

You nod, watching Alice pulling Johnny’s hands into the dirt next to hers. Looks like he’ll need another bath tonight, you muse silently.

Lorraine adjusts her skirt before leaning in slightly. “Well hey, forgive me if I seem too forward, but I would just love to get together again. Truth be told, I haven’t had much luck makin’ friends here. And hey, even our kids get along! Why don’t you give me your number and I’ll give ya a dil-ya-ble whenever we’re free?”

You pause and bite your lip, initially unsure how to respond. Lorraine seems perfectly lovely, but you don’t know if you need yet another person in your life right now. Your eyes drift over her wide doe eyes and down to her growing belly and relent.

You return her smile. “Sure. That’d be keen.”

The pair of you trade numbers and you stand to grab Johnny who toddled a few feet away with Alice. His toys lay forgotten by the bench. You bend down to pick him up when something catches your eye. A familiar face that makes your blood run cold. 

Blonde hair. Steely blue eyes. It’s only for a split second, but you know you saw him. He is standing by the sidewalk outside of the park, with his hands tucked into his suit jacket. His mouth tilted in a troublesome smirk. His eyes focused on you.

What was he doing here of all places?

“Steve?” you mutter quietly, your heart skipping a beat as you hug Johnny closer to you.

“Mm? You say something honey?” Lorraine questions, kneeling down to knock the dirt off of Alice’s dress.

You turn to look back where Steve was standing but he was gone. Melted into the passing crowd as though he were never there.

Is it a coincidence? Did they have business nearby? Or was he sent to watch you?

Whatever the reason, you didn’t want to linger and find out. You quickly gather all of Johnny’s toys and bid a quick goodbye to Lorraine.

“O-okay honey, I’ll be seeing you soon right?” There’s a subtle edge of desperate hope in her voice.

“Yes. Yes absolutely. I’ll give you a ring soon,” you assure with a strained smile. Maybe one day you would call her. But not anytime soon. 

Without another word, you spin and practically run back to the apartment with a wriggling Johnny in your arms. Checking behind you every few steps to make sure you’re not followed.

*****************************************************************************************

When you walk back into the apartment, there is an unearthly stillness. The air feels thicker and there is a heavy silence. You quickly lay Johnny down in his crib with a bottle to help him nap before turning towards Richard’s door.

You had to see. You had to know.

You take a few shaky steps towards the door. A subtle tingling sensation travels down your limbs and you can hear your pounding heartbeat in your ears. You raise your hand to hesitantly knock on Richard’s door. There was nothing but silence. Your stomach drops and your fingers wrap around the doorknob tightly.

Maybe he’s sleeping. But maybe he’s not.

Slowly you open the door and step in, freezing in the door frame. Even in the dim lamp light, you can make out the glassy unfocused look of his eyes. His plate knocked carelessly on the floor with cold half eaten toast on the rug. Glass empty and laying on it’s side. His mouth is open and you can see a thin trickle of drool trailing down the corner. He’s still. Very very still.

Gathering your wits, you move to stand at his bedside. Looking down at him like he’s done for too many years. Was this how he felt? This raw power of putting someone in their supposed place?

You reach down and touch him, quickly retracting when you feel his cold dead flesh.

For a moment, you just stand there silently. Observing every feature. Committing it to memory. Before you even realize what you’re doing, you raise your hand and it strikes Richard across the face. His head snaps to the side. You want to strike him again. Over and over again until his flesh is marred just as yours once was. But you force yourself to back away, hands twitching at your sides. You need to calm down. You turn and leave the room, closing the door swiftly behind you.

In his crib, Johnny reaches up to you with dirty hands. His curls unkempt and mashed against the side of his head. You smile and pick him up lightly bouncing him on your hip like you know he likes. He gives you a sleepy smile and you move to the rocking chair in the corner. Johnny curls up into you and you cradle him to your chest. You start singing an old tune that your mother used to sing to you. You hadn’t heard it in many years yet the words return to you effortlessly.

Hush-a-bye, don’t you cry,

Go to sleepy little baby.

When you wake, you’ll have cake,

And all the pretty little horses.

Black and bay, dapple and grey,

Coach and six little horses,

Hush-a-bye, don’t you cry

Go to sleepy little baby.

When you wake, you’ll have cake,

And all the pretty little horses.

Way down yonder, down in the meadow,

There's a poor wee little lamby.

The bees and the butterflies pickin' at its eyes,

The poor wee thing cried for her mammy.

Hush-a-bye, don't you cry,

Go to sleepy little baby.

When you wake, you'll have cake,

And all the pretty little horses.

Johnny sags against you and you know he’s fast asleep. You carefully lay him back down in his crib, tucking his arm around his rabbit. Closing the door behind you, you walk back to the kitchen and eye the telephone. You had a few phone calls to make. You take a deep breath and pick up the receiver.

******************************************************************************************

About thirty minutes later, you let Mabel into your apartment. The doctor is due within the hour to confirm Richard’s condition and deliver the death certificate, but you needed Mabel’s support more than anything.

She wastes no time, pulling you into a tight hug and petting your hair soothingly.

“It’s going to be alright,” she croons in your ear. You sink into her loving embrace. “Thank you. That means so much.”

Suddenly, she pulls away and looks back at the closed door warily. Before you could question her, she moves purposefully into your kitchen without a word.

“Where is it?” Mabel asks, beginning to carefully look through your cabinets. You raise your brow. “Where’s what, Mabel?”

She pauses and looks at you. Her face uncharacteristically serious. “The arsenic you borrowed from me months ago. We need to get it out of your apartment, less they suspect something.”

You feel your blood pounding at your temples and you cross your arms nervously. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Mabel gives you a sad smile. “Dear, I’ve been in your apartment enough times to know you don’t have any rats. Well...not anymore.”

You shake your head and it feels as though ice flows through your veins. “Mabel, what are you saying?”

Mabel stands there for a moment and the silence is tense and suffocating. Then she shakes her head and places a hand on a nearby wall.

“These are nice apartments. Decent prices, it’s near the grocery store and the park is right down the street for the little ones. But the downside is the walls are very thin.” She gives you a knowing, melancholy smile. “You don’t have to pretend anymore. I heard...how he really was.”

Your heart seizes as you choke out a sob. You feel your knees threaten to buckle under you as you lean against the counter top. Mabel takes careful steps towards you, her eyes glistening with fresh tears.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry I couldn’t help you then. Please...let me help you now.” Mabel says softly with her hand outstretched. You feel the tears slide down your cheeks as your hand slips into your apron pocket and you hand over the small clear bottle to her. She lets you collapse into her arms as you both cry huddled on your kitchen floor.

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[rainydayhogwartsimagines]

Hi could you write to Draco?  The Malfoys signed a marriage contract with another thoroughbred family, time passed and the girl who would marry Draco was selected for the hufflepuff so she thought the contract would be canceled, but when the war was over Lucius thought it would be a good idea to do  Draco marries someone other than Slytherin to clean up the family image a bit, of course keeping the tradition purebred.I could have anguish I like, but the ending is very happy?  Please!

I’ve got you homie! 

Warnings: Self harm, swearing, slight NSFW stuff.

The battle of Hogwarts haunted everyone’s memory. It was slightly infuriating to be a muggleborn child in that time because it was impossible to come home and tell family what happened. Wizards would deal with their demons in the invisible walls of the world only you all knew. You could only imagine what wizards who were forced to abandoned their families unwillingly. Hermione only talked to you about that pain. How she had to remove herself from the memories of her own parents. You got lucky. You were a pureblooded wizard, your parents being ones of a high income family. Your parents loved you, they fought with you during that battle. They didn’t hesitate to run to their bleeding daughter when you took a hit for Fred Weasley, ultimately saving the boy’s life. They didn’t hesitate to stay by your side when you recovered due to Fawkes taking a liking to you. They didn’t hesitate to protect you when you ran back out into battle. You understood they loved you. 

What you never understood though was the arranged marriage. When you were eleven, you were set to be in a arranged marriage to Draco Malfoy. He was nothing but an ass to you though, part of you questioned whether or not he even knew about the arrangement. Well he did. And quite often threw it back at you when you were in his presence. When describing this boy, you wouldn’t exactly use the word “hate”. No you didn’t hate him. You had a STRONG disliking to the boy. He often was rude over your house, saying you must’ve been weak to be put in Hufflepuff. You swore one day you’d prove him wrong and actually did when the battle of Hogwarts came. You saved his life, pulling him back and shouting a defense charm telling him to be more careful before running off. Draco was surprised to see you fight for him in such a way. He nearly expected you to leave him for dead but you didn’t. So he stealthily watched you through out the battle, allowing you to narrowly escape death a few times. When you did nearly die he was actually present. You weren’t aware of him being in the makeshift medical unit, watching you silently. Your parents were very aware though. They recognized his presence and the fact that he had been anonymously keeping you alive throughout the entire battle. When sides had to be chosen it was gut wrenching to look at you. You were good friends with Harry and his ragtag group of friends. When you saw Harry dead in Hagrid’s arms you just fell to your knees staring at the boy with shock and tears. Hermione and Ron both were by your side as your eyes just locked onto him. Voldemort seemed to take great joy in seeing you in pain. Draco’s parents were visible, standing with the dark lord with great pride as to say “We won and you can’t fight us anymore”. Lucius extended a hand to Draco but you stopped him, grabbing his hand with this pained expression. “Don’t go.” You whispered. Draco looked at you and then his father. Would he really stay for someone who he seemingly hated? Would he stay because you asked him to? The answer seemed to be obvious. But it surprised everyone when he stepped back into his place with Hogwarts

It seemed you two buried the hatchet after the battle was over, especially when Harry turned out to be alive and Draco grabbed his wand from his father, giving it to Harry. It was the only time you heard Draco say “Potter!” With no disgust in his voice. You were the one that kept him safe though. You grabbed Draco’s hand and ran to the order. “We need to move.” Remus said. “Where, the battle is literally going on everywhere!?” Fred asked. “We need to not be stopping, that’s for sure, I’ve already almost died once here, I don’t plan on doing it again!” You said. You all ran to the second floor, finding a vacant hall so you could finally rest. “I am too old for this!” George whined. “You’re joking right? Tonks, tell me the boy is joking.” Remus said making you let out a breathy laugh. Draco had this confused look on his face. “Why did you help me?” Draco asked. “I--” You were cut off by the crackling noise of Harry’s magic against Voldemort. Your eyes couldn’t even handle looking at it, it was so bright. But then almost as quickly as the battle picked up... It stopped. You were terrified that Harry might’ve lost but when you could finally see you saw Harry still standing. “He did it!” You gasped. Tonks looked out the window and let out a relieved sigh. “It’s over.” You said. “Draco its-- Draco?” You noticed his absence and that was the last you saw of him

Until today. You opened the door to your parents’ home and there he was, that same stern expression he usually kept plastered on his face. “Draco?” Your father asked. Draco let out a long sigh and you rose a brow. “The contract was never terminated.” Draco said. Contract? What was he-- WAIT WHAT!? “I see.” Your father said. “My father cannot terminate it because of his... situation so it appears we’re stuck in this.” Draco said to you. “...Shit.” you muttered. Your father didn’t even bother to scold you for that one. “Well... Welcome to your new home for the time being I suppose.” Your father said. “Thank you sir.” Draco said, blank expression as he stepped in. “May I speak with you? Alone?” You asked him. “If you must.” Draco said. You dragged him into the empty dining room. “Are you alright?” You asked. “Excuse me?” Draco asked. “You disappeared after the battle and I got worried something had happened... Fred tried writing to you.” You said. “I see... You’re concerned with me? Genuinely?” Draco asked. “Yes!” You said. “Why?” He asked. “Because... Someone has to be.” You said. “What?” He asked. “You deserve to have someone care about you.” You said point blank. “Plus you apparently saved my life. Multiple times.” you added. Draco blushed slightly, putting a hand on the back of his neck and looking away. “So you did?” You asked. “I... May have kept you alive longer?” he said. “Why didn’t you say anything?” You asked. “Because I didn’t want you acting strange about it!” He said aggravated. You couldn’t help but smile. “You don’t hate me do you?” You asked. “I never said I did!” Draco said. Your smile grew bigger “This is exactly why I didn’t say anything!” Draco groaned making you laugh. He liked hearing that laugh... Something about it was so... Pleasant. “So do you actually want to get married or are you sticking with ‘it’s my duty, nothing more’?” you asked. “I mean no offense, but why would I want to actually get married to you?” Draco said. “Offense definitely taken.” you nodded. “Look, you can understand how I am not exactly thrilled to be bound to marry a girl I barely know by a fucking contract.” He griped. “It’s no cakewalk for me either asshat.” You said, roughing up his hair. He frowned and swatted your hand away. “But you’re right. We barely know each other. so we should start getting friendly now.” You said, pulling a seat out at the table. “Christ don’t--” “Sit.” You said sternly as your father walked through. “Little tip for your marriage, son: The women actually run the household.” He said before leaving. Draco sighed and sat down, you sitting across from him. “Sooo. Where did you go after the battle?” You asked. “...I really don’t want to answer that.” He muttered. “Can you at least tell me that you’re okay?” you said, showing legitimate concern, taking one of his hands into yours. He looked into your e/c eyes and swallowed. “Yes... Y/n I’m fine.” He nodded. “Okay... So Harry might be coming in five minutes.” You said. “What!?” Draco asked. “Hey, we didn’t realize you’d be here today! They’ve been coming over for dinner since the war.” You said. “Oh Christ, all of them are coming!?” Draco asked. “Yes and they’ve been worried about you too!” You said as he stood up. He turned back around. “Why?” He asked. “Because you were a leading cause of winning the war dumbass, your name is everywhere.” you said. Draco sighed. “Plus your parents--” “Don’t.” Draco muttered. You nodded. “Sorry... But Molly feels responsible for all children... She cares about you and she doesn’t want you to feel alone. And neither do I.” You said. He ran a hand over his face and the front door opened, a house elf walking into the dining room. “The Weasley family.” She said. “Thank you Francis.” you said, the house elf nodding and leaving. Molly walked in and halted. “Draco showed up earlier and--” Molly hugged Draco making him freeze before slowly looking to you. “hug back” you mouthed. Draco slowly hugged her back and she pulled away. 

“We’ve been so worried about you dear!” Molly said. Fred walked in and he hugged Draco on sight. “Told you they were worried.” You said. “Was there any doubt that we weren’t!?” Fred asked. “I’m not exactly liked Fred, please let go.” Draco said. He did and George hugged him afterwards making Draco groan. Tonks, Ron, Hermione, Remus, Harry and Teddy all joined you soon after. You soon all sat down for dinner, Draco being silent for most of it. “So you’re safe. What made you leave?” Fred asked. “I was checking on my...” He swallowed and shook his head. “I was checking on my family... Before they...” he muttered. Remus nodded. “We’re grateful you’re safe son.” Remus said as you wiped Teddy’s mouth. Draco noticed you with him, keeping him on your knee while you ate. “He almost said your name the other day.” Tonks said to you. You smiled. “Did you now?” you asked Teddy rhetorically, hugging him. He let out a giggle and Harry smiled. “He clearly favors you.” Harry said. “Hmm, you give me a run for money though.” You chuckled. Remus smiled. The house elf from earlier emerged. “Yes Francis dear?” Your mother asked. “A package for Miss Y/n has arrived.” the house elf said. “Oh.” You got up, passing Teddy to Draco. “Y/n I don’t--” “Harry, help the poor guy.” You said as Draco seemed to struggle with Teddy. You walked out and Draco sat Teddy on his knee, mimicking the same way he saw him with you. “See you’ve got it.” Harry nodded. “I have no idea what I’m doing.” He admitted. “Oh, you’re doing just fine son.” Remus assured as you walked in. “What was the package?” your father asked. “A new set of stationary.” You replied sitting down. Teddy made grabby hands and cooed as if to ask to be back with you. You took Teddy and smiled, kissing his cheek. “You’re so becoming our babysitter. He never stays this calm.” Tonks chuckled. “Y/n has always had a way with children.” Your mother said. “She gets that from you.” Your father told her. “I don’t know.. Teddy do I have a way with children?” You asked with a smile. Teddy giggled and grabbed your finger making you chuckle. Draco smiled at the sight and Fred noticed. “So what exactly brought you here?” George asked. “Uh... I’ve been in a arranged marriage with Y/n since the first year of school.” Draco admitted. “Wait what!?” Hermione gaped. “Since father is in... Azkaban no one can revoke the marriage so... We’re both stuck with this.” Draco said. “Yikes.” Tonks winced. “When is the wedding?” you asked. “Looking forward to the marriage or something?” Fred teased. “I just figure there’s no loophole or anything. We may as well just accept what’s happening. Glass half full approach.” You shrugged. “Y/n, your Hufflepuff is showing.” Tonks coughed out making Remus smile. You chuckled and Draco sighed. “I understand where your coming from. I suppose she’s right.” Draco nodded. “Did you just... Agree with her?” Harry asked. “And?” Draco asked. “You two argue over almost everything.” Ron pointed out. “We do not.” Draco sighed. “We spent three hours in an argument over potions before.” you reminded. “.... I’m just trying something new.” Draco admitted. “...Being more agreeable?” Ginny asked. “Being nicer... From what I understand I’ve... Been kind of a pain.” Draco said. “Kind of?” George asked, Fred kicking him from under the table as a response. “I’m trying to make up for what I’ve done.” Draco admitted. You smiled.

