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lis-likes-fics · 2 years

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The Crowned Jewel | Chapter 12

Y/N sat in her room, reading through the journal once again as she ran a hand through her hair. It had been a couple of days since she had seen Elijah, and had doubled down on the journal to try to learn more. There was something in here, there had to be.

As she flipped through the book, scanning the pages and reading into some things a little too much, she paused at a specific page that read a word she had been waiting to show since she opened the first page.

Salvatore.

That was important, but would it be enough?

Throughout the next few pages, the topic shifted. Jocelyn began to write about her affair with Giuseppe Salvatore. She first described it as a release from the constant dread of living in that mansion of a house. The words lifted and almost seemed...happy. But happy was not the right word to use.

He kept her satisfied.

He would treat her to secret dinners, invite her to his place for...certain rendezvous'. She described him as charming, kind to a point, and, ultimately, a smooth-talker. But the charm did not last, as it seemed with the Savatores. Mentions of her unborn child began to rise, an entry about her fear of finding out and her lies to Richard about the father.

Again, the entries took a turn. Things became vague, almost as if the words were encoded. She kept talking about "Hotcakes", as if it was some devious thing that would only result in horror.

Maybe it would.

As Y/N turned the next page, she paused when she found it had been ripped from the book... quite a few pages had been ripped from the book. She shook her head, glancing over the following ones to see if the story continued there, but the words said only one thing... a sample of a note. The one she had left on the night she died.

It stated simply that she was a depressed woman with a loving family that did the best they could. It said that there was no cure for what she had, and that she was tired of being incurable. She said it was "what is best for everyone", and that worse would happen with her there; a guilt, a crime no man would be punished for. It ended simply saying that she loved her family, and she loved her daughter, that she was sorry for her "inevitable departure".

Y/N had read it many, many times when she was younger. It had become almost like a bible to her. She knew it top to bottom, inside and out, and forwards and back... but something had always felt off about it. She had stopped reading it years ago, the endless cycle of reminding herself of her mother's death.

During her time away from it, she had forgotten how much of a poet her mother had been. She always had a unique way of twisting words to suit her audience. In the note, she twisted them so she was the guilty and Richard and her daughter were the innocent. It always angered Y/N to know that part about her note was a lie, that she made her abuser a hero. But she knew why, of course she did. Jocelyn's self-proclaimed job, before anything else, had always been to protect her daughter. She would do anything to ensure she was safe, and if she felt that was the way to do it, then she would do it that way. And she did.

Y/N reached the end of the memorized letter, which had been altered, written differently as if it had only been meant for one other pair of eyes. Y/N's eyes. At the end of the note read: That is the truth, and it always has been the truth people will know. To tell a lie would be in vain of everything I have worked hard to protect. Sometimes what is true at its basic core needs to be locked away, because the center of truth is sometimes too dark and too guilty for the world we live.

Y/N read through the ending again, setting the book down as she looked at the underlined word on the page. Her brows furrowed, a crease forming between them as she thought. It was some sort of riddle, some play on words to give her the key to figuring out the torn pages. They were there for a reason or, rather, they were absent for a reason. Maybe there was a literal key.

If anyone had it, it would be the same person who has every key in the house and more.

Vincent returned from the Grand mansion before dinner. It was only after they ate that Y/N finally asked him about the potential key.

"Hey, I need to ask you something," she started out slowly, turning to face him in some form of confidentiality.

He leaned against the counter, his arms folded over his chest as he gestured for her. "Ask away," he prompted.

She nodded, "I've been reading the journal and there were a few pages missing, but I reached the end of it. At first I thought it was just her note, but at the end, it says something about a lock. Do you think she might've had a key she left behind?"

Vincent thought for a moment, trying to think of anything that may have matched up to what she had brought up. Then he paused and looked back at Y/N, he licked his lip as he nodded. "I think she might've... I'll be right back."

He disappeared down the hall to his room. She did not have to wait long before he returned, his hand balled around something as he came back. He stopped in front of her and opened his hand, a necklace falling out of it and coming to an abrupt stop as the chain wrapped around his finger.

"Jocelyn gave this to Eva as a gift. She said it never went to anything, but Jocelyn could lie on paper, not through speech," he said, handing the key over to her.

It was a small, silver skeleton key with the handle designed as the face of a fox. It had been kept in good condition by Eva over the years, and it was too fancy to be a cheap store-bought item. Upon closer inspection, she realized she had seen that key and the fox head on it before.

"I know what this goes to," she said. "She had a box in her room that had this fox on it. She kept it in her closet."

Vincent nodded as he held his hand out for the key again, "I'll get it tomorrow."

She shook her head quickly, concern in her eyes as she told him, "No, let me. I don't want to drag you into this more than you already are. If this goes wrong, I'd never forgive myself if something happened to you."

"What would happen to me?" he questioned, licking his bottom lip. "Is there something going on that I should know about?"

Again, she shook her head, refusing to tell him too much and get him into trouble. "Not right now...but my mother hid something, and I need to be the one to find out what." By the way she wrote the ending, by the way that diary came to such an abrupt stop, there was something dark hiding from her that she could not risk anyone else uncovering.

Vincent thought for a while, glancing around himself as he wondered whether or not Y/N was right. In the end, he let out a reluctant sigh, running a hand down his face. "Alright," he said. "But if something happens, you tell me. I am not losing another Grand, especially not you."

She nodded, a smile reaching her face as she looked at Vincent. "Deal," she said, moving to hug him. He shook his head, mumbling something about Grand women before letting her go. "Go to bed. I know you're tired," he told her, gently shoving her in the direction of the hall. She held the necklace close to her and nodded as she wished him a good night, retiring to bed.

The next day was when she risked another call to Elijah, trying to tell him all she could about what she found out. "I'm going back to the house tonight."

"Why tonight? Why don't you go now while he's gone?" he asked, once again worrying over her.

She shook his head, "He's home today, and I don't want to face him. I would go tomorrow, but I have to work all day, and I've called too many outs this month. He'll still be out or asleep by the time I get there."

He sighed, a hesitant silence as he thought to himself. "Do you need me to come with you?" he asked carefully, slowly.

She pulled her bottom lip between her teeth and sighed as she closed her eyes. "That would be amazing... but I can't. I have to do this on my own."

"You don't have to do anything alone anymore, my darling," he reminded her.

"This, I do," she replied. "But I promise I'll call you if something happens. I promise." He finally, although reluctantly, agreed to her words. They talked for a little while longer before she had to hang up.

When nightfall came, she anxiously waited for midnight to provide her cover before she left in the dark. As she pulled up to the mansion, her heart was pounding in her chest. The air was too still.

As she looked in the driveway, she saw that her father's car was parked there, but the lights in the house were still on. She placed a hand over her belly, taking a deep breath before taking her first steps. She reached her hand further to grasp the necklace around her neck, making sure the key was still in its place.

She silently turned the doorknob, which was always left unlocked by her father. She was always the one to lock the door at night because he never got into the habit of it. He always said that no one would dare touch him, but she had other ideas.

She walked into the house, her footsteps as silent as physically possible as the dark halls loomed over her. Her eyes watched everything, waiting for something to pop out and frighten her. She gripped the railing to the stairs, walking up the steps cautiously.

When she reached the top, she saw light emanating from her father's office with the door wide open. She held her breath as she carefully moved to walk past it, peeking in to see his back mostly turned to the door. On his desk, she saw a large bottle of bourbon that was practically empty. It was the Salvatores' brand, she could tell by the label on the bottle.

By the way he hunched over his desk with a glass clenched in his hand, she knew he was drunk. A drunk Richard was not a nice Richard.

As she tiptoed past the office, she stayed as quiet as she could possibly manage. But that did not seem to be enough. She was just down the hall when the house phone echoed off the walls. She stilled when she heard Richard groan and stand to his feet.

She rushed to the next set of stairs, trying to keep her steps light and quick. It was all in vain, though, because Richard stepped out of his office and lifted his gaze to the fleeing figure in front of him.

"Y/N!" he yelled, his voice loud from the effects of the alcohol. Fear and panic fueled her then as she sprinted up the stairs, running from her father, who came rushing after her. He screamed warnings and curses at her, trying to urge her to stop running. His words slurred together, his voice rougher from the drinking. There was one moment where the bottle he had been drinking from came flying past her head, shattering against a wall and sending tiny shards scraping against her skin, some small pieces piercing her.

She reached for the key in her pocket given to her by Vincent to get into her mother's locked bedroom. Richard was at the top of the stairs when she got to the door, sticking the key in the lock as fast as possible.

"Y/N, get the fuck over here!" he shouted after her. She turned the key and forced the door open, screaming when he grabbed a hold of her arm in a bruising grip. "What do you think you're doing, huh? Where are you going?" He pulled her close to his face. She could smell his breath as it fanned over her face.

In a burst of adrenaline and fear, she raised her leg and kneed him in the crotch. He let go and bent forward in pain, shouts and groans coming from him that she ignored.

She got inside of the room, slamming the door shut and locking it before rushing to block it with the large dresser lined against one of the walls. "Y/N!" He shouted through the door.

She kept pushing stuff in front of the door, her body moving faster than her mind, which was preoccupied with the panic and stress to catch up. She moved to the farthest wall from the door, crouching against it and covering her head with her hands. Her nails practically dug into her scalp as she tried to offer herself protection.

He kept shouting, beating on the door as he tried to burst through. Curses and swears and threats rang through the halls of the house, echoing off of the walls in the most terrifying way. Her mind was slowly catching up, which was not a good thing. Before she knew it, she was overwhelmed with a flurry of emotions as her panic turned into an attack. She was sobbing, rocking back and forth like a child as she tried to curl into a ball and disappear or sink through the floor.

For what felt like hours, but was only half of one, he did not give up. He was still pounding on the door, attempting to beat it down to reach her. His voice was all of a sudden too calm as the beating stopped abruptly. He sounded sorrowful, regretful, as he spoke to her through the door and her barricades.

"Come on, sweetheart. I'm sorry... Please open the door," he was out of breath. She lifted her head from her arms, still rocking herself in an attempt to keep herself calm. "Y/N, I don't want to hurt you. I wasn't trying to. I'm sorry, please come out."

She shook her head, muttering to herself about his lies and manipulation. Her tears did not slow, nor did her heart. The air was filled with a thick tension, remnants of fears still circulating through it like the world itself was scared for her.

"Hey, I know you're scared. I know you are, but it's okay. You don't need to be scared. It's me, it's Daddy. You can trust me, I'll protect you. I love you," he tried, she could hear his hand stroking the wood of the door.

She could hear the impatience in his voice when he continued. "Hey. Please open the door, princess. Everything's okay." She shook her head again, her murmurs a little louder as a "no" loud enough for his ears accidentally escaped her lips.

"Y/N, open the fucking door!" he suddenly shouted, once again pounding away on the wood, as if it would splinter and give up against his abuse just because it was him, like it would give way for him to hurt her. "I own you!"

The sobs returned, ripping from her chest. Her body was shaking and her head was killing her. For a long time, too long, she sat there and sobbed.

It was late before she finally settled and realized that he had given up. She was still coming back to herself before she finally stood to her feet, her legs were shaking as they tried to support her. She reached her hands to her arms where she saw some pebbles of glass in her skin, a couple of other shards a little bigger and sticking out. She whimpered slightly as the realization of the small injuries reached her brain and pain began to sting at them.

She carefully removed the glass from her skin as she whimpered. Some wounds bled, but most were too shallow. She was just happy she had not had a giant shard wedged into her.

She managed to reach the closet, sliding the door open to see inside. Her clothes were hanging neatly on their hangers, although some had fallen to the floor and been discarded since. Her shoes lined up against the wall and there was a clear space for a mirror that hung neatly against the wall.