The rest of the night was mostly spent with the family. But Draco stayed up once everyone went to bed, sitting in the library by the fire. Well... Almost everyone. “Couldn’t sleep?” You asked, making him turn. “No.” He said, turning back to the fireplace. He seemed to be thinking about something as you sat down. “Something wrong?” You asked. Draco swallowed. “I went looking for the ministry...” Draco admitted. “Hmm?” You asked. “Why you never saw me... I went looking for the ministry.” Draco said. “...Any reason why?” You asked. “To find my parents... If I was going down they were going down with me.” Draco said. “Wait, why would--” “Because I had a dark mark. I chose to bare this. I chose this.” Draco said, clearly saying it to himself rather than you. He started scratching at his wrist and you stopped him, hugging him close. “You don’t have to bare these demons alone Draco.” you said in his ear. He clung to you as if you were the most precious thing to him, sobbing into your shoulder. “I’m sorry.” Was the only thing he could seem to get out. When he finally calmed down you left, coming back with hot cocoa. “Here... I’ve learned from Remus that chocolate fixes everything.” You said. He let out a small chuckle and took the mug. “You’re always so kind... I honestly feel like shit when I think of how I’ve treated you in the past.” Draco said. “Can I admit something crazy to you?” You asked. He nodded. “I had a massive crush on you in third year. to like our sixth year.” You admitted, making the boy nearly choke on his drink. “...That is crazy.” Draco said. “I know.” you chuckled. “I had a crush on you in our second year.” He said. You rose a brow. “You treated me like shit our second year.” You laughed. “I did not handle those feelings well, as you can see.” he said making you laugh. “What, pray tell brought on those feelings?” You asked. “Quidditch.” He admitted. “What?” You asked. “There was a quidditch game where it was Slytherin vs Hufflepuff and you ended up nearly falling off your broom for the snitch. I watched you leap off your broom, fall and then get right back up, covered in grass and dirt. And apparently twelve year old me thought that you were amazing.” Draco chuckled. You smiled and seemed to hide in your hair to cover the blush forming on your face. Draco however brushed back your strands and smiled looking at you. “Your eyes are very bright...” he commented, his voice low and soft. Your lips parted, looking at him. “When did you stop?” You asked softly. “hmm?” He asked. “When did you stop liking me?” You asked. His breath hitched. “I never did.” He admitted. You looked at him surprised, blinking a few times. “Sorry... I-I didn’t mean to--” “N-no it’s fine, it’s just I.. I didn’t expect to hear that.” You said. “Why?” He asked. “I always assumed you disliked me so I dropped it.” You admitted. 

Draco sucked in a breath and chuckled. “So Potter actually kept it a secret.” He said. “Kept what a secret?” You asked. “The Amortentia lesson. You were sick with a cold and you couldn’t come to class.” Draco began. “I had to work with Pansy Parkinson and we were making the potion... I didn’t realize what the scent of the potion was until I made a comment.... ‘Jesus Y/n did you bathe in your perfume this morning, this place stinks of it’.” Draco recalled. “Amortentia smells like--” “Whoever you have feelings for... Which is you. And Potter was there and I practically begged the guy not to tell you... I’m surprised he kept it to himself.” Draco admitted. “Course I was the dolt that decided to say that bit out loud--” you cut him off with a kiss, him cupping you cheeks as he realized what was happening. You pulled away from air and he smiled. “What brought that on?” He asked. “You became bearable.” you chuckled. Draco kissed you again, you pulling away before getting up and straddling his lap. He kissed you passionately, running his fingers through your hair.  “I feel like we shouldn’t do this here.” You breathed. “If you don’t want to I understand.” He breathed. “My god you are the perfect man.” You whispered, making him chuckle. He kissed your nose and you smiled. “Suddenly this arranged marriage thing isn’t so bad.” He said. You curled up in his arms and he chuckled. “Tired?” He asked. “I can only take so much human interaction... Wait till Arthur isn’t working a nightshift... He will not stop talking. Love the man to death, honest... But if he asks Harry for the function of a cellphone I’m going to impale myself on a fucking fork.” You whined. Draco looked over at your chair and saw a blanket. “Accio Blanket.” He said before he pulled it over you. “We don’t have to actually--” “I’m comfortable, it appears your comfortable... Why not sleep here?” He asked. “... Wanna get married?” You teased making him kiss your head. It didn’t take long for you to fall asleep.

Your parents found you two the next morning, you curled up in his lap his arms holding you close. “Ahem... Dear?” Your mother called. You sucked in a breath, leaning up and blinking a few times. Draco shifted and turned around. “Mr. and Mrs. L/n!” Draco said getting up and you hitting the floor. “Oh my god Y/n are you okay!?” Draco asked, helping you up. “We fell asleep.” You said to your parents. They started laughing and you both rose a brow. “You’re both adults. And engaged. We just wanted to know why you weren’t at breakfast this morning and it seems we have an answer.” Your father said. “Aha... righhhtttt.” You nodded, blushing a bit. You two sat at the breakfast table and your parents went off to work. “So...” You cleared your throat. “Hmm?” Draco asked, sipping on a coffee. “Last night was fun.” You said, making him almost cough it up. You chuckled and handed him a napkin. He chuckled and sighed. “I suppose it was.” He agreed. You smiled and Francis brought you the paper, you reading one half while Draco read the other. Your hand rested on the table as you read and you felt Draco grip it and you smiled. “Your hand feels nice.” You said. “Mmm, does it?” He chuckled. “Surprisingly soft... Okay, you’ve got to tell me what moisturizer you use--” Draco began laughing silently as you spoke. “Oh God.” You said after a while of rambling. “What?” Draco asked, clearing his throat. You showed him the article. “Battle Hero Draco Malfoy is engaged to Y/n L/n. An article by... Rita Skeeter.” He read aloud. “How the hell am I considered a battle hero!? You saved more lives than I did!” He gaped. “Probably that wand incident that landed you the title.” You shrugged. “I don’t want it.” He grumbled. “Besides she’s completely writing you off. You nearly died for Fred, you saved Remus and Nymphadora, you literally a war hero but she’s--” “Draco, you’re squeezing my hand too tight.” you winced. He eased up and kissed your knuckles almost as an apology. You chuckled. “Draco, this is Rita Skeeter. All of her stuff is bullshit.” You snorted. “True. I still remember that ridiculous article she wrote on Potter.” Draco nodded. You snorted “ ‘eyes glistening with the ghosts of his past.’” You recalled. “God it was so terrible.” He laughed. You smiled. “You have a nice laugh.” You pointed out. He smiled. “So is this our new thing? We’re... together?” you asked. “Well considering the marriage... We were technically already together. But yes, I presume this does mean we’re... Friendlier?” He said making you snort. “If a make out session with you is friendly, what happens if I sleep with you?” You teased. He chuckled and leaned to your ear. “Wonderful things.” He said making you nearly knock over your cup of coffee. He chuckled and you grumbled in your seat, annoyed he could make you flustered. “You pout like a child.” He said. “Fuck off.” You griped making him chuckle and shake his head. 

You and Draco spent most of the day actually wedding planning. Your parents came home to a heated argument. “Are you blind!? You have to be to think that is a good color scheme!” Draco said. What the hell was he talking about? “We are not making it green and black Draco that is depressing for a wedding!” You said. “Alright, compromise. Silver and Yellow.” He suggested. “Yellow? Ehhhhh” “Oh come on!” He sighed. “Blue!” You said. “Blue?” “Blue! Blue and silver are pretty.” You said. “...Blue and silver actually sound nice.” He nodded. “What are you two doing?” Your mother asked. “Wedding planning.” “Roses?” Draco asked. “Are you out of your mind? With blue and silver?” You asked. “True. Lilies?” “Not bad.” You nodded. Your parents nodded, watching you two bounce ideas off of each other. Draco smiled and pulled you into his lap, kissing your cheek as you wrote. “Then there’s the cake.” You said. “hmmm. Chocolate?” He suggested. “Somewhere Remus just screamed. Absolutely.” You nodded. Your parents smiled. 

Maybe this whole thing wasn’t so bad after all.

[butterflies-dragons]

Hi. You said in your Jon and women meta that Lyanna is a combination of both Sansa and Arya. Can you give her parallels with both girls?

Hello Anon,

Yes this past week I’ve said that Lyanna Stark was a mixture of the Stark Sisters. 

I also said that I always thought that the Sansa from the original outline was very similar to Lyanna Stark:  

Now ¿How marrying the heir of the Iron Throne/King of the 7K is supposed to be an act of dubious loyalty?  Because GRRM has stated that in high nobility there is no marriage without the Lord Father of the bride’s blessing.  Furthermore, from the wedding the bride belongs to her husband’s house, that’s all the fuzz with the cloaking ceremony, going from the maiden’s cloak to your husband’s cloak.  You left your paternal house to belong with your husbands house.  Sansa’s loyalty was with her husband, and more important, Sansa’s love and loyalty was with her baby boy.  So, how choosing his baby over her paternal house could be seem as an act of dubious loyalty then?  And even if she wanted to come back to her paternal family, does she really get a chance without the risk of being captured, separated from her baby, accused of treason and executed, leaving her baby boy motherless?      

Oh I get it, there was an enmity between Starks and Lannisters.  So, Or Joffrey abducted Sansa? Or Sansa eloped to marry Joffrey?  How very Shakespearean of you George!  This is Romeo and Juliet all over again.    Or even better, this is Rhaegar Targaryen and Lyanna Stark oll over again.  

Original Outline Sansa was Queen of the Seven Kingdoms and mother of the heir to the Iron Throne.

It is implied by the fandom that this Sansa dies because the outline says that Jaime dethrones and kills Joffrey and “everyone ahead of him in the line of succession” (Sansa’s baby).  Well, Sansa was not in the line of succession, but it’s probable that Jaime had to kill her to get to her baby boy, which reminds me of Elia Martell & her babies’ tragic and devastating deaths.

And landing more on the subject, I said that: Arya and Sansa play different roles in Jon’s life: Sansa is the distant half sister, the archetype of  the princess in the tower, that he thinks he would never get.  While Arya is the closest sister, the comfortable presence of a girl with less feminine inclinations.  And both of them resemblance different aspects of Lyanna Stark.  While Arya got Lyanna’s spirit and physical features, Sansa Stark got the less known romantic nature of Lyanna, after all, Lyanna cried while listening Rhaegar playing the harp, eloped with him, bore him a son, found herself trapped in a tower, and unwillingly caused the death of her father and older brother.  Like a Lady in a sad and beautiful song.     

We can draw parallels between Lyanna and her two nieces, but there are also parallels shared by the three of these She-wolves of Winterfell.  Let’s see: 

LYANNA & ARYA

Appearance: 

“You remind me of her sometimes. You even look like her." "Lyanna was beautiful," Arya said, startled. Everybody said so. It was not a thing that was ever said of Arya. "She was," Eddard Stark agreed, "beautiful, and willful, and dead before her time." —AGOT - Arya II

Carrying a sword:

"Lyanna might have carried a sword, if my lord father had allowed it. You remind me of her sometimes. —AGOT - Arya II

The wolf-blood:

“Arya, you have a wildness in you, child. The wolf blood, my father would call it. Lyanna had a touch of it."—AGOT - Arya II

"She was," Eddard Stark agreed, "beautiful, and willful, and dead before her time." —AGOT - Arya II

This willfulness of yours, the running off, the angry words, the disobedience … at home, these were only the summer games of a child. Here and now, with winter soon upon us, that is a different matter. It is time to begin growing up." —AGOT - Arya II

Punching annoying brothers & friends: 

Now two children danced across the godswood, hooting at one another as they dueled with broken branches. The girl was the older and taller of the two. Arya! Bran thought eagerly, as he watched her leap up onto a rock and cut at the boy. But that couldn't be right. If the girl was Arya, the boy was Bran himself, and he had never worn his hair so long. And Arya never beat me playing swords, the way that girl is beating him. She slashed the boy across his thigh, so hard that his leg went out from under him and he fell into the pool and began to splash and shout. "You be quiet, stupid," the girl said, tossing her own branch aside. "It's just water. Do you want Old Nan to hear and run tell Father?" She knelt and pulled her brother from the pool, but before she got him out again, the two of them were gone. — ADWD - Bran III

When the spirit stepped out of the open tomb, pale white and moaning for blood, Sansa ran shrieking for the stairs, and Bran wrapped himself around Robb's leg, sobbing. Arya stood her ground and gave the spirit a punch. It was only Jon, covered with flour. "You stupid," she told him, "you scared the baby," but Jon and Robb just laughed and laughed, and pretty soon Bran and Arya were laughing too. —AGOT - Arya IV

The dragon prince sang a song so sad it made the wolf maid sniffle, but when her pup brother teased her for crying she poured wine over his head. —ASOS - Bran II

"My lady?" Ned looked embarrassed. "I'm Edric Dayne, the . . . the Lord of Starfall." Behind them, Gendry groaned. "Lords and ladies," he proclaimed in a disgusted tone. Arya plucked a withered crabapple off a passing branch and whipped it at him, bouncing it off his thick bull head. "Ow," he said. "That hurt." He felt the skin above his eye. "What kind of lady throws crabapples at people?" "The bad kind," said Arya, suddenly contrite. She turned back to Ned. "I'm sorry I didn't know who you were. My lord." —ASOS - Arya VIII

Half-horses:

"You ride like a northman, milady," Harwin said when he'd drawn them to a halt. "Your aunt was the same. Lady Lyanna. But my father was master of horse, remember." —ASOS - Arya III

Horses … the boy was mad for horses, Lady Dustin will tell you. Not even Lord Rickard's daughter could outrace him, and that one was half a horse herself. —ADWD - Reek III

"Brandon was fostered at Barrowton with old Lord Dustin, the father of the one I'd later wed, but he spent most of his time riding the Rills. He loved to ride. His little sister took after him in that. A pair of centaurs, those two. —ADWD - The Turncloak

This is a contrast with Sansa: "I hate riding," Sansa said fervently. "All it does is get you soiled and dusty and sore." —AGOT - Sansa I

LYANNA & SANSA

Beauty:

Both Lyanna and Sansa are considered beautiful:

Lyanna:

"She [Lyanna] was," Eddard Stark agreed, "beautiful, and willful, and dead before her time." —AGOT - Arya II

Lyanna had only been sixteen, a child-woman of surpassing loveliness. Ned had loved her with all his heart. Robert had loved her even more. She was to have been his bride. —AGOT - Eddard I

"The maid's a fair one," Osha said. —AGOT - Bran VII

The northern girl had a wild beauty, as he recalled. —ADWD - Epilogue

Sansa:

Sansa’s needlework was exquisite. Everyone said so. “Sansa’s work is as pretty as she is.”

Sansa had the grace to blush. She blushed prettily. She did everything prettily.

Worse, she was beautiful. Sansa had gotten their mother’s fine high cheekbones and the thick auburn hair of the Tullys.

“I saw Sansa at the court, the day Tyrion told me his terms. She looked most beautiful, my lady. Perhaps a, a bit wan. Drawn, as it were.”

Men would say she had my look, but she will grow into a woman far more beautiful than I ever was.

“You are very beautiful, my lady,” the seamstress said when she was dressed.

Ser Kevan told her she was beautiful, Jalabhar Xho said something she did not understand in the Summer Tongue, and Lord Redwyne wished her many fat children and long years of joy.