She stood on her toes to look at the shelf, her hands reaching, searching for the box she knew was kept somewhere in there. When she did not feel anything other than stowed away clothes, she grabbed something to stand on so she could see better. As she looked now, she spotted the dark, wooden box pushed against the far wall, shielded by a stack of clothes to keep it hidden.

Y/N grabbed the box carefully in her hands and stepped off of the chair she had grabbed. She grabbed the key around her neck and, with shaking hands, put it inside of the lock. When she turned it, the box clicked open and she sighed. She opened the box slowly and saw a neat and organized set of items inside. There was a voice recorder and tiny bag with two light pink pills on top of neatly folded papers.

She closed the box quickly with a sharp snap and held it to her chest, hearing a tiny click as the box locked again. She was too scared to try to leave the room through the door. There was no way that was a smart idea, nor would it end well as a result. Her only other option was through the window...to drop down from the third floor.

Not a great idea either.

But safer than trying the door.

She walked over to the window and opened it, removing the screen so she could stick her head out of the window. She shook her head as she saw the heights she was facing and returned inside of the room, pacing for a moment to try to think of a better option.

Y/N pulled her phone from her pocket to contact Elijah, listening to the phone ring once...twice...thr-

"Y/N, are you alright?" Elijah's voice picked up quickly.

She could already feel her body calming enough to stop shaking as she let out a sigh. His constant concern for her was reassuring in ways she did not know worry could be reassuring. "It...It didn't go as planned, but I've got it," her voice was quiet as she spoke, afraid to break too much silence to rile Richard up again, "I'm stuck in my mother's room. I had to trap myself inside and my only option is out the window."

He sighed, "Please tell me you do not intend to jump out of the window."

She bit her lip, glancing back at the opening. "Would you feel better if I didn't say jump?"

"Why did you call me to say this?" he wondered, not in a rude way but in a curious way to try and make sense of her thought process.

"You want the truth?" she asked, still staring at the window.

"Of course."

"I wanted to hear your voice... I needed to hear your voice."

He let out a deep sigh, "I'm coming to get you."

Panic returned.

"No! No, don't, please. I can handle this. It won't be the first time I've climbed out of this house through a window, trust me," she told him.

"It would be the first time you've done it pregnant," he pointed out. She bit her lip but remained silent. "I'll be there soon. Don't do anything. I love you."

She nodded, "I love you, too." The phone call ended, and she returned her phone to her pocket. She let out a long breath before approaching the window, sticking her head out of it once again to see the long stretch of sky that was still slightly darkened by the night of the early morning.

Y/N shook her head and took in another breath before finding a bag to put the box in. She stepped out onto the ledge outside of the window, her feet finding their bearings before she stepped fully outside. She held on tightly to whatever she could get a good grip on, her heart racing a million miles a minute as she avoided looking down as much as possible.

She turned around on the part of the roof that overshadowed the room below her mother's. As she looked out, her legs became wobbly and she flattened against the wall again. She closed her eyes again and took another moment to breathe before she began shuffling to the side. She was able to grab a hold of a ledge and lower herself down enough to land safely on a ledge on the second floor.

She did this again for the first and reached the ground with minimal amounts of scrapes from stray wood or metal. As she landed safely on the ground, she bent down to catch her breath. It was then that she saw the familiar model of Elijah's car pulling up to the house. She was able to get him to stop before he reached the driveway, his lights off to keep from alarming Richard—if he was still conscious.

As she approached his car, he opened the door and got out to meet her. He met her in a tight hug as he chastised her, "What did I say? Don't do anything, and that is exactly what you did."

She smiled, pulling him closer to calm herself down. "Are you hurt?" he asked gently. She did a quick mental inventory on herself, trying to answer that question to the best of her ability. That was when some of her pain actually began to kick in. It was mostly just stinging from the scrapes she collected during her time in that house, but the worst thing she felt was the bruising of her wrist from where Richard had grabbed her. The scrapes did not hurt anymore.

"I'm fine," she said, a half lie as she smiled weakly at him. She pulled away to take a look at him, sighing as the majority of her tension left her body. Elijah was taking this time to look her over for any injuries, noting her injuries before taking in the bruise on her arm. He clenched his jaw and gritted his teeth, his eyes hardening as he shook his head. "This is vile," anger seethed in his tone.

Her face fell as she tried to pull her arm from his hold, but he kept her firmly in place without hurting her. "I'm fine, Elijah. Really, I am." Again he shook his head before his eyes met hers. He softened, a sadness that she had seen on his face many times now taking over.

To distract him, she grabbed the bag hanging by her side and pulled it up for him to see. "I got it," she said. "I haven't properly looked inside, but I think it's going to uncover a lot." He nodded absently and sighed, his eyes still gazing into her own with that sad glint. He lifted her chin up and kissed her. There was a feeling in this kiss that was overwhelmed by something strong, making her breathless in a matter of seconds.

"We're going to go back to my place, and you're going to tell me everything that happened tonight. Alright?" he said quietly. She nodded to him, promising with a weak smile. She only parted from him after another kiss before getting into her car to follow him to his own home.

#elijah mikaelson #elijah mikaelson x reader #elijah mikaelson x y/n #elijah mikaelson x you #the vampire diaries fanfic #the vampire diaries fanfiction #the vampire diaries #the originals #the originals fanfic #the originals fanfiction #reader insert #female reader #fanfic #human au #fanfiction #tvd fanfic #tvd fanfiction #tvd fandom

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silverhallow · 2 years

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first line meme (published fics edition)first line meme (published fics edition)

Rules: List the first lines of your last 20 published stories. (If you have less than 20, just list them all!) See if there are any patterns. Choose your favourite opening line. Tag some people to play the next round!

1.September had been throwing some wild weather their way, thought Kate, and today was no exception. (A Stormy yet Perfect Birthday - Kanthony)

2. Sophie needed to talk to Kate, desperately. (Her Best Friend’s Brother in Law - Benophie)

3. Benedict has been extremely stressed out at his job. (Following Instructions -Benophie)

4. Since their return to London after their Honeymoon the newlyweds had been kept busy, Sophie had been helping Kate with Miles and Edmund and learning how to run a household, Benedict had been writing to solicitor’s, setting up accounts and letters had been going back and forth to Wiltshire to make sure things were ready for them upon their return. (High Tea - Benophie)

5. Benedict Bridgerton had never thought himself a jealous man, but over the last few days, he was starting to think that perhaps he was wrong. (Green-eyed Monster - Benophie)

6. Sophie Beckett understood the definitions of unfair and difficult before she even turned 11. (Time After Time - Benophie)

7. It was the first anniversary for Anthony and Kate, Benedict and Sophie and the entire family had gathered for a big party and the annual rematch that Kate had declared that they should do and host at Aubrey Hall and since it coincided with the pair of couples Anniversaries the family had agreed. (Rematches and Revelations - Kanthony and Benophie AMD AU)

8. Valentine's is by far the busiest time of year at the modest flower shop and Eloise had agreed to help him out as he was busy with the twins today and it was leading up to the big event of love, hundreds of men and women passed through those doors to purchase the perfect selections of flowers and plants for their loved ones. (Flowery Seductions - Philoise)

9. Sophie had been busy that morning, she and Benedict had come to London for a week so Benedict could get some meetings done with Henry and John Constable to get things set and ready for his exhibition in a few weeks. (Mistakes and Missing Braincells - Sophie & Anthony)

10. Inspiration came in the form of many things and over recent years Benedict Bridgerton had found that inspiration in the form of his wife (A Lack of Inspiration - Benophie)

11. It was strange, Sophie thought as she sat on the floor of the bedroom in Aubrey Hall, she hadn’t thought about her father in so very long and yet over the last 4 days, she had done not a lot else but think about him in her time between fittings, between the shouting and screaming of the Bridgerton’s around her (Pre wedding reflections Sophie & Richard Gunningworth/ Benophie)

12. Benedict wanted to do something nice for Sophie, she had been having trouble sleeping and with Charlie teething and their current unborn child currently using her insides as a punching bag, he knew his wife was downright miserable but she had such a sunny disposition that she wouldn’t complain about it but he saw the way her face flinched every time their new child kicked her insides. (Benedict vs The Stove- Benophie)

13.Andrew Rokesby hadn’t worn his uniform in some time but when Billie informed him that they were hosting a joint summer party with the Bridgerton’s that year and the King and Queen were due to attend he dug his blues out and wore them for the first time since his wedding with pride. (Sophie and the Captain - Summer 1803 - Sophie & Andrew Rokesby - AMD AU)

14. Edmund knew letting Colin travel at 18 was a stupid idea but the boy had been desperate and Andrew has said he had a friend who was heading over to Greece and who would look after him (A Trip to Forget - Benedict & Edmund & Colin & Anthony AMD AU)

15. Sophie beamed as her father said she could go play with the other children. (When Benedict met Sophie- Aubrey Hall 1802 - Benophie AMD AU)

16. Benedict and Sophie had been stuck at My Cottage for a good week already, the storm they had gotten caught in was far worse than anything anyone could have imagined and the Crabtree’s had been unable to get back from wherever they were so Sophie had been left to care for Benedict. (A Close Shave- Benophie)

17. Anthony had no idea what was going on or why Gregory and Hyacinth would just not screaming (Lavender Blue - Bridgerton Siblings)

18. It had been a really easy journey, it was just a weekend away and Sophie had begged him to take the motorbike, they had clothes and they had everything they needed at their cottage and in the end it didn't take much begging (Too Close for Comfort - Benophie - Bridgerton Enterprise AU)

19. For Sophie, there was nothing more perfect in her life than her family. (Like Mother Like Daughter - Sophie & Violet)

20. Paris Fashion week had been everything Sophie had hoped. (What Happens in Paris. Kanthony & Benophie - Bridgerton Enterprise AU)

I think my favourite has to be “For Sophie, there was nothing more perfect in her life than her family.” because it just sums up everything Sophie had ever wanted in her life. It’s just beautiful.

I do realise I don’t have a style or a particular trait… half of these are concise, half of these are random and long. A bit like my brain hahahahaha

I’m not tagging anyone cause I think people are busy enough but if any of my mutals wanna have a go please do 🧡

#fic game #first lines #ash’s fics #bridgerton

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themackenzieboydchronicles · 2 years

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Mack Has an Unwanted Visitor at the Allotment.

Mackenzie Boyd Fanfic.

Mack was at the allotment tidying things up. "What a disaster" he thought to himself as he arrived. "At least my pumpkins are OK"

"I thought you would be here" a voice whispered.

"Oh my God. Meena!" said Mack turning round quickly. "What the hell are you doing here?"

"Looking for you my handsome prince" Meena answered.

"Less of the silly talk I'm phoning the police" said Mack.

"I wouldn't if I were you" she answered slithering up to Mackenzie and kissing him on the neck. "I've got people watching over your loved ones"

"Geroff you mad bint" cried Mack pushing her away "How did you escape?"

"Being transferred to some looney bin in Berkshire of all places. How dare they think I'm insane" said Meena taking hold of Macks hand and leading him into the shed.

"You've been sleeping here haven't you?" Mack asked

"Oh my baby you are so clever" Meena shrieked "This little pad is ideal for us. We'll beat the cost of living crisis as the overheads will be minimal"

"Come lay with me and let us make a little playmate for your unborn baby daughter" said Meena pulling Mackenzie towards her.

"How did you know Lucy was having a girl?" Mack asked.

"A wild guess" Meena said with a sickly smile.

"Just go" said Mack who was getting more and more anxious.

"Sleep with me" Meena whispered. "I've sprinkled rose petals on the bed that I got off that rose bush in the next allotment"

"Never in a million years" Mack replied pulling away from Meena. "Why are you still contacting me. I've got hundreds of texts and letters youve put me through hell"

"And so it should abandoning me like that" Meena answered. Besides it kept me occupied writing all those letters" said Meena "Its so good to have a hobby don't you think?"