"Ser Ossifer speaks truly, you are the most beautiful maid in all the Seven Kingdoms.”

“Had we known such beauty awaited us at the Gates, we would have flown,” Ser Roland said. Though his words were addressed to Myranda Royce, he smiled at Alayne as he said them.

Inner Strength:  

"You never knew Lyanna as I did, Robert," Ned told him. "You saw her beauty, but not the iron underneath”. —AGOT - Eddard VII 

My skin has turned to porcelain, to ivory, to steel. —ASOS - Sansa V

Pleading Ned to protect part of themselves:

He could still hear Sansa pleading, as Lyanna had pleaded once. —AGOT - Eddard IV

Lyanna was pleading to her brother Ned to protect her son, while Sansa was pleading to her father Ned to protect her direwolf, Lady, part of Sansa’s soul.  Later, Ned regretted failing Sansa...  

Knights & Queens of Love and Beauty:

Lyanna was a Mystery Knight AND was crowned Queen of Love and Beauty at the Tourney of Harrenhal.

Lyanna as the Knight of the Laughing Tree: 

But late on the afternoon of that second day, as the shadows grew long, a mystery knight appeared in the lists. Bran nodded sagely. [...] “It was the little crannogman, I bet.” “No one knew,” said Meera, “but the mystery knight was short of stature, and clad in ill-fitting armor made up of bits and pieces. The device upon his shield was a heart tree of the old gods, a white weirwood with a laughing red face.” [...] “Whoever he was, the old gods gave strength to his arm. The porcupine knight fell first, then the pitchfork knight, and lastly the knight of the two towers. None were well loved, so the common folk cheered lustily for the Knight of the Laughing Tree, as the new champion soon was called.” —ASOS - Bran II

Lyanna as the Queen of love and beauty. Rhaegar wearing rubies (red) gave her a crown of winter roses (blue):

The Targaryen prince armored all in black. On his breastplate was the three-headed dragon of his House, wrought all in rubies that flashed like fire in the sunlight. —AGOT - Eddard I

Ned remembered the moment when all the smiles died, when Prince Rhaegar Targaryen urged his horse past his own wife, the Dornish princess Elia Martell, to lay the queen of beauty's laurel in Lyanna's lap. He could see it still: a crown of winter roses, blue as frost. —AGOT - Eddard XV

Sansa attended the Tourney of the Hand at Kings Landing, met Petyr Baelish who told her that Catelyn was his Queen of Love and Beauty, and received a (red) rose from Ser Loras Tyrell, the Knight of Flowers, who was wearing an armor adorned with sapphires (blue).  During the second day of the tourney, Sansa wore the red rose in her hair:

"Your mother was my queen of beauty once," the man said quietly. His breath smelled of mint. "You have her hair." His fingers brushed against her cheek as he stroked one auburn lock. Quite abruptly he turned and walked away. —AGOT - Sansa II

When the Knight of Flowers made his entrance, a murmur ran through the crowd, and he heard Sansa's fervent whisper, "Oh, he's so beautiful." Ser Loras Tyrell was slender as a reed, dressed in a suit of fabulous silver armor polished to a blinding sheen and filigreed with twining black vines and tiny blue forget-me-nots. The commons realized in the same instant as Ned that the blue of the flowers came from sapphires; a gasp went up from a thousand throats. Across the boy's shoulders his cloak hung heavy. It was woven of forget-me-nots, real ones, hundreds of fresh blooms sewn to a heavy woolen cape. —AGOT - Eddard VII

Her eyes were only for Ser Loras. When the white horse stopped in front of her, she thought her heart would burst. To the other maidens he had given white roses, but the one he plucked for her was red. "Sweet lady," he said, "no victory is half so beautiful as you." Sansa took the flower timidly, struck dumb by his gallantry. His hair was a mass of lazy brown curls, his eyes like liquid gold. She inhaled the sweet fragrance of the rose and sat clutching it long after Ser Loras had ridden off. —AGOT - Sansa II

The boy from Highgarden did something with his legs, and his horse pranced sideways, nimble as a dancer. Sansa clutched at his arm. "Father, don't let Ser Gregor hurt him," she said. Ned saw she was wearing the rose that Ser Loras had given her yesterday. Jory had told him about that as well. —AGOT - Eddard VII

At this point in the Books, Sansa, as Alayne Stone, is organizing a Tourney to elect the members of Robert Arryn personal guard, named the Brotherhood of the Winged Knights.  As the daughter of Petyr Baelish, Lord Protector of the Vale, Alayne Stone could be crowned as the Queen of Love and Beauty.    

This is a contrast with Arya who thinks tourneys are stupid: "I don't care about their stupid tourney." —AGOT - Arya II

Failed betrothal to a Baratheon: 

Both Lyanna and Sansa were betrothed with a Baratheon, Lyanna with Robert and Sansa with Joffrey:

If Lyanna had lived, we should have been brothers, bound by blood as well as affection. Well, it is not too late. I have a son. You have a daughter. My Joff and your Sansa shall join our houses, as Lyanna and I might once have done. —AGOT - Eddard I

There is also this parallel between Jenny of Oldstones, Lyanna & Sansa [I wrote about it here]:

Note the parallels between Duncan Targaryen, his betrothed Baratheon and Jenny of Oldstones & Rhaegar Targaryen, Lyanna Stark and her betrothed Robert Baratheon: A Targaryen prince breaking an engagement with a member of House Baratheon that then originates a rebellion.

And this: Sansa was betrothed with Joffrey “Baratheon” and the engagement was broken in the middle of a war with Robb Stark leading an army against King Joffrey, and Jon almost breaking his vows to join Robb’s army to avenge Ned’s death and rescue their sisters. All of which makes me think about these parallels: Sansa being a hostage in King’s Landing & Lyanna’s “abduction”, Ned’s death & Rickard’s death, Robb’s death & Brandon’s death. And that leaves Jon to possibly play the role of Ned Stark in the future.  

Basically if Jon and Sansa happens, they will parallel two stories: Rhaegar and Lyanna, a Targaryen/Stark couple; and Ned and Cat, a Stark/Tully couple.

And right now in the Books, Sansa Stark, under the disguise of Alayne Stone, is betrothed with a Robert-like young man: Harry Hardyn. 

The Rose of Winterfell:

This is the tale:

According to free folk legend, Lord Brandon Stark, the liege of the north, once called Bael a coward. To take revenge for this affront and prove his courage, Bael climbed the Wall, took the kingsroad, and entered Winterfell under the guise of a singer named Sygerrik of Skagos. ("Sygerrik" means "deceiver" in the Old Tongue.) There, he sang until midnight for the lord.

Impressed by his skills as a singer, Lord Stark asked Bael what he wanted as a reward, but he requested only the most beautiful flower blooming in Winterfell's gardens. As the blue winter roses were just blooming, Brandon Stark presented him with one. The following morning, the maiden daughter of Lord Stark had disappeared, his only child, and in her bed was the blue winter rose.

Lord Brandon sent the members of the Night's Watch looking for them beyond the Wall, but they never found Bael or the girl. The Stark line was on the verge of extinction, when one day the girl was back in her room, holding in her arms an infant: they had actually never left Winterfell, staying hidden in the crypts. Bael's bastard with Brandon's daughter became the new Lord Stark.

Thirty years later, Bael was King-Beyond-the-Wall and led the wildlings' army south, and he had to fight his own son at the Frozen Ford. There, incapable of killing his own blood, he let himself be killed by Lord Stark. His son brought back Bael's head to Winterfell, and his mother who had loved the bard, seeing the trophy, killed herself by leaping from the top of a tower. The son was eventually slain by the Boltons.

[Source]

Ygritte told this story to Jon in ACOK - Jon VI, and it resembles Jon’s own story: Bael/Rhaegar (both harp players/bards) abducting/eloping Brandon's daughter/Lyanna, ‘the fairest flower that blooms in the gardens o' Winterfell’.  Immediately after this chapter, comes ACOK - Sansa IV, where she flowered for the first time, next chapter is Jon again. (Jon-Sansa-Jon).

Also take note that Sansa was “abducted” by Petyr Baelish, a known deceiver, whose surname has a resemblance with the name Bael.

Ladies of Winterfell

Lyanna’s and Lady’s bones are buried at Winterfell, what makes them literally Ladies of Winterfell:  

"She was more beautiful than that," the king said after a silence. His eyes lingered on Lyanna's face, as if he could will her back to life. Finally he rose, made awkward by his weight. "Ah, damn it, Ned, did you have to bury her in a place like this?" His voice was hoarse with remembered grief. "She deserved more than darkness …" "She was a Stark of Winterfell," Ned said quietly. "This is her place." —AGOT - Eddard I

Shortly, Jory brought him Ice. When it was over, he said, “Choose four men and have them take the body north. Bury her at Winterfell.” “All that way?” Jory said, astonished. “All that way,” Ned affirmed. “The Lannister woman shall never have this skin.” —AGOT - Eddard III

Bran felt all cold inside. "She lost her wolf," he said, weakly, remembering the day when four of his father's guardsmen had returned from the south with Lady's bones. Summer and Grey Wind and Shaggydog had begun to howl before they crossed the drawbridge, in voices drawn and desolate. Beneath the shadow of the First Keep was an ancient lichyard, its headstones spotted with pale lichen, where the old Kings of Winter had laid their faithful servants. It was there they buried Lady, while her brothers stalked between the graves like restless shadows. She had gone south, and only her bones had returned. —AGOT - Bran VI

I wrote about this before:

Now, back to Lady’s death. We know that this event is a turning point in Sansa’s arc, but other than that, the paragraphs leading to the direwolf’s execution are laden with symbolism and foreshadowing, not only for Sansa, but for Ned as well.

During the “trial”, Ned decides that he will take Lady’s life himself, in order to avoid having a butcher like Ilyn Payne do the execution. Then, before he struck, he pronounced her name in the same fashion Robb and Jon called the name of their direwolves before they both died. This for me foreshadows Ned’s own death. Also, before Lady’s death, Ned pleads King Robert to change his decision on putting down the direwolf, appealing to the memory of Lyanna, the woman Robert loved. Similarly, before Ned’s execution at the steps of the Sept of Baelor, Sansa pleads King Joffrey to spare her father’s life, appealing to the love he has for her. As we know, both pleas fell on deaf ears and both Lady and Ned lost their lives; bringing the story full circle, as Ilyn Payne himself cut off Ned’s head.

Another interesting thing is that before Lady’s death we have direct and indirect references to Lyanna Stark. We have the direct reference when Ned appealed to the love Robert Baratheon bore Lyanna, in order to save Lady’s life, and the indirect one when he ordered Jory to choose four men to return Lady’s body to the north, to bury her in Winterfell. This order Ned gave to his men alludes to his own decision to take Lyanna’s body to Winterfell to be buried in the crypts, after her demise, brought on by her doomed love affair with Rhaegar Targaryen. 

Dubious Loyalty?

Both Lyanna and Sansa got infatuated by Golden Princes: Rhaegar Targaryen and Joffrey Baratheon, and because of that they both unintentionally played a part in the deaths of their fathers and older brothers, Rickard and Brandon & Ned and Robb.  They both also ended trapped in towers regretting their doomed romances.

As I mentioned before, I always thought that the Sansa from the original outline was very similar to Lyanna Stark.  That Sansa was described as member of dubious loyalty for her family; but while Lyanna is glorified by the fandom, both  Outline Sansa and Asoiaf Sansa are unfairly vilified for committing the same actions that Lyanna did.     

Also, as it was pointed out before, Rickard Stark and Catelyn Stark both saw their firstborn sons murdered in front of them, while convinced that their daughters were far away being raped and abused by cruel princes, and then were brutally murdered themselves.

Dead before their time:

"She [Lyanna] was," Eddard Stark agreed, "beautiful, and willful, and dead before her time." —AGOT - Arya II

And so many others were missing. Where had the rest of them gone? Sansa wondered. Vainly, she searched for friendly faces. Not one of them would meet her eyes. It was as if she had become a ghost, dead before her time. —A Game Of Thrones, Sansa V

Lyanna and Lady (part of Sansa’s soul) both died in the south, before their time.  

Lyanna’s ghost has haunted Cersei:  Cersei wanted to marry Rhaegar but ended married with Robert.  Both Rhaegar and Robert loved Lyanna.

Lady is mentioned in the Books as a “shade”, a synonym for ghost.  And after Ned’s death, Sansa became a ghost at the Red Keep’s court.

And to finish this section, here some gifsets that illustrate some of the Lyanna & Sansa parallels that were mentioned:

Sansa Stark and Lyanna Stark + parallels

Pleading

She-wolves of Winterfell

Beautiful, Captivating Child-Women 

Hidden Metal ft. hair parallels

Broken ‘Baratheon’ Engagements ft. more hair parallels

Fair Maidens 

LYANNA & ARYA & SANSA

The wolf-blood:

I have already mentioned this aspect of Lyanna and Arya above, but Sansa has the wolf-blood too.  It’s subtle, but it’s there:

"I've never seen an aurochs," Sansa said, feeding a piece of bacon to Lady under the table. The direwolf took it from her hand, as delicate as a queen. Septa Mordane sniffed in disapproval. "A noble lady does not feed dogs at her table," she said, breaking off another piece of comb and letting the honey drip down onto her bread. "She's not a dog, she's a direwolf," Sansa pointed out as Lady licked her fingers with a rough tongue. "Anyway, Father said we could keep them with us if we want." The septa was not appeased. "You're a good girl, Sansa, but I do vow, when it comes to that creature you're as willful as your sister Arya." She scowled. "And where is Arya this morning?" —AGOT - Sansa I

"It won't be so bad, Sansa," Arya said. "We're going to sail on a galley. It will be an adventure, and then we'll be with Bran and Robb again, and Old Nan and Hodor and the rest." She touched her on the arm. "Hodor!" Sansa yelled. "You ought to marry Hodor, you're just like him, stupid and hairy and ugly!" She wrenched away from her sister's hand, stormed into her bedchamber, and barred the door behind her. —AGOT - Sansa III

Jeyne yawned. "Are there any lemon cakes?" Sansa did not like being interrupted, but she had to admit, lemon cakes sounded more interesting than most of what had gone on in the throne room. "Let's see," she said. The kitchen yielded no lemon cakes, but they did find half of a cold strawberry pie, and that was almost as good. They ate it on the tower steps, giggling and gossiping and sharing secrets, and Sansa went to bed that night feeling almost as wicked as Arya. —AGOT - Sansa III

After my name day feast, I'm going to raise a host and kill your brother myself. That's what I'll give you, Lady Sansa. Your brother's head." A kind of madness took over her then, and she heard herself say, "Maybe my brother will give me your head." —AGOT - Sansa VI

Knights protect the innocent:

Lyanna, as herself and as the Knight of the Laughing Tree, defended Howland Reed, a bannerman of House Stark:

"None offered a name, but he marked their faces well so he could revenge himself upon them later. They shoved him down every time he tried to rise, and kicked him when he curled up on the ground. But then they heard a roar. 'That's my father's man you're kicking,' howled the she-wolf." "A wolf on four legs, or two?" "Two," said Meera. "The she-wolf laid into the squires with a tourney sword, scattering them all. The crannogman was bruised and bloodied, so she took him back to her lair to clean his cuts and bind them up with linen. There he met her pack brothers: the wild wolf who led them, the quiet wolf beside him, and the pup who was youngest of the four. 

(...)

“Whoever he was, the old gods gave strength to his arm. The porcupine knight fell first, then the pitchfork knight, and lastly the knight of the two towers. None were well loved, so the common folk cheered lustily for the Knight of the Laughing Tree, as the new champion soon was called.” —ASOS - Bran II

Arya defended Mycah, the butcher’s boy:

Mycah shook his head. "It's only a stick, m'lord. It's not no sword, it's only a stick." "And you're only a butcher's boy, and no knight." Joffrey lifted Lion's Tooth and laid its point on Mycah's cheek below the eye, as the butcher's boy stood trembling. "That was my lady's sister you were hitting, do you know that?" A bright bud of blood blossomed where his sword pressed into Mycah's flesh, and a slow red line trickled down the boy's cheek. "Stop it!" Arya screamed. She grabbed up her fallen stick. Sansa was afraid. "Arya, you stay out of this." "I won't hurt him … much," Prince Joffrey told Arya, never taking his eyes off the butcher's boy. Arya went for him. Sansa slid off her mare, but she was too slow. Arya swung with both hands. There was a loud crack as the wood split against the back of the prince's head, and then everything happened at once before Sansa's horrified eyes. — AGOT - Sansa I

Sansa, as a lady armored with her courtesy and wits, defended a defenestrated knight turned fool:  

The king stood. "A cask from the cellars! I'll see him drowned in it." Sansa heard herself gasp. "No, you can't." Joffrey turned his head. "What did you say?" Sansa could not believe she had spoken. Was she mad? To tell him no in front of half the court? She hadn't meant to say anything, only . . . Ser Dontos was drunk and silly and useless, but he meant no harm. "Did you say I can't? Did you?" "Please," Sansa said, "I only meant . . . it would be ill luck, Your Grace . . . to, to kill a man on your name day." "You're lying," Joffrey said. "I ought to drown you with him, if you care for him so much." "I don't care for him, Your Grace." The words tumbled out desperately. "Drown him or have his head off, only . . . kill him on the morrow, if you like, but please . . . not today, not on your name day. I couldn't bear for you to have ill luck . . . terrible luck, even for kings, the singers all say so . . ." Joffrey scowled. He knew she was lying, she could see it. He would make her bleed for this. "The girl speaks truly," the Hound rasped. "What a man sows on his name day, he reaps throughout the year." His voice was flat, as if he did not care a whit whether the king believed him or no. Could it be true? Sansa had not known. It was just something she'd said, desperate to avoid punishment. Unhappy, Joffrey shifted in his seat and flicked his fingers at Ser Dontos. "Take him away. I'll have him killed on the morrow, the fool." "He is," Sansa said. "A fool. You're so clever, to see it. He's better fitted to be a fool than a knight, isn't he? You ought to dress him in motley and make him clown for you. He doesn't deserve the mercy of a quick death." The king studied her a moment. "Perhaps you're not so stupid as Mother says." He raised his voice. "Did you hear my lady, Dontos? From this day on, you're my new fool. You can sleep with Moon Boy and dress in motley." —ACOK - Sansa I

She-Wolves of Winterfell:

Lyanna and Arya are often referred as She-Wolves in the Books, but in a very subtle and poetical way, Sansa is referred as a She-Wolf too: 

He smiled at her. "Now, wolf girl, if you can put a name to me as well, then I must concede that you are truly our Hand's daughter." —AGOT - Sansa I

"I forgot, you've been hiding under a rock. The northern girl. Winterfell's daughter. We heard she killed the king with a spell, and afterward changed into a wolf with big leather wings like a bat, and flew out a tower window. But she left the dwarf behind and Cersei means to have his head." —ASOS - Arya XIII

"May the Father judge him justly," murmured a septon. "The dwarf's wife did the murder with him," swore an archer in Lord Rowan's livery. "Afterward, she vanished from the hall in a puff of brimstone, and a ghostly direwolf was seen prowling the Red Keep, blood dripping from his jaws." —ASOS - Jaime VII

"Your Grace has forgotten the Lady Sansa," said Pycelle. The queen bristled. "I most certainly have not forgotten that little she-wolf." She refused to say the girl's name. "I ought to have shown her to the black cells as the daughter of a traitor, but instead I made her part of mine own household. She shared my hearth and hall, played with my own children. I fed her, dressed her, tried to make her a little less ignorant about the world, and how did she repay me for my kindness? She helped murder my son.  —AFFC - Cersei IV

What a kick-ass reputation: Sansa, the wolf that killed King Joffrey! 

Fond of Flowers:

Lyanna, Arya and Sansa are linked with flowers:

Ned could recall none of it. "I bring her flowers when I can," he said. "Lyanna was … fond of flowers." —A Game Of Thrones - Eddard I

None of which stopped Arya, of course. One day she came back grinning her horsey grin, her hair all tangled and her clothes covered in mud, clutching a raggedy bunch of purple and green flowers for Father. Sansa kept hoping he would tell Arya to behave herself and act like the highborn lady she was supposed to be, but he never did, he only hugged her and thanked her for the flowers. That just made her worse. Then it turned out the purple flowers were called poison kisses, and Arya got a rash on her arms. —AGOT - Sansa I

It was enough that she could walk in the yard, pick flowers in Myrcella's garden, and visit the sept to pray for her father. Sometimes she prayed in the godswood as well, since the Starks kept the old gods. —AGOT - Sansa V

"Do you require guarding?" Marillion said lightly. "I am composing a new song, you should know. A song so sweet and sad it will melt even your frozen heart. 'The Roadside Rose,' I mean to call it. About a baseborn girl so beautiful she bewitched every man who laid eyes upon her." — ASOS - Sansa VII

Her eyes were only for Ser Loras. When the white horse stopped in front of her, she thought her heart would burst. To the other maidens he had given white roses, but the one he plucked for her was red. "Sweet lady," he said, "no victory is half so beautiful as you." Sansa took the flower timidly, struck dumb by his gallantry. His hair was a mass of lazy brown curls, his eyes like liquid gold. She inhaled the sweet fragrance of the rose and sat clutching it long after Ser Loras had ridden off. —AGOT - Sansa II

Songs:

While Arya likes songs about heroes and adventures:

Arya named hers after some old witch queen in the songs. —Bran II - AGOT

She could stay with Hot Pie, or maybe Lord Beric would find her there. Anguy would teach her to use a bow, and she could ride with Gendry and be an outlaw, like Wenda the White Fawn in the songs. —ASOS - Arya XII

Lyanna and Sansa are linked with singers and romantic songs and stories that move them to cry.  

As I said before, the story about Bael the Bard and the Rose of Winterfell resembles Jon’s own story: Bael/Rhaegar (both harp players/bards) abducting/eloping Brandon's daughter/Lyanna, ‘the fairest flower that blooms in the gardens o' Winterfell’.  Sansa is also linked with this story, as was explained above.  

The dragon prince sang a song so sad it made the wolf maid sniffle. —ASOS - Bran II

Later, while Sansa was off listening to a troupe of singers perform the complex round of interwoven ballads called the “Dance of the Dragons,” [sung in High Valyrian] Ned inspected the bruise himself. “I hope Forel is not being too hard on you,” he said. —AGOT - Eddard VII

She pulled a chair close to the hearth, took down one of her favorite books, and lost herself in the stories of Florian and Jonquil, of Lady Shella and the Rainbow Knight, of valiant Prince Aemon and his doomed love for his brother’s queen. —AGOT - Sansa IV

After the meal had been cleared away, many of the guests asked leave to go to the sept. Cersei graciously granted their request. Lady Tanda and her daughters were among those who fled. For those who remained, a singer was brought forth to fill the hall with the sweet music of the high harp. He sang of Jonquil and Florian, of Prince Aemon the Dragonknight and his love for his brother's queen, of Nymeria's ten thousand ships. They were beautiful songs, but terribly sad. Several of the women began to weep, and Sansa felt her own eyes growing moist. —ACOK - Sansa VI

So the singer played for her, so soft and sad that Arya only heard snatches of the words, though the tune was half-familiar. Sansa would know it, I bet. Her sister had known all the songs, and she could even play a little, and sing so sweetly. All I could ever do was shout the words.—A Storm of Swords - Arya IV

Once, when she was just a little girl, a wandering singer had stayed with them at Winterfell for half a year. An old man he was, with white hair and windburnt cheeks, but he sang of knights and quests and ladies fair, and Sansa had cried bitter tears when he left them, and begged her father not to let him go. “The man has played us every song he knows thrice over,” Lord Eddard told her gently. “I cannot keep him here against his will. You need not weep, though. I promise you, other singers will come.”  They hadn’t, though, not for a year or more. Sansa had prayed to the Seven in their sept and old gods of the heart tree, asking them to bring the old man back, or better still to send another singer, young and handsome. But the gods never answered, and the halls of Winterfell stayed silent.  But that was when she was a little girl, and foolish. She was a maiden now, three-and-ten and flowered. All her nights were full of song, and by day she prayed for silence. —A Feast for Crows - Sansa I

This is a contrast with Arya who thinks love songs are stupid: Another stupid love song. Lanna was always begging the singer to play her stupid love songs. —AFFC - Cat Of The Canals

So there you have it.  There is more to say, but I think I covered the basics.

Thanks for your message.

#anon ask #sansa stark #arya stark #lyanna stark

[fullmetalscullyy]

the way it was - chapter 16

summary:  what if riza never went to war?  riza hawkeye has just married the man she loves. six months into their marriage, an unexpected surprise stops her from following roy to the military. a canon divergence au that explores what might have happened had riza been unable to join the military. there will be plenty of family fluff, angst, and royai.

rated: m | warnings: no archive warning apply

chapter 15 | read on ao3

1914

like ships in the night

you keep passing me by

Riza knew there was something wrong when the clock hit six o’clock and Roy still wasn’t home from the office yet. Normally whenever he was late, he’d always phone home with an apology and the promise he’d pick up something on the way home for dinner, to save troubling herself with making dinner.

The clock struck six thirty and Riza phoned the office, too worried to wait any longer. There was no answer.

“Mummy, are you all right?” Mia was looking up at her worriedly, eyes wide and concerned. Hayate was sitting next to Mia, he too was looking up at her, head cocked in concern. Riza took a deep breath and pulled apart her hands, stopping them from wringing together in her lap.

“I’m all right, Honey,” she smiled, forcing it on her face. Hayate walked up and licked her hands, his tail wagging as he quietly whined. Riza scratched him behind the ears with a smile. “Have you finished your dinner,” she asked their five-year-old. Her birthday was a few weeks ago and Riza was still bewildered that her baby girl was five years old. That night she’d almost been in tears, but happy tears. She’d never have imagined that her life would turn out this way. She never dreamed she’d end up marrying the love of her life and have a child with him who was incredibly sweet, kind-hearted, and bright. She was truly lucky.

Mia nodded proudly as she kicked her legs happily in her chair. “Yep! All done.”

“Okay. Time to clean up!” Maybe tearing her attention away from the clock would ease her anxiety. Everything was fine. Roy would walk through that door apologetic and all smiles and love for them both.

Eight o’clock came, and he didn’t.

“Hello?” Chris Mustang answered.

“Chris, it’s me,” Riza greeted quietly, swallowing as she geared herself up for asking this question. There was silence on the other end of the line, and Riza tried not to take that to heart. She ploughed on ahead, drawing on strength from inside of her to continue as she gripped the phone tightly in her grasp. “I… I’ve not heard from Roy and he’s not come home tonight. Do you know where he is?” Her voice cracked on the last word.

Still, there was silence.

“Chris?” she asked, voice desperate.

“Riza, can you sit down for me?”

Her blood ran cold. Dread crawled up her spine painfully, her stomach dropping to the floor. Her mouth fell open, expecting the worst.

He’s dead.

No, no, no, no, no, no –

“Riza? Roy’s all right. I promise. I’ve got him here at the bar.”

All her breath left her in a rush. Her body shook from the relief. Her knees wobbled and she almost fell to the floor.

“Why –?”

“He just arrived,” Chris reassured her. Someone spoke on the other end of the line, but Christmas shushed them. “It’s… Something has happened Riza. Can you sit down.”

“I’m down…” she whispered in a daze. In all fairness, she’d slid down the wall that was holding her up. Her legs had given out, unable to hold her weight. All thought of keeping quiet for Mia’s sake went out the window. Not that Riza could speak any louder than a whisper at this point anyway, but Mia had just gone to bed, and once she was asleep Riza had dived for the phone and called the one person who would probably know where her husband was.

 She wanted to talk to him. What had happened? Why had he gone there and not come home? What bad thing had happened?!

“Riza? Shit, there’s not an easy way to say this. Maes Hughes died tonight.”

What? Riza blinked. No. That was ridiculous. No, he wasn’t dead. The grinning man who always managed to lift her mood effortlessly? The loving father who bragged about his kid on a daily basis, reciting the same adorable story over and over again? He was dead? No. She refused to believe it.

“Riza? Riza!” Chris was calling to her, a hint of worry in her tone.

No, this reality must be real, because she’d never heard that tone with Chris before.

He’s dead…

“I’m here,” she whispered. A tear tracked down her cheek silently.

“Are you all right?”

Roy. Riza shook her head, too stunned to remember Chris couldn’t see her. When Chris prompted her again, Riza answered. “Uh,” she swallowed. “Yes.” Her voice was hoarse. It sounded foreign to her own ears.

“Shit,” Chris sighed. It sounded like her breath caught in her throat.

“Where’s Roy?”

Chris was quiet for a moment. “He came here for information about Maes’ killer.” 

Riza swallowed the vomit that had climbed up her throat unwillingly. Someone had killed him… He’d been murdered…

Oh god. Gracia and Elicia.

“Can… Can I talk to him?”

There was no reply. It had been quiet for so long, she was about to prompt Chris when Roy answered.

“Hello.”

Her heart constricted. Riza subconsciously lifted a hand to rest there, gripping her shirt tightly as if that would ease some of her pain. He sounded so defeated, so broken.

“Roy? Are you all right?”

It was a stupid question. Riza wanted to ask so much more, but the words wouldn’t come out. Not in her current emotional state.

“Not really, I…” He struggled, trying to form an answer. His voice was gravelly and he cleared his throat a few times. He’d been crying. Riza was sure of it. “I won’t be home tonight.”

“Okay,” Riza nodded.

“I don’t know when…”

“Take all the time you need, Roy. I’ll be here.”

There was more silence.

“Roy?” Riza prompted.

“Uh, thanks. Yeah… Sorry,” he finally finished. That one word held so much sorrow in it, Riza was taken back. She sat up straighter on the floor.

“Roy?” she called to him gently. “Get some rest, okay? Stay with your mother tonight. There’s no point travelling if you’re not up to it. We’ll be fine, okay?”

“Okay.”

“Call me if you need anything, all right?” she stressed, hoping to get through to him. “I love you.”

“Yeah… Love you too. Bye,” he replied.

The dial tone rang in her ears. Riza hung up the phone but returned to the floor. Her head fell back to rest on the wall behind her. Tears dripped down her cheeks as she mourned the best friend she’d lost.

She just hoped and prayed Roy would be all right. Chris would take care of him, she knew that. Riza was glad he was somewhere safe at least.

*          *          *

Riza tossed and turned all night. Sleep refused to claim her. Alternating between crying for the loss of a friend and staring blankly at the ceiling above her, Riza eventually gave up at six o’clock in the morning.

“Good morning, Mummy,” Mia greeted sleepily, but happily when Riza went into her daughter’s room. Her heart clenched in her chest. How would she explain to Mia that the man she adored was no longer a part of this world? Ever since she was little, Mia had adored Maes Hughes. Growing up he was the cool uncle who snuck her sweets and helped her play tricks on her father. They were thick as thieves. Tears threatened to rise to her eyes. She couldn’t do that to Mia. She couldn’t take that away from her.

Except someone already has.

“Good morning, Sweetie.” Riza crouched at Mia’s head and stroked her forehead with her thumb, pushing her unruly black hair away from her eyes. It was almost time for a haircut. That fringe was a nightmare, never sitting in the same place twice, just like her father’s hair. Unable to restrain herself, Riza leaned forward and hugged Mia tightly. Squeezing her eyes closed, Riza basked in the comfort the girl provided. The beaming smile Mia shot her when Riza pulled away gripped her heart painfully.

Roy still wasn’t home by the time they had finished breakfast, so it was a decision Riza had to make herself. She wouldn’t tell Mia this morning. Today was Friday. She’d explain to Mia what had happened to Maes when she came home from school tonight. Then, they’d have all weekend to discuss what happened and figure things out.

Riza swallowed the lump in her throat as Mia skipped past the school gates to greet her friends. She didn’t want to take that happiness away from her. She was far too young to learn about death.

Once home, Riza took a deep breath as she stood in front of the phone. She had to call Gracia. She didn’t know how to begin though. Should she just call and offer her condolences? Should she go over and see her? Had Gracia already had so many visitors, that she was sick of them? It was only nine thirty, but Riza didn’t know when it had happened yesterday.

Riza turned away from the phone and leaned heavily against the wall behind her. Pressing the heels of her hands into her eyes, she took two deep breaths and let them out slowly. Tears dripped out of her tightly wound fingers, down onto her shirt.

Oh, Maes…

Poor Gracia. Poor Elicia.

Through the night, she thought about what she would do in this situation. Could she really go on without Roy in her life? Riza doubted it. It had been awful when he left the first time to go to the academy. Her life had been filled with happiness and warmth, painted in brilliant colours. After he’d left, those colours had dulled to greys, and the cold weaved its way cruelly through her childhood home, chilling her bones.