"You need to go" said Mack.

"Let me tie you to the bed" Meena purred. "I know how much you enjoyed that when we were together"

"Just stop this nonsense" Mack pleaded.

"What?" said Meena "If you banish me I'll have to find the luscious Lucy and give her a kiss on her soft lips just before I kill her"

"Just leave Lucy out of this" said Mackenzie.

"You hurt me so much and It wasn't that long ago you were swearing your undying love for me when we were in the throws of passion" Meena went on "And then that rich bitch temped you away"

"Don't talk about Lucy like that" Mack replied.

"Do you still cry out in pleasure when you make love to Loopy Lucy?" Meena teased. "It was such a turn on for me and I can't tell you how jealous I am of that bitch who is getting your attention now. Do you make her scream in ecstacy?" she cackled.

"None of your business" said Mack "Now just go"

"You'd put the mother of your second child out on the streets" said Meena.

"Yes and no way would I make a child with you" said Mack who was raging by now.

"Ooh" squeeled Meena clenching her hands and jumping up and down with pleasure "You are so sexy when you are angry"

"I've told you. Just go" said Mack.

"I'm going nowhere there's a wind getting up and I love it here" Meena scowled "I've got my henchmen or should I say women keeping an eye on that tart you got up the duff"

"I'm going and you'd better not be here when I come back tomorrow" said Mack.

"Don't be so mean" said Meena "We could order a Macky Dee's. Our last supper before we float off to paradise. I know how much you like their Happy Meals"

"What share a meal with you? I'd choke" Mack retorted.

"How dare you" said Meena "When you come tomorrow you will bring some food with you then I'll tell you what our plan is after you make love to me"

"In your dreams" Mack scowled. "There's no plan"

"Oh yes my dreams" said Meena "My dreams are all about you my little munchkin" waving to Msckenzie as he left.

14.10.22.

#meena jutler #paige sandhu #mackenzie boyd #lawrence robb.#emmerdale #macks allotment

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chudleycanonficfest · 3 years

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Day 5, Story #2 is by @bjornthorsson20

Title: Thinking About You as I March On Author/Artist: bjornthorsson20 Pairing: Ron x Hermione Prompt: Songfic (Some Nights by Fun.) Rating: M Trigger Warning(s) (if any): Panic Attacks / Trauma/ Nightmares about Traumatic Events / Suicide Ideation

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Hermione,

This is the last letter I’ll be sending you. By the time you receive it and read through it, I’ll be either returning home to your waiting embrace or I’ll be dead, with news of it reaching you through one of my superiors.

I haven’t slept more than an hour at most for a week now. The night terrors get to me, and I can’t force myself to try dozing off again. Even when I do manage to sleep, the nightmares just get worse. I started having to daydream about you to maintain my sanity. Food and water have become scarce, and I’m sure I’ve lost an unhealthy amount of weight at this point.

Thankfully, all of us are still alive so far. Harry has been the one to snap me out of my sleep terrors and vice versa. I overheard him crying one night while writing Ginny a letter. We were afraid we were losing Seamus for a moment some days ago when he started snapping at everyone and going off about how we were all doomed, but Dean managed to talk him out of it while Harry comforted Neville, who started sobbing, saying he wasn’t ever gonna see Hannah again. I had to step away. It became too much.

Thinking about you has kept me going. Every moment I contemplated giving it all up, I thought about you, crying yourself to sleep every night as I know you do, unsure if your husband is coming back home alive and well and all in one piece. I thought about how perfect you looked in your wedding dress. I thought about the kiss we shared that day and how it meant the start of the rest of our lives together, and all the little kisses, touches and caresses that happened later in the evening. The moment we became one, and moved in sync with one another; the way you clung to me afterwards like you wouldn’t let me go, and the way you cried until you no longer had any tears to shed, knowing what was going to happen to me soon. The confessions of love we traded before drifting off to sleep, and every unspoken promise in between.

I’ve spent most days just staring at your picture in the locket you gave me that belonged to your grandma. Seeing your unwavering smile never fails to make me cry. I miss Mum, Dad, Ginny, everyone, but above all, I miss you. I miss your laugh, I miss your voice, I miss the feel of your hands, your lips, your cheeks nuzzling mine, your hair, and how I love it, even though you hate it. I miss feeling all of you. I- Sorry, I had to stop writing for a moment there before I stained the letter.

We’ve shared so much already, and I hope with all I have that fate is on my side and I’ll get to share so much more of me with you soon. I love you, Hermione Granger, more than I could ever love someone else. I’ve loved you since the day you came into my life, since the first time you drove me crazy, because it was then I decided that I wanted you as my wife, my woman, my partner for life, and the mother of my children.

After you’re done with this letter, look up and out the window of our living room. And if everything goes well, I want you to come running outside. I love you. You’re always with me, and I hope to always be with you.

Your Ron.

With tears streaming down her face, Hermione looked up and out the window immediately and her heart stopped in her chest. Standing up so quickly knocking the chair down, she opened the door and ran outside, into his open arms as they held one another tightly, sobbing into each other’s shoulders. Hermione couldn’t stop repeating “you’re back”, as if reassuring herself it wasn’t all just a dream, with Ron repeating her words back to her.

They pulled back to look at one another, both cupping the other’s face. Though Hermione instantly noticed the heavy bags under his eyes, he looked much better than what she was expecting after his letter, but the loss to his bulky physique was still apparent, even through his clothing.

They shared one long, passionate kiss to remind themselves of the indescribable feeling before Hermione pulled away, looking at him in an odd way he couldn’t quite place. As her expression slowly morphed into a shy smile, she gingerly grabbed his hand, bringing it to rest on her belly. Ron was confused for a moment, looking back at Hermione. When he saw the way she started tearing up, he understood.

Unable to find an appropriate response at the moment, his face broke into the widest grin imaginable, as he too began to cry. Hugging his wife tight, almost lifting her off the ground, Ron couldn’t believe his luck.