She never wanted to go through that again.

Riza shrugged on her jacket. Her decision was made. Her hands were shaking when she knocked on Gracia’s apartment door. She heard movement, and Riza felt her heart thudding loudly in her chest.

“Hi,” Riza greeted lamely, but that was all she could come out with. Gracia’s tear stained face offered her a smile, as usual, then it fell and her face crumpled. To Riza’s surprise, her arms opened automatically and Gracia fell into them as she sobbed. Patting her head, Riza whispered how sorry she was to her old friend and held her in the doorway to her apartment.

*          *          *

The conversation with Mia was awful. Her eyes welled up with tears and they dropped down her cheeks, big drops hitting and staining her pale pink t-shirt.

“But why, Mummy? Why is he gone?” she warbled more than once, and it broke Riza’s heart every time.

“I don’t know, Honey,” she’d whispered into her daughter’s hair, rocking her backwards and forwards in her grief. Mia was too young to learn about death. She was only five years old. Far too young.

Riza couldn't hide it from her though. How could she? If Mia asked when Uncle Maes was coming home and Gracia overheard it would upset her. It was better for Mia too in the long run if Riza explained as gently as she could that Uncle Maes was gone forever, and Mia would never see him again. 

The front door opened, much to their surprise. Riza jumped, lost in the moment with her daughter to pay too much attention to what was happening outside of their conversation.

Roy…

He walked in the house and shrugged off his jacket. It was hung on the peg by the door without a word. It was late. Almost nine o’clock at night. After visiting Gracia, Riza had phoned Chris again, and her mother-in-law had advised Riza that Roy had gone to work.

“I’m worried about him, Riza,” Chris confided in her. “Watch out for him, okay?”

“What do you mean?” Riza asked, dread coiling inside her stomach.

“He’s not himself. Just keep an eye on him.”

Then the line went dead. It was unfair how little information she’d been given, but that was Chris’ style. Need to know only, and apparently Riza was deemed unfit to know. That stung.

“Daddy?” Mia sniffed, calling to her father. Roy paused on the bottom step, his hand still on the banister, then continued up the stairs without a word. A door slammed and Mia jumped in Riza’s arms.

“Let’s give Daddy a little time to himself, okay Mia Bear?” Riza swallowed. “Remember, he’s upset too.”

Mia nodded in agreement but was unusually quiet for the rest of the night. She went down without a fight and barely said a word, only opting to speak after she’d been tucked in.

“Mummy?” she asked quietly.

“Yes, Mia?”

“Is Daddy really sad?” she whispered fearfully.

“He is, Honey. He’s very sad about Uncle Maes.”

Mia nodded and tears collected in her eyes again. “I don’t want him to be sad. I want him to be happy again.”

“I know,” Riza murmured. She stroked Mia’s cheek with her thumb. “But that can’t always happen. It’s okay for people to be sad when they need to be. This is one of those times because a very sad thing happened.”

“Okay,” Mia whispered.

“Sometimes Mummy and Daddy are allowed to be sad.”

“Would you be sad if I died?” Mia asked.

Riza almost fell off the bed. Pure terror gripped her entire being at the thought. No one was allowed to take her daughter away from her. No one.

“Mia,” Riza whispered, face pained as tears fell down her cheeks. “Of course, I would. We both would. We’d be extremely sad.”

“Sorry,” she warbled, her body beginning to shake. “I didn’t mean to make you cry,” Mia sobbed.

Riza untucked her daughter and pulled her into a fierce hug. “Please,” she pleaded. “Don’t ask that question again,” Riza whispered.

“Okay, I won’t.” Riza squeezed her eyes shut at the thought of burying her –

Her breaths were becoming shorter and sharper.

“It’s okay, Mummy,” Mia whispered. Her voice was calmer now, her shaking subsiding. “I’ll make sure you’re never sad again.” Pulling away, Mia was looking up at Riza with a determined look. A smile made its way across her tear stained face. “I promise.”

Riza kissed her cheek, lingering for a moment longer. “Thank you, Mia. Now, get some sleep, okay?”

Mia nodded and crawled back into her bed. Her eyes drooped with the emotional exhaustion from the evening. Within a few minutes, she was asleep.

Riza stood and approached the door quietly, smiling at how adorable her daughter was. Then, her smile fell. Now she had to face Roy.

Riza knocked on the door to their bedroom quietly. Roy was in bed already and the room was in darkness. He appeared to be asleep. Creeping around the bed, she saw the dark bruises underneath his eyes and his ragged face, even in sleep. Her heart ached for him. Kneeling by his side, she smoothed out the frown on his forehead with her thumb. His face twitched at the initial contact, but never moved farther than that. Eventually, she managed to rid him of his frown.

“I’m so sorry, Roy,” she whispered brokenly, feeling a fresh set of tears threaten to overwhelm her. Taking a shaky breath, Riza kissed his cheek then stood, leaving the room to lock up the house and get ready for bed.

As soon as she was underneath the sheet, hands gripped her waist like a vice. Riza yelped as she was drawn back, her heart rate spiking at the unexpected contact. Roy kissed her fiercely… No. Desperately. His hands roamed over her body eagerly. Desperately. It elicited moans from her as he always did with his touch, but he needed to wait. She needed to speak to him first.

“Roy,” she whispered as his mouth moved to her neck. The only reply was a grunt. “Roy,” she stated more firmly this time, but the end was cut off by her own muffled moan. 

His lips and tongue were attacking her neck and underneath her ears while his hands found their way to her skin, underneath her pyjama top. Riza bit her lip. In the back of her mind she knew this wasn’t right. This wasn’t what he needed. They needed to talk. He was desperate, seeking only to feel and forget. Nothing more. This wasn’t the right path for him in his grief.

“Roy, stop!” she commanded. There was a moment when Riza didn’t think he’d listen to her, but he faltered, his hands smoothing over the skin of her stomach to fall to the bed by her hip. He was panting hard, his body beginning to shake.

Riza lifted her hands, placing them on his cheeks. They were wet. As soon as they made eye contact his face crumpled.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, his body shaking even more violently.

Riza hushed him, and Roy dropped his head to the crook of her neck. His sobs were muffled by her skin and the bed. His arms wrapped around her torso tightly, his grip ironclad. Placing a hand on the back of his head, Riza held him in place as she cried too, cradling him close while whispering, telling him to let it all out.

*          *          *

“He was murdered,” Roy stated into the darkness of their bedroom. Riza tensed but said nothing. His tone was flat, emotionless. It was terrifying.

After he’d finished crying Roy rolled over onto his back and remained unmoving. He just stared ahead at the ceiling and didn’t say a word. However, he did pull Riza with him and held her tightly against his body. Her head lay on his chest, her ear right over his heart. The steady thump eased her worries.

Licking her lips, Riza nervously considered her next words. “How are you doing?”

There was no answer for quite some time. She gave up waiting and snuggled back into his side in defeat. She would just be here for him if that’s what he needed.

“Numb,” he stated, his voice hoarse. Roy took in a shaky breath and let it out in a rush. Riza felt his body shudder underneath her. “Overall, I feel numb,” he repeated, his tone slow and careful.

“And individually?” she ventured.

“Furious. Heartbroken. Lost.” Another shaky breath was let out in a rush. “He was my best frie –” He couldn’t even finish the word.

Riza just hugged him tighter. “Why are you angry?”

She didn’t look up from staring at his abdomen, but Riza felt his head crane down to look at her.

“What do you mean, “why”?” he asked, his tone disbelieving, and with a hint of irritation in it. Riza tried not to let her cringe show. She didn’t want to mess this up.

“I’m just trying to understand. It’s healthy to talk about it.”

Roy was silent again. The only sound in the room was their breathing, but his head didn’t move from staring down at her. “I’m furious because someone killed my best friend,” he stated, tone cold. “Is that a good enough answer for you?”

Riza blanched. “I didn’t mean that, I meant –”

“I’m furious because all I can picture is little Elicia growing up without a father now. Now Gracia has to go on without her husband. It’s so unfair.” His tone was heated. The hand by his side clenched into a fist.

Riza understood that. She felt so much sorrow for that small family. They were perfect in every way, and now they’ve lost a part of it. It was unfair, and Maes Hughes certainly didn’t deserve an end like that.

“When I find out who did it, I’m going to barbeque them from the inside out.”

Riza gagged quietly. His tone was hard and unforgiving. She’d never heard him speak like that before.  It terrified her. What he was saying… It made Riza sick to think her husband was capable of that, but he probably was. He’d probably already done it in Ishval. Riza swallowed the sick that jumped up her throat at that thought. She jerked up from his body and placed a hand on her chest, willing her racing heart to calm down. The bile moved back down her throat and into her stomach, thankfully.

“Please don’t do that,” Riza whispered into the night.

“What?” His voice had a hint of coldness to it.

“Please don’t go and get revenge –”

The bed jostled roughly, Roy sitting up with a fire in his eyes. “You’re asking me to forget all about it?” he asked, voice low and dangerous.

Riza shook her head. She lowered the hand from her chest. “No. I’m asking you not to do anything drastic.”

Roy jumped up from his bed. “I can’t believe I’m hearing this,” he muttered under his breath. “From you! Of all people!” His voice was rising and Riza had half a mind to shush him in case he woke up Mia, but that would do more harm than good with him in this state.

Riza felt her irritation spike after he spoke. “I’m not allowed to ask my husband to not do something stupid that might get him court-martialled or killed?” she countered.

“I won’t drop this,” he growled. Riza stopped at the look in his eyes. He looked slightly crazed, but that might have been the grief. It was hard to tell in the dim light of the room. “I can’t believe you’re asking me to.”

“Stop putting words in my mouth,” Riza snapped back, but with less bite than was warranted. Arguing wouldn’t help here, but she wasn’t going to let him do that to her or talk to her like that. She would never ask Roy to give up or forget about Maes. Never in a million years. Riza just didn’t want her husband to die along with him. “I’m asking you to be rational and not to go out for blind revenge. That will do more harm than good to everyone involved.”

“I can’t believe it,” Roy scoffed, a hint of a smirk on his face. But there was no love or laughter there. “I can’t abandon him, or his family –” He wasn’t listening to her.

“For the last time, I’m not asking you to!” Riza exploded. “Roy, think clearly about this. Please. For Mia’s sake. I don’t want her to grow up without a father too.”

“No, but you don’t care if Elicia does, do you?” His tone was as cold as the blood running in her veins. The air temperature in the room dropped considerably, and silence enveloped them both in a suffocating blanket.

“How dare you.” Tears filled her eyes, but Roy didn’t even falter. His gaze was hard as he stared at her, unforgiving. There was no getting through to him. He wasn’t listening to a word she said. “Get out,” she commanded, her tone flat.

Roy scoffed, shrugging on a t-shirt and hoodie. “I’m already gone,” he muttered. The bedroom door slammed loudly behind him, shattering her perfect world once and for all.

In the back of her mind she knew that wasn’t the best course of action given his current mental state, but Riza couldn’t even bear the sight of him. How dare he accuse her of that? She loved Elicia just as much as he did and treated her goddaughter like she was already part of her family. Roy knew this, and yet, he was throwing wild accusations like that in her face? At a time like this? She wouldn’t stand for that.

Everyone dealt with grief differently. That was a fact. Riza had helped Roy through it before and was more than willing to help him again. They’d made a promise to work together as a team. They were useless apart, but together? Unstoppable.

This was not them working together. This was Roy pushing her away again like he did with Ishval, but in a much, much worse way. He was hurting her with his horrible words and was probably very aware of it.

Riza was hurt and her mind was running a mile a minute with so many different scenarios, that she never even noticed it was her own insecurities playing up again, rearing their ugly heads. Roy loved her, but he was hurting, and he had lashed out at her.

He’s never done it to you before though.

He loved Riza. She knew that.

Maybe he’s tired of you because you bring him so much guilt.

No. He loved her…

You got him into that mess in Ishval by giving him the secrets to flame alchemy.

His suffering is on you.

He…

Riza’s panic threatened to overwhelm her. Her breaths were short and sharp, loud and fearful. It felt like she couldn’t get enough air in her lungs. Her vision was greying around the edges the longer this went on, and she began to feel woozy. She needed out. She needed to get out of this house. The walls were closing in on her, threatening to crush her into tiny pieces. 

Get out, get out, get out.

She couldn’t. Mia.

Riza stood, frozen, in their bedroom alone. Roy was gone. She didn’t blame him. She had brought him only pain and suffering. It was she who’d led him to the knowledge of flame alchemy. Riza had unleashed it upon the world without a thought of how it would affect anyone. She just wanted to relieve herself of her own burden.

Selfish.

She burdened him so much. Every day he came home to a wife and a child. That must have filled him with so much guilt. He’d taken that right away from thousands of people. What right did he have to return to a happy home now? He was working to atone for his sins of the past, but he wouldn’t even have to if she’d just kept her mouth shut.

Selfish. You burden him every day.

Riza was gripping the bathroom sink with such force she thought the porcelain might crack. Her body was heaving with sobs as they fell down her cheeks and splattered into the sink, mixing with the droplets already there. She couldn’t get a handle on it. Her breathing was erratic. She still couldn’t get enough air. Her vision was tunnelling now.

I’m losing him.

That hurt more than anything in the world.

Riza stood and looked at herself in the mirror. She swayed in place losing her balance. Catching herself, her body pitched to the left as her vision blurred. Now, she felt like she couldn’t breathe at all.

There was a loud clatter in the room as she fell to the floor, her head hitting the tile painfully hard.

#royai #royai fic #royai fanfic #royai au #emma writes #the way it was

[ladyfenring]

“Is this how you thought your life would be?” + oh jaime and anyone.

Aerys is in a red rage, as he so often is these days. It’s because he is losing the war, Jaime knows. Robert has taken most of the Seven Kingdoms and killed Rhaegar, and it will only be a matter of time before he marches on the city itself. Aerys’s schemes and suspicions have been for naught, and he knows it.

“Leave!” he bellows at Jaime…and because Jaime was taught to obey his king, he does.

He has no love for Aerys…but then, Aerys was never the reason he’d joined the Kingsguard anyway. He’d joined to be close to Cersei, to belong to no one but her. And then she’d been taken from him anyway, back to Casterly Rock by their furious father, and Jaime had been left to protect a decrepit monster he’d sooner see dead.

Princess Elia is in the corridor when he leaves the chamber. Her eyes are red, as they so often are these days, though Jaime cannot help wondering why. Grief for her husband’s death? Grief for his abandoning her and taking Lyanna Stark? Grief for her cousin Lewyn? Grief for this gilded cage to which she has been summoned? Dragonstone is dismal in its own way, but at least there she is not just free, but mistress of the island. Here, she is Aerys’s prisoner.

“Princess Elia,” he says respectfully, bowing.

“Ser Jaime. I wonder, is this what you had in mind when you pledged your service to the king?”

She has bagged him neat as a hare in a snare. To say yes makes him sound weak and stupid, to say no would be treason.

So he says nothing.

“Our mothers wanted us to marry once,” she continues, surprising him. “They had been close, and wanted you to marry me, and your sister to marry my brother Oberyn. But when your mother died, your father claimed Cersei was to marry Rhaegar, and offered your brother Tyrion for me instead.” There is the faintest smirk on her lips. “It gave me no small amount of satisfaction to wed Rhaegar, if only to spite your father.” The smile falls from her lips. “But I think perhaps your sister should have married him after all.”

Jaime swallows. “My lady—“

“Can you imagine what would have happened had your mother not died? Your sister would be in Sunspear, you and I would be in Casterly Rock, Rhaegar would have wed some other unfortunate girl, and neither of us would be enduring this miserable old tyrant.”

It’s a pretty thought, however unwillingly he thinks it. He loves Cersei…but they were never going to be together. Not if he was heir to Casterly Rock, not now. And Elia…well, he could have been happy with her. Happier than either of them are right now, to be sure.

Elia sighs, pulling him from his musings. “But here we are.”

“But here we are,” he agrees.

She gives him a humorless smile. “Take care, Ser Jaime.”

If Jaime knew that would be the last time he would see the princess alive, he might have said something else, might have done something else. But he did not, and a few hours later, his father’s army gathers outside the gates.

#fic by me #murraybaeman

[lisinfleur]

More Like Him

Author’s Notes | I’m sorry taking so long for posting, love! I hope you enjoy! Universe | Vikings Pairing | Hvitserk x Reader Info | Viking Age AU, requested by @moonlightsspirit for 5CW5 Words | 1727 ⁑ Warnings: ANGST.