A lot had been lost, and many lives who fought alongside him were unfairly taken too soon. But while Ron had witnessed death, so too had he witnessed new life. And Ron wasn’t going to take his own life for granted anymore. For all the friends he lost, for all the people who came out of it alive with him, for all the people who had been waiting and worrying for him every single day and night, for his family, for his wife, for his unborn child, but most importantly, for himself. Ron Weasley was marching on.

He was now home. And he wasn’t leaving ever again.

#chudleycanonficfest2021 #HP fest #hp canon pairings #canon fest romantic #submission #romione #ron x hermione #tw: panic attack #tw: nightmares #tw: trauma #tw: suicide ideation

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jbbuckybarnes · 3 years

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Scared & Sacred - Ch. 2

Pairing: Din Djarin x Reader Description: The Mandalorian had helped you while you were hunted for your family name and you had grown a little closer over the months, but you didn’t expect THIS. How was this possible after just three times of getting so close to him. You had to find a nurse as fast as possible. Warnings: pregnancy, angst, lots of emotions, canon typical violence, fighting

M A S T E R L I S T

Chapter 2 - The Letter

Every night you prepared some more food in little portions to keep you alive on the journey you would start soon. You had three pairs of every clothing in a compartment that you would put into a bag, bought another bag on the last planet to put the food, water and a blanket in. Even got a cheap med pack on the last planet. On the next planet you‘d leave. You‘d find someone to bring you back to that harmonic place where the nurse droid told you that you were expecting.

„Cyare?“ You closed the compartment as you heard him come closer. „Hm?“ You looked up at him in front of you, holding a fuzzing Grogu. „Something‘s upsetting him.“ Arms reached up and grabbed Grogu out of Din‘s gentle grasp. „Hey, sweetpea, you‘re safe here. We won‘t let anything happen to you, yeah?“ You tried to calm him a bit. It worked a tiny bit, but he wiggled free again to sit on your lap and nuzzle into your belly. „Better?“ You chuckled and got a coo of agreement, making you chuckle. Eyes wandered up to the Mandalorian again, „It‘s okay, he can sleep here.“ It would be a nice last night having Grogu sleeping right on top of you, showing love to his sibling. You started to notice that region of your body growing harder to the touch. „Do you mind if we share?“ Din‘s modulated voice reached your ears. „I‘d prefer sleeping alone, if I‘m being honest.“ You answered softly, shutting him out of your heart and bed. „Did I do anything to upset you? You‘ve been very distant since we left Arcaro.“ That was the harmonic planet, you saved the name internally. „I miss your touch.“ „Oh, no no. Just having a lot on my mind at the moment. Going through memories of my childhood and all.“ That was only half a lie, so you didn‘t feel very bad. „If you need to talk, you know I‘m there.“ You nodded softly, starting to hear Grogu snore. „Get some sleep, Din. You have people to hunt tomorrow.“ You smiled and saw him nod before heading off to his cot.

You couldn‘t sleep with the journey ahead on your mind, so you grabbed a piece of flimsy and started writing a letter to Din that you would leave behind, attaching your soup recipe that the kid liked the most. You put it in an envelope and put it between your pillow and the mattress. Shortly after the exhaustion of the day got you to fall asleep for a few hours.

Din and Grogu were hunting for a Corellian woman while you got the last important pieces for your journey and the ship. You filled up the food supply, bought another melee weapon and you found a very used vest that would hold off blaster shots that you put on under your gown. Once all of that was done you checked through your backpack and side bag and put them on your body. A deep breath went through you as you looked around one last time. This was a great home and protection for a while, but it was time for another chapter in your life. You‘d miss Grogu a lot, as well as the beskar armored man with the patience of a Jedi.

You headed down the main street of the city to find a ship you could fly with all the way back towards the planet of Arcaro. You ended up meeting a woman that used to be a fighter for the Republic. Hated the Empire and thought bounty hunters are annoying. Seemed safe enough. As you took off she asked, „What‘s your business here?“ „Leaving behind the people that helped me run from the people that hunted my family because I‘m with child and they weren‘t ready to accept that kinda life.“ You kept it short but clear. „Damn, that sounds like a lifestory if I ever heard one. Who knocked you up?“ She was direct. Reminded you of Cara. „The man that protected me for the last months. Very kind, kind of emotionally incompetent, definitely wouldn‘t take the news well.“ „I see.“ She nodded before jumping into hyperspace. She knew you had the credits to pay her, everything else was just listening to your interesting story and getting a good tip for a market.

— POV CHANGE —

Din stepped into his ship with Grogu. It was dead silent, not completely unusual. What was unusual was the fact you didn‘t react when he called out „Cyare?“ The child in his arms cooed in confusion and looked up at him with a frown. „She might still be caught up on the market. We‘ll wait.“ But even that plan fell away once he had fully arrived home and opened the compartment that you had fully stocked before leaving. „Oh, I‘m having a bad feeling about this,“ he whispered to himself as he closed the compartment and put the scanner on his helmet on. Only your footsteps, no others in sight. That didn‘t make sense. She never really went on walks, when she did she always was back in time to welcome him. He followed the steps and arrived in another hangar. „Hey, you there!“ He pointed at the slightly intimidated man near the hangar. „Y-Yes?“ „Have you seen a human woman in white and blue gowns, a green bag and braided hair? This big, cloak is blue too, with white details on it.“ „She went through here, yes.“ „Did she seem afraid?“ „No, she was acting normal. Talked to a woman that frequently takes travellers with her to other places. Seemed to be ready for a trip.“ „Dank ferrik! Thank you.“ NOW he was a different type of concerned. Why did you leave? Willingly! He scanned over the holopad the man held, taking in the information on it that he hoped was about the ship you were in.

When he got back he noticed one of his weapons missing in his arsenal, your blue blindfold on the co-pilot seat and everything neatly cleaned and organized in the kitchen. This was starting to kill him from the inside out. What had happened? What would make you get up and leave on purpose? From the man you loved and the child you cared for so much? He checked your bed. It wasn‘t made. The only thing in here that wasn‘t neat and tidy. And there he saw it, something sticking out from under your pillow. His mind went back to the time he found a little booklet there. A booklet about human children, medical stuff. He took off his gloves and grabbed the flimsy, opening the envelope he held in his hands shortly after and noticed it was a letter addressed at him.

*Dear Din, I know this might be confusing. That I‘m gone now, that I went without telling you. I know it‘s dangerous out there and that you are a big reason I‘m still breathing, but I couldn‘t bear the idea of making a decision benefiting you and leaving me lost. When you told me you weren‘t ready for a child, I knew I had to leave. I won‘t decide against it and I didn‘t wanna hear from your voice that I shouldn‘t keep it. I‘ll miss you. I‘ll miss Grogu. He‘ll miss his unborn sibling too. I know how excited he was for it. I‘m content with knowing that the child was created out of love. Two months and about a week ago. I hope that gives you rest about the situation. I‘ll go back to Arcaro. The place with the beautiful market and one of the best nurse droids I‘ve ever met. I‘ll figure out where to go and how to be on my own from there. I hope you don‘t mind that I took one of the weapons you barely used in the last months. Have this recipe for Grogu in return, he loves it the most and sleeps the best after eating it. Love, Y/N*

Din was drowning in an ocean of feelings. He wanted to cry, scream, beg, jump in happiness and yearned to have you in his arms. Oh, how much he wanted to have you in his arms right now. How much he wished you would‘ve told him that day. He would‘ve pushed away all your doubts. He would‘ve worshipped you, your body, the wonders happening inside of you. Instead you were running from him like he was some disgusting monster.

He sat down in the pilots seat with Grogu on his arm and the letter in the other hand, setting it down gently and punching in the coordinates to the planet you mentioned. You‘d arrive there after him if he did this trick right.

— POV CHANGE —

You gave the Republic lady a big tip and a hug. „It‘s rare to meet someone to talk to like this. Thank you for the ride and the long talk.“ You smiled at her and she grabbed both of your arms gently. „I land here every now and then, so if you ever see this piece of metal land, say hello.“ She grinned and let you go.

You stepped down the ramp of her vessel to see the market you loved so much fairly empty. It was really early in the morning on this planet. You got closer to the market and saw how some vendors currently refilled their little shops. „Where do you think you‘re going?“ A dark voice was audible behind you. It was familiar. „Kuuvi?“ You turned around to the man that has been hunting you for a year now. He used to be a good friend. „Yes, it‘s me.“ You turned around to him with a smile. „How have you been?“ You asked as if he didn‘t have the capacity to kill you right there. „Eating good, having a nice ship, good people around. How about you?“ He shrugged. „Except for the nice ship I can only say the same.“ „Where is your tin can?“ „Oh, he‘s just getting some supplies. Looking for a better ship at the moment. Razor Crest is great and all, but it gets crammed in there.“ You chuckled. Being royalty made you a master of lies sometimes „Twi‘ku still wants you on his doorstep.“ He gave a dirty grin. „You still work for that half-rotten idiot with bad rates? Moff Gideon would pay you so much more, I mean he‘s the source.“ „Either would pay me enough to retire if I deliver you.“ „Well, would be against the code of any guild.“ „Huh?“ „Pregnant women aren‘t allowed to be hunted.“ With a sweet grin you watched him realize the information you had just dropped and frown, enough distracted time to run one of your knives through his throat. He grabbed after you, getting out his vibroblade, but you had a gun trained on him in return, stepping on his lung and taking out the knife. „Traitor!“ You pulled the trigger and burned a hole through his heart. Two more men were running at you, one got a blastershot to the throat and the other got your new staff punched over the head.

You looked up to see people around the market hiding behind stuff, before hearing a saber lighting up behind you. „It‘s nice to see you alone for once.“ Moff Gideon. You were dead. You were so damn dead. „What do you want from me?“ you growled and heard him chuckle. „Not much, you just took something from me that you can‘t give back.“ „My brother killing your daughter isn‘t something that involves me!“ „No, but I overheard you are with child, so we might as well call it even.“ He charged at you with his dark saber, but just before it could hit you there was something big landing between you both.

„Nobody hurts my child.“ You heard his possessive and protective voice. „Oh, how sweet.“ He attacked Din ruthlessly, making you both step back further and further. Troopers came at you from left and right and you took out the second weapon you stole from Din, shooting left and right while leaned against his back. Behind you the saber strained against Din‘s arm guards. „Give up. You won‘t win this.“ Gideon hissed at him. You heard more jetpacks land behind you. Three blue Mandalorians landed in Din‘s sight behind Moff Gideon. „You have something that‘s mine and you better give it to me.“ You heard a familiar female voice. „Bo-Katan Kryze.“ His voice was somewhere between a chuckle and an unsure shakiness. There were no living stormtroopers anymore in just seconds and the four Mandalorians closed in on Moff. His saber not working on their armor. „Any last words?“ Bo-Katan asked with a serious voice. „They‘ll never stop coming for you. For your children, your family, your friends, your religion. They will always watch.“ Din put a blaster shot through his head from a low angle, „Psycho.“