His laugh died when his eyes found you face at the table. Hvitserk sighed.

There it was again...

They were in the middle of a feast, why were you so bored? Why you couldn't have fun with him anymore?

Why his nights weren't ending in delicious sex and laughing with you as it used to be?

Why were your eyes always over his older brother and Torvi, leaving the party earlier because one of their children was sleeping already and the other two were sleepy, asking for more arms than the two of them could offer?

"We're going home," he said, surprising everyone for cutting a conversation that was going so well, getting up from nowhere to leave.

But you just got up, leaving the table with him, not even noticing the conversation didn't have ended, but he had decided to leave spontaneously. Suddenly.

In the way out, your eyes found them: Ubbe and Torvi carrying their children. She was tying up the younger one to her chest while Ubbe was lifting up the second of their line. The older one in his back as a backpack. Such a beautiful scene...

But you didn't watch it until the end: Hvitserk's voice called your attention, sounding harsh.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?"

You frowned, looking at him. His face frowned, angry.

"Is that something with Ubbe that you don't stop looking at him?"

You sighed, rolling your eyes and starting to walk towards your house. Jealousy? At this time of your life?

Hvitserk had to be kidding you.

"I'm fucking speaking to you! Don't turn your back on me!" he yelled and you looked back, angry.

"I won't discuss our private life in the middle of the street, Hvitserk," you grunted back, in between your clenched teeth.

But he chuckled.

"Oh, so to tell me your reasons we have to be home, but to fucking look at him all the time making everyone at the feast ask themselves how much does my wife wants to be with my brother? This you can do in front of everyone!" he shouted again, angrily.

Surprising you with that stupid reaction, causing you to turn yourself back at him.

"Where the fuck did you took this stupid idea, Hvitserk?" you asked, still speaking low.

You weren't that drunk as he was. You didn't drink more than two or three cups. But he couldn't control his anger, answering loud enough to attract some attention towards the two of you, causing your anxiety to hit like a stone, accelerating the rhythm of your heart when even his brother and sister in law looked back at the two of you, trying to understand what was happening.

"It doesn't seem so stupid when you can't stop looking at him! It wasn't just today, Y/N! I'm seeing this for long now! I keep trying to get your attention, to make things good for us again, but you're always bored by my side, always rolling eyes when I speak or keeping yourself isolated, except when it is to look at Ubbe!"

"Stop it, Hvitserk!" You grunted in between your teeth, lower than before. "You're calling everyone's attention. Let us go home and talk properly..."

"I don't wanna go home!" he insisted.

Some more people coming out, hearing his voice. Sigurd came out as well... Ivar...

You started to feel surrounded. All those pair of eyes looking at you two...

"What's fucking happening?" he asked again, pressuring you to speak when you just wanted to leave.

You didn't want all those people looking at you.

You didn't want to talk to him about this.

Especially that way!

"Hvitserk, stop..."

But he insisted.

"Tell me what's going on!" he demanded.

And then...

You lost your mind.

"I'm not wanting to fuck your damn brother if that's what you think about me, Hvitserk!" your voice sounded louder than his, this time, silencing him and everyone around when you finally exploded. "But if you wanna know so hard why I can't stop looking at him, here is the reason why: that's because he fulfills his damn role as a husband! He gives Torvi children, made a beautiful family with her and cares for them more than for a damn cup of mead! Ubbe treasures his family and I envy Torvi, not because she's fucking banging your older brother, Hvitserk, but because she doesn't go to sleep at the end of the night with her house silent, neither is her womb dry! Her bed is not always smelling mead and her husband doesn't think about partying all the time! I don't look at Ubbe, Hvitserk! I look at his beautiful children! I look at how his wife is happy! I look at the beautiful life I wanted to have when I married you! The life you never gave me because you're too busy partying and laughing with friends to notice our life is stuck at the same point for years!"

The tears ran down your face when you realized what you have done...

The eyes that were on you before, were now on him.

The people around starting to whisper to each other, probably talking about how prince Hvitserk was failing as a husband.

You covered your mouth. Your throat closed when you just turned your back on him, running away towards your home, begging the floor to open itself and swallow you whole.

Hvitserk barely moved.

His eyes ran around, seeing everyone looking at him and for the first time, he realized how much attention he had attracted. He felt in his back the heavyweight of the pressure he unwillingly put on your back.

"That's enough... Moving... That's nothing for you to see here," Sigurd's voice sounded when his brothers started dispersing the people around.

"Come on... the feast is inside," Ivar said as Ubbe left his children with Torvi and came closer touching his little brother's shoulders.

"Hvitserk..."

"No," Hvitserk said, straightening himself.

The alcohol stopped completely its effect on his body. He sighed deeply, looking into Ubbe's eyes.

"She's right... I... I should have seen it before."

"Brother," Ubbe tried again, but Hvitserk held his hands.

"Don't worry."

With a sigh, your husband left his brother behind, walking in the same direction you ran.

Ubbe stood there, worried.

Hvitserk made the whole way home in slow steps, thinking about what he had heard.

The two of you were married for more time than Ubbe and Torvi... He married you right after Ubbe and Margrethe... His brother had left a wife and got another, had three kids and he was there, dry yet. He never knew you wanted children so bad, but he couldn't blame you for being so harsh after all...

It was a mistake to be so loud...

Your sobs were audible from the balcony when he arrived. Hvitserk sighed. How deep had his blindness hurt you?

He entered home slowly, hearing when you swallowed your sobs, getting up from the couch.

"Please don't leave," he asked, making you stop walking towards your room. "I'm sorry..."

"I didn't want to speak that loud. I didn't want people to look at us that way... I..." you started, looking at him.

But he sighed, lifting his hand.

"It was my fault. I called attention, I yelled... But Y/N... Why you didn't tell me?" he asked, looking into your eyes. "Why you didn't tell me you wanted children, a family? Why you remained silent about this?"

"I thought it was what you wanted when we got married," you answered, swallowing dry. "I thought you wanted to settle down and build a life. But you kept partying and then I thought you wanted us to get a little older... But it didn't stop. You don't seem to grow from parties and booze. That's not what I want forever, Hvitserk. I'm getting old. I'm dry and my youth won't allow me to bear children forever. I can't wait until it's too late to have a child and see it grow. I want to hold my own babies, to see their faces smiling back at me... I want to leave the parties earlier because my son needs to sleep or my daughter is annoyed with the loud music. I wanna wake up earlier because our baby is crying in the next room and needs me to feed him... I want to have a family." you said, embracing yourself.

"You wanna leave me?" he asked, looking at you. "I mean... All these dreams... Do you still see me into them, with you?"

Hvitserk was afraid and you could still read him. He didn't know until where your dreams were only yours now, until where he was still the father you wanted to your children.

You came closer, touching his face.

"I always wanted it to be yours. It is you who doesn't seem to want the same I want..." you answered, painfully.

"I thought it would happen... I mean... Naturally," he answered, looking back at you, leaning his face into your hand. "I thought you would get pregnant when the gods wanted it to happen..."

"I will," you answered, "But they won't give it to us if we don't start trying, Hvitserk. I count my days, I know my times. If you want a child, we can start trying for one. But you never showed any will or intention... You never talked about family or seemed interested. I thought... I thought you didn't want to have children with me," you confessed. "I thought you didn't want children at all."

"I do," he said, softly embracing your waist. "I wanna have a family with you. And settle down by your side. I love you, Y/N."

"I love you too," you answered. "I'm sorry for exploding that way. I shouldn't have kept this to myself for so long."

His hand caressed your face and he softly kissed your mouth.

"You shouldn't," he answered. "And I shouldn't have exposed us that way. We forgive each other and move on..." he said, nuzzling his nose to yours. "But you tell me what is into your heart from now on. So, I can know the way to make you happy again, my love."

You nodded, feeling his hands pulling you back into another kiss.

Maybe things would go right from now on.

Maybe now, your dreams would become true.

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[impactvelocity]

Goodbyes Suck (Legends of Tomorrow, T)

Fandom: Legends of Tomorrow

Rating: T (there’s the occasional swear, but it’s basically a lovefest.) (In a G way.)

Relationships: Gen, Ray/Nora, Nora & everybody

Words: 2,724

Summary: she’s never had to say goodbye before. she never had anyone to say goodbye to. turns out it’s kinda crappy.

Author: frickinsnowcheetah (impactvelocity)

A/N: I’m probably not done kicking this around, so it’s not up on AO3 yet, but it felt like time to cut it free, let it loose on the world. If you have feedback, I’d love to hear it.

This sucks.

She knew things would be different once she got out of the weird Time Bureau resort hotel prison, but this...caring? It HURTS.

It's not like the entire situation's devoid of joy; staying still obviously has appeal, she wouldn't have agreed and planned and made all the arrangements if she didn't want to try a life with Ray. She might have done all those things and avoided talking about them with Sara and Ava and Mona and John, but she WAS looking forward to it.

Ray had a friend (was Oliver Queen a friend? Ray said so, and she'd seen proof they'd been at more than one gala together, and they'd saved the world from Nazis and...okay, maybe Oliver Queen was a friend) who knew a guy-- a friend who could use a hand.

Well. It was more like all the universes collapsed into just this one and Ray happened to own the farm the other guy had owned on his earth and Ray's too good a guy to leave new people to fend for themselves even though Nora's pretty sure she saw the guy *flying* so she's not quite sure how much help he really needs. Also he's got a wife and kid, and those do take up a lot of time.  She's hoping to do some first hand research on that at some point (Maybe. At least the first step in the process.).

So they're gonna help the new people.

They're going to be...farmers.

Okay, that part holds less appeal. But..Ray? A home? Safety and security and love and a place that's *hers* where she doesn't have to run for her life or fight for it or get twisted up in anyone else's magic or the worst parts of her own? Yeah, that all sounds *good.*

But this right now? Sucks.

She's never had to say goodbye before.

Mick stares at her for a long moment, then nodded. "Let Gideon know where to send the manuscripts," he says, and then leaves the room. He forgets his beer bottle on the table, and when she calls after him, he tells her to finish it for him. He cares, in his Mick way, so she drinks.

That had been the easiest goodbye, actually.  John's a brief staring contest, a kiss on the forehead, and a promise that he'll always be around, pretty straightforward, especially for John. Ray gets a nod, then John's out of the room. Gary isn't too complicated, either; she promises to set up the wifi so they can keep playing D&D, and he seems pretty satisfied with that compromise. He even tries to give her and Ray their figures (they tell him to keep them, keep the party together) before he follows after John.  Zari had been pretty quick, too, though Behrad had pulled Nora into a hug that lasted a while. The siblings Tomaz weren't overly chatty about their emotions, either, so she let the hug do the talking.

Ray's hugs with Charlie and Z DID last a little long, though, even if they were standing in the place of verbal goodbyes--she figures there was something that happened before she was really around -- this ship is full  of history like that, the kind you didn't necessarily talk about, but you didn't ignore the results of, either. When Charlie told her to keep an eye on Ray, she nodded, throat too tight to speak--she'd never found out exactly WHY Charlie's so careful with Ray, but she knows the shifter cares.  It's one of the things she likes most about the Waverider. They all KNOW she was possessed by a demon, but she doesn't get weird looks or stares or endless questions about it all or how she feels about it or what she did, exactly.  It's not that they don't care, it's that who you are and what you're doing is more important than what you did or who you were. She's going to miss that.

Five down, four to go.

She swallows hard around the lump in her throat. Again.

There aren't a LOT of pictures lying around the Waverider, but there are some. She knows who everybody is because Ray's talked about all of them, almost always fondly. She's heard about how Martin died, how Rip died, how Jax got married and had a kid, how Kendra and Carter went to do the immortals-newly-free-of-the-asshole-who'd-been-hunting-them-for-two-thousand-years honeymoon-and-vigilante-ing thing, she's heard about Len. How Wally's finding himself and Amaya's protecting her village and family. It's the circle of Waverider life, apparently.

It still sucks.

She's heard the stories, seen the pictures change, and through all of them, three faces stayed present. They're the foundation upon which this family is built, Nora knows. She's not sure they've really thought about it, but she does know Sara's not keeping her face nearly as emotion free as she probably hopes.

Mick was always the easiest to understand. He was loyal, he trusted his partner. By extension, the team. He was SO different than the man who'd burned around Central City that she's read about in papers. He was the obvious demonstration of how people could--DID--change. If he could do it, so could they. He believed that, and he made sure they all knew it, even if he didn't talk about it much.

Now Ray, *Ray* talked about everything. He was the conviction they all needed. Someone with faith in each of them, no matter how many times they fell or fucked things up, Ray was always there to encourage them to stand back up, try again. It wasn't naivete -- he'd seen the world, been knocked around himself -- but he believed in everybody. In the *goodness* in everybody. No matter what. Whatever it took, Ray was there.

She's seen how the others lean on him, and she knows it's not weight he bears unwillingly, but not easily, either. He's leaned back, too, it's a balance they've worked out, but she worries about what happens when he's not there anymore.

There's a heaviness to Ray these days, though, a sadness and gravity that wasn't there before Neron. He'd been all light and optimism, and now...now there were shadows, too.

She knows what it feels like, like you can't take enough showers can't quite reach every nook and cranny in your brain to scrub out the feeling of the demon making itself at home in you, and if anybody can bounce back from that bullshit, it's Ray. She's doing pretty damn well herself, which is how she knows Ray can do it, too. But--change helped her. More than she's let on. Sure, prison wasn't her first choice, but with it came the chance to reassess, to accept things had happened and finally start to let them go. She'll always carry some of it, he'd been there since she was a *child* after all, but she wasn't scared of her magic any more, she could trust herself around Ray, she could be a friend--there are people who *want* her around, *want* to be her friend. That's still surreal.

She's never actually had friends before, she didn't even know they came like this.

They've all shuffled a bit closer, and Sara's the first to sniff, which makes Nate hold out his hand and Ava reach into her pocket and hand over a ten.

But then Ray hauls Ava over to him in a massive hug, and Sara launches herself at Nora, and she's got an armful of assassin hugging her, tight.

Sara had changed too, that was easy to see. Mick (and Len, she's told) was quietly insistent that she could lead this team, even when Sara was sure she shouldn't. Ray never doubted her, always supported her, and their combined belief kept her trying when giving in to old habits and still-raging instincts would have been easier and faster. They back her every play, and because of them, she can make the shitty, hard choices leaders have to make.

There's always been something dark around the edges of Sara, whether from the Lazarus Pit or Mallus or just herself, Nora doesn't know. But she's pushed it back. To hear Ray tell it, she'd been more than satisfied with her roll on the ship as the killer, the one who "took care of things." She was there to provide Rip the muscle he needed to overthrow the...you know, Nora never really followed it all when Ray got to talking about it. (He's a really distracting guy when he talks. Or stands. Breathes. She'd feel shallow, but she's caught him with the same glazed look on his face when she's been talking magic.)  And Sara was fine with that. For a while. No one *judged* her, especially when all their lives had been saved by her at one point or another. But Ray has very vocal feelings about Doing The Right Thing and...morals in general. It was hard to be around him and not try to be the version of you he saw: the very best you you could be.

It's not that the others are amoral assholes, but his loud strong voice doesn't care if you call him foolish or naive; he believes helping people and loving everyone really will solve problems. His speaking up makes it easier for others to do the same. So she knows the team will survive, but she worries about what voices of their lesser angels they'll listen to without Ray around to keep shouting them down. Hell, they'd been ready to turn Charlie over until Ray had argued not to, even when Ava had called him gullible. Now Charlie comes to book club sometimes.

With a last squeeze, Sara backs up. Her eyes are only darting up for quick glances, and Nora can see her take a deep breath in preparation of actually meeting Ray's eyes.

"Wait, wait, wait! I need a hug!" Mona cries, and bolts forward, stepping straight into Ray's arms. She starts telling Ray something, at a very high speed, and Sara floats over toward Nate, who wraps an arm around her waist when she leans into his side.

"I, uh--I took these before we shut the Bureau down," Ava says. She holds out a time courier out to Nora. "I know you've got the stone and all the magic, but..." she shrugs and stands there looking anguished.

"Oh my god, hug each other!" Sara calls, just as Mona says "Hug now!" She sounds exasperated, and it pulls a laugh from both Ava and Nora; this hug is tight, too.

Nora's never had anyone fighting in her corner before, and Ava believed in her when she was at her lowest, gave her a shot at really helping people, bouncing back from the nightmare of her childhood. Ave *understood* what it was like to have something that huge hanging over your head, informing everything. She never judged Nora (Well. Except about the time crimes. And some of Mallus's shit. There were extenuating circumstances, and once Ava realized she was sounding awfully superior and that she *had* been kinda judgy, she did her best to stop and treat Nora like a regular person, so.) She'd given her a *shot* without having much of a reason to, and Nora would always appreciate that.  That Ava was then willing to become her *friend*? Well, that would always feel as surprising as it did hearing she was a clone (that night had been *weird*).

And none of it would have happened without Mona. So when Ava steps back and Mona just shuffles over to Nora's side, she hugs her friend as tight as she can. Mona's arms are tight around her, too, and she can hear sniffling close to her ear. It's fine, she's crying too.

Her friend reminded her a lot of Ray, that irrepressible hope and faith that just pours out of both of them is hard to miss. But Mona straightens up pretty quickly and smiles. "You know we have a time ship," she says. Then holds up her wrist. "And time couriers. It's not like you're going to be unreachable!" Nora nods. It's not the same, and Mona's eyes say she totally knows that, but is determined not to let it matter.  "And we still have book club!"

"Yeah, that was doable when--"

"When Nora was in time prison, then in a magical coma?" Mona asks, cutting Ava off. "I know! 2,000 miles is cake compared to that!" she grins brightly at both Ava and Nora, and holds up a finger. "I'll be right back, I have your book in my room!" then she's gone.

Ava points at the drinks cart. "You want?" she asks.

Nora gets a good look at Nate and nods. Yes. Alcohol would be nice right about now. Ray's already sniffling in Sara's hair, and Sara's just ignoring the tears at this point as she speaks into his shoulder. Ray nods every so often, mumbles back.

"You can paint my bedroom blue," Nate says, aiming for levity.

It gets Nora to smile, she'll give him that. "What makes you think the house is gonna have any other bedrooms?" He grins, too. Like Ray Palmer would have a house without room for his friends. "I expect to see you over there, you know," she says. "He hated it when you moved off the ship."

"I came back," Nate says. He gestures to her, then Ava. "No one ever seems to get too far once they're family." Well, he's got a point. Ava hated them in the beginning, and now she's moved in. John, too. Maybe it's the ship, but Nora's pretty sure it's the people. She doesn't really want to leave them, either.

Nate looks away from Ray and Sara and swallows hard. Ava's handing Nora her drink, but Nate intercepts it, and tosses the whole thing back in one go. "Sorry," he says, and hands the next one to Nora, lets Ava refill his own. He stares at the liquid for a moment before bracing himself and looking up. "Keep an eye on him?" he asks. "He's not as indestructible as his suit."

She finishes swallowing her drink before she nods, then meets him halfway for a hug. Like she'd let anything happen to Ray; but they both know that, Nate just needs to say it. "Thanks for looking out until I got here," she says. "And then while I was here." The laugh Nate lets out is watery, but he nods all the same. "Ray's right, you do really know how to hug," she says. Her face is pressed to his chest, and she can hear his breath hitch. It's contagious, but they both do their best to pull it together when they see Sara step over toward the drinks. Ava's already handing it to her.

It's not that they're *watching* Nate say goodbye, but they're too busy drinking to find something else to focus on.

Except, it's short.  Nate says "Anytime, bro, anywhere," and Ray nods.

"Just call," he replies, and then they're hugging. Big, both armed hug.

Okay, *that's* not short.

Suddenly, she and Ava and Sara are fascinated by their drinks. Which is when Mona bursts into the room.

"Oh, thank god," Ava mummers while Sara starts pouring again.

"I promised Mick last week that we'd read this one next, he  was...excited about it," she says, foisting it on Ava and Nora.

"*MIck* was *excited*?" Ava asks for both of them.

"I let him have his joy, he helps me not go crazy and tear apart the ship and everyone on it when I get upset," Mona says. The "like this" remains unsaid, but the glance Mona throws Nora still feels like a very pointed, angry (almost--it's Mona, she can only be so harsh, even when upset) glare, and Nora winces a little.

"So glad you've got that handled," Sara says. She looks over Ava's shoulder to read the cover and her eyes light up. "It's got assassins!" she grins.

"Pretty sure they're the bad guys," Nora points out.

"Pretty sure you mean bad*asses*," Sara replies. She hands Mona and Ray their own drinks, and raises hers before Nora can counter.  "To family," she says. "My boomerang crew."

Nate's smiling softly, and so is Ray, so Nora drinks with them all before she asks. "Boomerang crew?"

"Boomerangs," Sara nods, serious but still smiling a little, satisfied she's asked. "They come back to you."

#legends of tomorrow #fic #my fic #darhkatom #nora darhk #ray palmer #nate heywood #mona wu #ava sharpe #mick and john and the tomazs siblings are there for like a second #book club #yes I DID make myself cry #we're calling this version 1.0 #there may be changes #goodbyes suck #thanks for taking the time to read!

[superiordragonlorde]

Don’t Forget Me

April 6: Sunset | Forget-Me-Not | Sunshine of Your Love by Cream

Here’s day 6 for @kiridekuweek2k19 . Hope you all enjoy!

     Eijirou sat on the edge of his bed, chewing on a nail as his mind ran in circles. It was three in the morning and sleep had eluded him like a bar of soap in the shower as he’d tossed and turned in the large bed. The left side, which he was sitting on, was warm and messy, with the sheets thrown aside haphazardly, while the opposite end was cold and untouched. The mere sight of it made a hole rip open in the middle of Eijirou’s chest.

     He stood, wincing at the creaking of mattress springs, and crept down the hallway. Peering into the living room, he could make out the dim silhouette of a body sleeping on the pull-out couch, curled under the blankets. A disembodied hand gripped Eijirou’s heart, digging its claws in deeper with every pained beat. He clenched his fist, nails biting into his palm.

     The world had turned itself upside-down when a villain, going by the name Wasuregusa, had attacked Izuku while he had been out on patrol with one of his sidekicks. As soon as Eijirou had received the call that his husband was in the hospital, he had raced over and tore the place apart in his search. When he’d finally found him, instead of relieved hugs and tender kisses, he had been met with wide, terrified green eyes, and a hesitant voice that had stuttered, “I-I’m sorry, but... I don’t know you.”

     Izuku’s sidekick, an anxious yet headstrong girl, had later relayed to Eijirou that while they were on patrol, the villain had tried to attack her. Izuku had shoved her aside and lured the villain away. When she had finally found him again, he’d been lying, unconscious in an alleyway, with a small, blue flower tucked behind his ear.

     Forget-me-not, it had later been clarified.

     About a week after, the villain had been apprehended, and Hitoshi had called Eijirou, asking to meet with him privately.

     “Look, I’m not going to beat around the bush,” he had started, his standard eyebags darker and heavier than usual. “This isn’t looking too good. Midoriya’s going to be fine. The quirk doesn’t affect him physically in any way, but according to past records and Wasuregusa, it does affect him mentally. Wasuregusa’s quirk causes a specific form of amnesia, so there’s going to be some... things Midoriya won’t be able to remember.”

     “Ok.” Eijirou had nodded, inhaling deeply to center himself as the news swirled around his brain like a hurricane. “Can he... Will his memories come back?”

     Hitoshi had slowly shaken his head, looking mournful. “None of the other victim’s have shown signs of their memories returning, and Wasuregusa said that he hasn’t had any luck either.”

     “What do you mean ‘he hasn’t had any luck’?” Eijirou had inquired cautiously.

     The underground hero had sighed and shrugged. “Apparently, he doesn’t have a lot of control over his quirk, so sometimes it gets out of hand. He’s accidentally used it before on family, friends, and romantic partners. I guess, after seeing its consequences so many times, he’s on an open-ended vengeance spree. Y’know, the whole ‘if I can’t have it, no one can’ mindset.”

     “Sure, but—” Eijirou had started, then swallowed before pushing on— “But what kind of memories is he taking away? What is Izuku not going to remember?”

     Hitoshi had fallen quiet and he’d fiddled with the trademark scarf wrapped around his neck and looked as though the weight of the world had been shoved onto his shoulders. With another deep, heavy sigh, he’d looked straight into Eijirou’s fearful, red gaze and had quietly said one word that had shattered his heart and world: “You.”

     Hitoshi had haltingly explained that Wasuregusa’s quirk made his victims forget about the people they were in love with, which had meant that Izuku would have absolutely no recollection of Eijirou. The very fact that he could be so easily taken out of his husband’s life made Eijirou want to curl under his bedcovers and never see the light of day again. Or run and scream until he’d reached the end of the world.

     Two-and-a-half months had gone by since the earth-shattering incident, and Izuku was still no closer to recovering his memories.

     Eijirou had tried everything he could think of to help stimulate any of his memories. He’d recreated their first date, took him to the place where they’d first kissed, reread his wedding vows, and when those didn’t work, showed him the videotape of their wedding. Izuku had only watched and listened with a distant, uncomfortable gaze and a slight downturn of his lips, even if he was smiling. So, Eijirou had tried with smaller, more trivial things, like cooking Izuku breakfast in the morning, making katsudon for dinner, and even buying him special hero memorabilia. Each loving action had been met with a bright, excited smile that was still dimmed with confusion, but it had given Eijirou hope. That was until he’d brought home a Red Riot hoodie.

     Izuku had held it up, brow furrowed in deep concentration. Eijirou had found his heart rising from its new residence in his stomach, soaring at the chance of Izuku finally getting his memories back.

     “Who’s this? I’ve never seen this hero before.”

     His heart had crashed to his feet like Icarus and his melting wings.

     Maybe things would have been easier if Eijirou had someone to turn to, someone who understood a small part of what he was going through, but he was alone, the only person erased from Izuku’s life. Every member of Class 1-A, even if they had only been a part of the group for a year, still had a place in Izuku’s memories, like pieces to a puzzle. Eijirou couldn’t help but think of himself as a small, insignificant corner piece. Sure the picture was incomplete, but it wasn’t blatantly obvious, like if a middle piece was taken out, like Katsuki, for example.

     Eijirou had tried so hard not to be jealous, but it was a herculean feat. Especially when Izuku was so close and happy around his friends, but politely distant with him, his own husband. He would pick up Ochako, pat Shouto’s arm, hug Tenya, hold Tsuyu’s hand, and playfully push Katsuki’s shoulder; all with a beaming, joyous smile that Eijirou would have sacrificed everything for just to have aimed at him one more time. He felt like he was a lone survivor in the desert, and Izuku’s soft, gentle touch was an oasis he would never be able to find.

     To make matters so much worse, he knew that it was only politeness and concern for another human being that made Izuku stay in the same apartment as Eijirou. Not to mention, Izuku’s friends had probably somehow managed to convince him to try and be with him, a person whom he had no memory of ever meeting, more or less marrying, and yet knew almost everything there was to know about him.

     Eijirou bit his bottom lip and watched Izuku’s chest rise and fall for a few more moments. He gripped the corner of the wall with all of his strength, fighting against the suffocating urge to lay in the open space behind him, wrap his arms around his waist, and bury his nose into the soft, curly hair. He shook his head hard enough he was sure he heard his brain rattle and headed back to the empty bedroom. His mind scrambled desperately for a single idea that could trigger the forgotten memories. One slowly started to form and Eijirou grabbed it tightly with both hands, watching it grow between his fingers with hesitant excitement. It was a long shot, especially when nothing else had worked, but, he decided, it was worth a try.

     Eijirou looked out over the pale sand and dark blue water of the beach with trepidation. Izuku stood beside him, rubbing his arm and looking at the vast space in mild confusion and caution. The space between them felt as though it could fit the entire ocean between them, despite the fact that they were close enough to reach out and hold hands.

     Eijirou settled on walking through the sand instead, picking out the perfect spot to lay out the blanket tucked under his arm. Izuku timidly sat beside him, knees curled to his chest and arms wrapped around them. Eijirou’s heart constricted at the submissive posture. His mind unwillingly flashed back to the stuttering, anxious high schooler he had first met in Class 1-A. It was like they were strangers again, but only one of them knew any different.

     “Do you remember this place?” he asked, head tilted as he watched Izuku with tentative hope.

      He nodded slowly, gaze darkened with foreboding, like a man about to be interrogated for the second time that day. “Y-yeah, I, um, I came here, a lot, when I was a kid.” To train with All Might, was left unsaid. Izuku had told him about his quirk after they had been engaged, with twitchy fingers and fearful eyes, like the truth would mean the end of their relationship. Eijirou had kissed him as deeply as he could and held him close to his chest, loving and adoring the new part of Izuku he had just discovered.

     “Did you ever come back as an adult?” he pushed, the hope flickering dangerously in his chest.

     Izuku cringed like he was waiting for a final blow as he rested his chin on his knees. A long, heavy sigh slipped out of him. “No.”

     The hope, with one last, staggering gasp, died, leaving a cold ember in its place. Eijirou held his head in his hands, his eyes growing hot and burning.

     He had proposed to Izuku three years ago on this beach after he’d gotten a very tearful blessing from Ms. Midoriya. Her son’s reaction had been fairly similar, except he’d dragged Eijirou up from his knees, without even using One for All, to capture his new fiance’s lips. It had been a day Eijirou had thought would be unforgettable.

     He hated how wrong he had been.

     “I’m sorry,” Izuku murmured, causing Eijirou to look up. “I just... I can’t remember. I know we’re married. I mean, it explains this—” He held up his left hand, the metal band on his ring finger reflecting the sun’s dying light— “And everyone tries to tell me stories about you. They really like you. I don’t think I’ve ever seen Kacchan care about someone so much in my life! Well, I mean... I think I’ve seen him like that before, but it’s... it’s kind of fuzzy.”

     Because I was there, Eijirou bitterly thought.

     “I know that I’m supposed to love you,” Izuku continued on, the words rolling out of his mouth like boulders down a cliff. “And that we’re supposed to be happy together, but I just...” He sucked in a shaky breath and turned to pin Eijirou down with watery green eyes. “I just don’t know you.”

     Eijirou sighed. “I know.”

     “I’m really sorry,” Izuku whispered.

     Eijirou shook his head. “This isn’t your fault, you don’t have anything you need to apologize for.”

     “Kacchan seems to think otherwise,” Izuku admitted, a dry smile stretching his lips crookedly. “He told me that if I hadn’t been a self-sacrificing idiot, none of this would have happened.”

     “You were trying to save your sidekick,” Eijirou argued, his mouth curling softly up. “And you always put other’s needs before your own, so that’s not really surprising. You’ve been like that since the day I met you, back when you punched that robot in the face, during entrance exam. You were trying to save Uraraka and— damn, that was the manliest thing I’d ever seen!”

     A bark of laughter burst from Izuku. “Sorry—” He shook his head, waving a hand to disperse the sharp laugh— “It just still surprises me how much you seem to know and care about... me.” He swallowed and looked down at his hands. His lips moved and Eijirou held his breath to catch the quiet words. “I’m sorry I can’t love you back. You obviously deserve it.”

     A dull numbness settled in Eijirou’s chest, like a cheap, knock-off brand of relief. “That’s ok.” A small part of him tried to stop the words coming out of his mouth, but they kept falling off his tongue. “I get it— Well, no, I... I guess I don’t get it. But, I know that you need to do whatever helps you. You give up so much of yourself for others, and that’s what makes you an amazing hero and friend.” He turned to face Izuku, forcing his mouth to morph into a comforting smile. “But, right now, you need to take care of you, and I’m just getting in the way of that by being a really crappy friend.

     “I’m... I’m going to be completely honest with you, Izuku. I—” He paused, taking in a shuddering breath as his vision blurred with tears— “I don’t want to lose you. I wanted to help you get your memories back so you wouldn’t forget about me, b-but that just— I made you do things you weren’t even comfortable with, and you went along with them, because you’re— Dammit, you’re so fucking amazing and manly and—” Izuku laughed wetly, covering his mouth with a scarred hand. “Wh-what?”

     “I’m so sorry,” he apologized. “Kaminari said that was a catchphrase of yours and I didn’t believe it until just now. This is the second time you’ve said it in less than five minutes.”

     Eijirou flushed and a wobbly grin stretched across his face. “Do you like it?” The question slipped out before he could catch it.

     Izuku’s smile tilted into something softer. “Yeah, I do. It... it makes me feel... I guess better? Stronger? I just... I don’t know, but I really like it.”

     Eijirou was sure a knife had been plunged and twisted into his chest. “Izuku,” he breathed, voice trembling. “I don’t want this to freak you out, but... I love you, and I know that I’ll never stop loving you—” He reached down and grabbed Izuku’s hand— “ But I think, the best thing I can do for you right now is to step back and let you go.” He took the ring and slid it off with gentle fingers. It sat heavily in his hand like his entire world rested within it.

     “I-if you want to,” he started, failing to keep his words steady and calm. “I’d... I’d really like to become friends, with you.” He glanced up to find Izuku staring at the ring in his hand, tears dripping down his face. Eijirou’s quickly brushed them away before he could second guess himself. “H-hey, hey, it’s ok—”

     “Sorry, sorry,” Izuku sniffled, wiping his eyes. “I-I— I don’t know why I’m crying. I mean, I don’t even remember you giving me that, but...” His gaze sank back down to the ring. “I feel like I just gave up something really important, and... now I’ll never get it back.”

     A twisted, painful smile pulled at Eijirou’s mouth. “You don’t have to worry about getting this back,” he swore. “I’m going to keep loving you, Izuku. This—” he held up the ring— “Is always going to be yours, even if you decide you don’t want it.

     “I-I’m not going to lie, I want things to go back to the way they were, when we were married and happy together, but I would still be the happiest and luckiest man in the world if you and I were still able to be friends. Do— do you want to be?”

     Izuku’s gaze flickered up to his and a soft, trembling smile lifted the corners of his lips. “Y-yeah, I’d... I’d like that, too. You’re a really cool guy, Kirishima. And very manly.” He giggled and Eijirou would have kissed him if things had been like what they once were. He would have kissed him, trailed his fingers through his green curls, stroked his freckled cheeks, and told him how beautiful he looked with the sunset’s rays caressing his face.

     But he didn’t. Instead, he took a lesson he’d learned from Izuku when they were still in high school together. He gave the love of his life the biggest, brightest smile he could muster, even as his heart withered with an agonized cry.

     Their silence was both companionable and foreign. If Eijirou let himself imagine the past two-and-a-half months had never happened, it would be almost like the evening they’d strolled together down the beach, a ring sitting lightly in his pocket as a promise for a wonderful future. But Izuku was too quiet, too fidgety, and too uncomfortable for it to be the same.

     With jerky awkwardness, Izuku lightly patted Eijirou’s hand and stood. Eijirou scrambled up with him, feeling the end of a soothing lie looming over him. As soon as Izuku was gone, reality would come crashing around him, and Eijirou wasn’t sure if he could survive it.

     “Well, I, um—” Izuku rocked on his feet, rubbing his arm again. “I guess, since we’re not really together anymore, I should stay here with my mom for the night.”

     “We can still head back and call one of your friends along the way. I’m sure none of them would mind,” Eijirou offered, selfishly wishing for one last moment together with Izuku on the train ride back.

     Izuku shook his head. “That’s ok, it’s getting late and I don’t want to bother any of them. Besides, it’s been a while since I’ve last visited my mom, so, I think this will be a nice surprise for her.”

     It was an obvious excuse, and Eijirou felt a crushing weight slam down onto his already fragile heart. He nodded, forcing himself to stay true to his promise of letting Izuku go. “Ok, sure. I get that. Um, you have my number, so, if you ever want to hang out, just... y’know.”

     Izuku huffed a soft chuckle. “Right.” He took a step back then hesitated, biting his bottom lip. “Hey, um, do you— do you mind texting me when you get home? Just so I, um, I know you got there safely?”

     Eijirou’s wounded heart warmed despite the suffocating pressure crushing it to dust. His smile curled into something more genuine. “I will. Don’t worry.”

     Izuku nodded, relief followed by mild confusion flashed across his eyes before he blinked and they disappeared. He took another step back, pointing his thumb in the general direction of his childhood home. “I-I guess I better, um, go... before it gets too late.”

     “Yeah.” Eijirou smothered the longing that tried to slip into his voice. “That’s, uh, that’s a good idea. I, um, I’ll see you around?”

     Izuku’s smile was a soft blanket that Eijirou’s heart quickly snatched and huddled underneath, savoring its warmth. “Yeah, I’ll see you later.” He took another step back and raised a hesitant hand to wave. “Bye, Kirishima.” He spun on his heel and hurriedly strode through the sand.

     Eijirou watched his receding back, calling out a soft “bye” in return. He hoped it wasn’t a final farewell, but he couldn’t shake off the feeling that there was something that would forever be missing from his life. As soon as Izuku disappeared from sight, he looked back down at his palm where the ring still innocently sat, heavy, cold, and empty. He closed his fingers around it, tight enough to leave an imprint in his flesh, and collapsed onto the blanket, clutching his last piece of the past to his chest.

#kiridekuweek2k19 #kirideku #bnha #boku no hero academia #eijirou kirishima #izuku midoriya #hitoshi shinsou #my fic #my writing

[amanda-teaches]

What Hurts the Most

Summary: You try to come to grips with an unimaginable loss.

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Word Count: 2283

Warnings: Angst, Character Death, Regret, Loss.

A/N: Well, the angst happened, y’all, and I want to go ahead and apologize now for it. This one was inspired by the song What Hurts the Most by Rascal Flatts, and specifically the music video for that song. There is not a lot of happiness here, so seriously heed the warnings. It’s a rough one. Thanks to @because-imma-lady-assface and @rideandwritethings for encouraging me to go outside of my fluff comfort zone and actually write this. I’m sorry....

As you took that first, tentative step into Dean’s bedroom, you took a deep breath, because it was taking everything you had in you not to completely and utterly break down.

Weeks. It had taken you weeks for you to build up the courage to enter his room again, but, even now, you weren’t sure you could actually go through with it. Closing your eyes to hold in the hot, wet tears that threatened to overflow, you took another shaky step forward, willing yourself to be as strong as Dean, to find a way through this, but, when you neared the bed, his bed, and saw what was waiting there, you had to stop.

Lying there, in the middle, slightly crumpled, like he’d just stripped it off, was one of Dean’s favorite flannels. You reached down and carefully picked it up, your hands shaking as they gripped the familiar material. Letting out a strangled sob, you brought it to your nose, breathing in his scent, as your mind flashed back to the last time he wore it.

“Dean, wait!” you laughed as the man pulled you along, one of his long strides taking up three of yours. “Will you just slow down for a second?”

“No can do, Y/N,” he responded without even looking back. You could hear the smile in his voice, however, and it made you glower even more as you raced to keep up with him. “Why don’t you speed up?”

“Why don’t you bite me?” you whispered under your breath, earning a laugh from Dean as he finally slowed, allowing you to catch your breath. “Thank God,” you muttered, leaning over and placing both your hands on your knees. “What in the world is so time sensitive anyway, Dean? You usually only move this fast when we’re hunting. Why all the cloak and dagger secrecy?”

He turned to you and grinned. “You’ll see. Now, come on,” he exclaimed before grabbing your hand and pulling you along again, nearly yanking your arm out of your socket.

“Oh my God, you’re insane,” you gasped as you once again raced to keep up with him, dodging tree branches along the way. You were moving slightly uphill through the forest outside the bunker, going further than you’d ever explored before, but Dean certainly seemed to know where he was going. He was moving along with a determined focus, having been going non stop since he dragged you out of your warm bed nearly an hour ago.

The two of you moved steadily for about another half hour, and just when you were sure you couldn’t take another step, he burst past the last tree line, out into an open field, stopping so suddenly that you ran right into his hard, strong back.

“Ouch,” you grumbled, reaching up and rubbing your nose. “Give a girl a little warning next time, you big jerk. Jeez….”

Dean ignored your complaining and stepped forward, turning back towards you with a giant smile on his face. “Well?” he exclaimed, holding out his arms. “What do you think?”

You took a second to look around at your surroundings, trying to see what Dean saw. You were tired and grumpy, but, even so, you had to admit that the sight that greeted you was absolutely stunning.

You were standing in a large, empty field, it’s overgrown grass sprinkled with wildflowers as far as the eye could see. The sunlight seemed to make the entire landscape sparkle and shine as a gentle breeze swayed the grass around your feet. It was gorgeous, but, despite the beauty, you were still confused. There was nothing here, no buildings, no people. What exactly was Dean showing you?

“I don’t get it,” you answered, your eyes once again meeting Dean’s. “What exactly am I looking at?”

“This!” he shouted, spinning in a circle with his arms wide, his excitement practically overflowing. “What do you think?” he repeated again.

“It’s beautiful,” you answered honestly, a smile appearing on your face as your exhaustion began to fade with each touch of the gentle breeze on you cheek. “But, why are we here?”

Dean’s eyes softened and he took your hand in his, pulling you with him, softly this time, lazily. “Did you know that when I was little, I wanted to be a fireman?”

You balked at that answer, unsure of what it had to do with why Dean had dragged you all the way out here. “No, I didn’t, but I don’t understand what that has to do with…”

“Before my mom died,” Dean said softly, making you fall quiet, “I used to dream of it, of being a hero, of running into fires, of saving people. But, when she….when she was gone, everything changed. After that night, all fire did was give me nightmares. For months, every time I closed my eyes, I saw that fire, I saw my mom, and….all I could think about was how I couldn’t save her.”

You released your breath with a small sigh. “Dean, you were too young, you can’t think…”

He shook his head, stopping you. “I held onto that for a long time, years even, and whenever my dad was away on a hunt, no matter what, I’d always find some time to sneak out to the fire station of whatever crap town we were staying in and just watch them, the firefighters, I mean. I’d watch them and wonder what my life would have been like if she hadn’t died, if we’d had a chance to just be a normal family, you know? Would I have been a firefighter like them? A hero like them?”

You reached up and placed your fingers on his cheek, softly turning his head so he’d look at you, your heart falling at the tears you saw in his eyes. “Dean, you are a hero.”

He smiled softly. “I know that. Now. But, when I was just an angry, lost kid, it was what I held onto, that dream. I pictured our life, our family. I imagined growing up in a stable, loving home, with both my mom and my dad. They’d both be so proud when I put on that firefighter’s uniform for the first time, and, Sammy, Sammy’d be some big-shot lawyer or something, and we’d be happy, really, truly, happy. I’d find a good girl to marry, settle down in a nice big, farmhouse with a couple of kids, and the whole family would come together every Sunday for dinner, no matter what.” He paused. “When I imagined it, I thought it was the perfect life, but I knew it was one that I’d never get to have.”

He hesitated for a moment, gathering himself, and you let him, standing quietly, gently rubbing soft circles over his hand with your thumb. “After a while, I finally accepted that hunting, that was my life, my destiny, and, I was content, happy even, with Sammy and our life, or at least I thought I was.” He took a deep breath. “But, no matter how happy I got, it was never really enough to fill that place in my heart, that part of me that still yearned for that fantasy I’d dreamt up as a child.” He broke off and looked straight at you again, the emotion in his gaze taking your breath away. “Until I met you.”

You gasped softly. “Dean…I….”

You trailed off as he released your hand and stepped forward slowly, quietly staring out across the field, taking in the beauty surrounding you. “I found this place by accident one day, but the moment I saw it, I knew.” He turned back to you and stepped closer, taking both your hands in his. “Y/N, someday, I’m going to leave it all behind, the hunting, the monsters, the demons, all of it. I mean, I’m sure I won’t be able to leave the life entirely, no one can do that, but I want to step aside, let someone else take over the fight, and enjoy whatever time I have left.” He grinned, cradling your hands against his chest. “Time with you.”

You shook your head, suddenly overwhelmed by the magnitude of everything he was saying. “Dean, I don’t understand…”

“I want to build a house right here, Y/N, right here in this field. I want to have that life that I dreamt about: that farmhouse, the kids, the whole nine. I mean, obviously, there’ll be a little extra warding then I originally pictured, but I want it all, with you.”

“Me?” you whispered, unwillingly to believe this was really happening.

“Yeah, Y/N, you.” Dean smiled again, so bright it was blinding. “I love you, Y/N. I love you so damn much, and I want to spend the rest of my life with you, I want to settle down with you. When I see my future, I don’t see death and pain, I see happiness. I see you.” He stopped and took a deep breath. “My only question is, what do you see?”

You hadn’t answered Dean that day, telling him that this was all too much, that you needed time, time to sort everything out. You’d headed back to the bunker, alone, as Dean and Sam left on a hunt, and you’d sat down to gather your thoughts. Not surprisingly, it had only taken a few hours for you to wise up and realize where your heart lied, and, when you finally decided that your future was with Dean, hunting or not, you’d been so excited for him to get back so you could tell him.

But, you never got the chance.

“Dean?!” you yelled, racing to the garage in just a flannel and a pair of sleep shorts, too excited by the sound of the Impala to even bother putting on real clothes. “You’re home!” But, instead of seeing Dean getting out of the car, you were shocked to find Sam closing the driver’s side door, looking like he’d just been through a war. “Sam?! What, what happened?” You looked around for a second before you realized Dean was missing. “Where’s Dean?”

Tears started to fall down Sam’s face, striking fear into your heart before he even had a chance to get the words out. “They...they were waiting for us, Y/N. We didn’t even see the coming. Dean, he….they were too fast. I couldn’t….I couldn’t save him, Y/N.”

“No…” you breathed, disbelief screaming out in your head. He couldn’t be gone, he just couldn’t. “No, Sam. He’s fine, I know he is. Where is he?”

Sam took a deep breath, the tears falling steadily now as he reached for you. “Y/N….”

“NO!” you screamed, leaping back, out of reach. “Where is he, Sam? I want to see him. I want to see Dean. Now.”

Sam closed his eyes and dropped his head, slowly pointing back towards the car. You raced past him and ripped open the back door, a soul-wrenching cry escaping your lips as you saw the man you loved lying there, unmoving. Dropping to your knees, you wrapped your arms around your waist, screaming his name with every ounce of strength you had in your body. You felt Sam come up behind you and take you into his arms, but you fought against him, refusing to accept the truth staring back at you. “No, Sam, no! He can’t be gone! He can’t!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

Sam whispered soothing words in your ear and held you tightly as you continued to struggle, railing against him and God and everything in between. But, when the anger finally left you out and you stilled, he did the only thing he could do in that moment: he just held you as you cried, gently rocking you back and forth, as the tears continued to fall...

You closed your eyes and released your hold on Dean’s flannel, letting it fall gently to the floor as the memories overtook you. Turning, you raced out of the room and sped down the hallway, past Sam and Cas, who were calling your name, and right out the front door.

Turning, tears blurred your vision, but you didn’t care as you ran as fast as you could into the night. You didn’t know where you were going, only that you had to get away, away from the memories, away from the pain, just away.

You ran until you couldn’t run anymore, and when you finally stopped and looked around to see where you’d ended up, you let out a cry and dropped to your knees.

You were here, in the same field Dean had taken you to, the same field where he’d professed his love for you, promised a future with you, a future that you’d never get to have. You broke down again, even harder this time, the tears falling so fast that you could taste the salt on your lips.

“Why????” you screamed into the night, your face turned up towards the sky. “Why did you have to leave me, Dean?! Why??????? How am I supposed to go on without you, how am I supposed to…..”

Your breath caught and you let the tears rack your body, closing your eyes as your head fell, your hand coming to rest on your stomach, holding onto the slight bump that had started to form there, the only link you had left to the man you loved. To Dean. “I never even got to tell you...” you whispered, your voice getting carried away by that same gentle breeze that had once calmed you. “When I thought of the future, Dean, I saw you. I saw you.”

Forevers- @hamartiamacguffin @mrsdeanfuckingwinchester @katymacsupernatural @impandagrl @cyrilconnelly @impala-dreamer @castielhasthetardis @jarpadandjensenaremyheroes @shotgunintheimpala @be-amaziing @jalove-wecallhimdean @there-must-be-a-lock @mysterious-398 @hannahindie @emoryhemsworth @ohmychuckitssamanddean @wi-deangirl77 @carryonmywaywardcaptain @ericaprice2008 @masksandtruths @jpadjackles @roxyspearing @squirrel-moose-winchester @sweetpeamoose @babypieandwhiskey @deans-dirty-writer @roxy-davenport @heyitscam99 @starry-chaos

Dean Tags- @akshi8278 @whimsicalrobots

#dean x reader #angst #dean angst #character death #tw: character death #tw: angst