He turned around to envelope you into the safety of his arms, „Cyar‘ika!“ You were shaking and gripping onto his cape, „I‘m okay. We‘re okay.“ „You can‘t just run off like that.“ He sounded wound up, probably thinking about what would‘ve happened if he hadn‘t arrived in time. „I thought-“ „Your thoughts aren‘t the reality. You really thought I‘d tell you to get rid of your unborn child. I told you children are seen as sacred in Mandalorian culture.“ You looked behind him and got a nod from a helmetless Bo-Katan, „We‘ll get this done, go talk.“ Din tightly put his arms around you and you shot up into the sky before landing on top of a building. His hands, freed from gloves, wandered over your cheeks. „I wish you would‘ve told me. I wish so much that I could‘ve been able to tell you to stop worrying and I wish you would‘ve been able to see me jump in joy at the news. I know we don‘t talk a lot, but this was the time you should‘ve talked. If I had said something negative you still could‘ve left.“ Your lip started trembling, he was right. You were so dumb for doing this. „Hey, no no, I understand why you did it, cyare.“ His helmet touched your forehead. His hands wandered down your sides, „Can I?“ You nodded and felt his hand wander over the hardened skin on your lower belly. He went on his knees before you, hands on your hips before they wandered to his helmet. „Din, no.“ You whispered and heard the hiss. „I thought about this for a long time. There is not one way, there are multiple ways that all have the same core. Look at Bo-Katan, Boba, all these people we met. I grew up in a version of this religion that doesn’t work for me anymore, I don‘t want that to be our child's life too. I want to live it our way.“ And with that the helmet came off. „They are gone, no one can hurt you two and Grogu anymore.“ „But the Empire.“ „We‘ll deal with it.“ The helmet went down and you could finally see his face. Soft face, with harsh features, smiling, „Besides. You looked pretty hot fighting off those idiots.“ „Wait till I break your hand while delivering the child.“ You chuckled with tears streaming down your face. He was so beautiful, so gentle. His nose pressed against your belly, his grip on your hips tightening just enough for you to feel even safer. „Where‘s Grogu?“ „On the ship, probably eating all the supplies.“ You both chuckled and enjoyed the moment for a while longer. „I can‘t wait to meet you, ad‘ika,“ he whispered to your unborn baby. There was so much love in his eyes that you started crying again. „Oh, cyare.“ He took your face in his hands with a caring frown on his face. „Don‘t mind me, just hormones.“ You chuckled to lighten up the situation. „My riduur.“ His bare forehead met yours. „Huh?“ „It- It means partner.“ He said it with such an innocent unsureness that you had to whisper a small, „Oh, baby.“ „I‘ll open up to you more, yeah? We‘ll find a good planet to stay.“ „I like this one so much.“ „I know, cyar‘ika. But maybe we should go to Sorgan for a while before coming back here. Grogu will have children to play with and you will be able to relax.“ His thumbs still caressed your cheeks. „Okay, my knight in shining armor.“ You smiled and kissed his nose, before taking his helmet and putting it back on his head.

You flew back to where you had fought, finding Bo-Katan with the dark saber. „I can rule over Mandalore again and you both are more than welcome there once it‘s done.“ She sent you both a smile. „We might take you up on that.“ You smiled back at her. „We‘ll clean this up and make sure nobody else is hunting for your children. We owe you for finally having this in our hands.“ She held up the saber. „Thank you,“ Din said sincerely and nodded before you said your goodbyes and went back to the ship.

You found Grogu arms deep in a jar of nectar. „Oh Grogu.“ You giggled and he turned around with his signature coo, ears falling at being caught. „It‘s alright, but don‘t do it again. You wanna see your dada‘s face?“ You asked picking him up, cleaning him with something from one of your bags. His eyes got wider and his ears perked. You let down both your bags and the cloak before turning around to Din. „Ready?“ You smiled and he nodded before taking off his helmet. The child gasped and reached for his face, so you held him up to it. He babbled while touching all over his face, Din chuckling and intently listening. Had he always looked like that beneath the helmet when talking to Grogu? „Dada.“ His and your eyes widened at that. You turned Grogu around to look at you and praised him, „Good boy, you love your dada so much, don‘t you?“ A tiny giggle came from his body before he wiggled again. „You wanna say hello to your sibling?“ Another squeak. You sat down on the floor, so did Din while also losing some parts of his armor. He watched as the child put his hands on your belly and closed his eyes, you felt the gentle tingle again. His tiny green nose nuzzled into your skin right where he felt his sibling through the force. „You‘ll see it in a couple months.“ You smiled down at Grogu and gently touched his ears. He could sense that good things happened. That you both weren‘t as worried as you usually were. „Let‘s go to Sorgan and meet the children you like playing with, yeah?“ Another happy squeak came from the green child. „Ner aliit.“ Din murmured softly. You understood without asking. You were his family now and he was yours.

___

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sweetestlamb · 3 years

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Touch My Heart

Summary: The heart wants what it wants.

Author’s note: I tried really hard to accept the ending of Mr. Queen and I was able to find enjoyment in watching the characters that I had grown to love but after deep consideration, I can’t truly accept what happened to Bong Hwan, it’s just too cruel despite knowing how homosexuality is viewed in Korea. If that was the plan he should have never been made to fall in love with the King and they should have merely been friends working together for the greater good. no romance if it was going to be thrown away in minutes. If they wanted to include hot make out scenes then make it known that Soyong is taking control of her body and this is not what BH wants, but he’s taking the backseat in those moments. Let it be known that they are both in there but the romantic feelings are solely from SY. Don’t let BH wrestle with his sexuality and accept that he loves the King only to leave him with nothing back in his world, he grew from the experience but at the cost of what? His sanity. Anyway, yes I changed my mind. I The couple I fell in love watching was BH and Cheoljongie and that’s probably the only couple, I’ll write about. Maybe when I see more of SY in the spin off I’ll grow fond of her, but to me Cheoljong’s heart belongs to BH and just because SY loves him doesn’t mean she deserves him, the same way Byeong-In didn’t deserve her.

A month goes by, the most splendid month she's ever spent in the palace. Walking around the castle grounds, there are always jubilant faces; servants greeting her with wide grins instead of the fear she used to evoke, she smiles back now instead of trying to thwart their happiness. It feels like someone has lit a torch in her once pitch black life, what she thought was a pointless existence now suddenly has a meaning and purpose.

And it's all thanks to him, this mysterious man from the future. Jang Bong Hwan. When she jumped into that lake she had expected death, and nothing more. She didn’t have a plan, she just didn’t want to suffer anymore. Everywhere she turned there were locked doors and there was no way out. Suicide was a sin but she would gladly accept her punishment, living her life was worst than any hell she could imagine.

But rather than death she was locked in the deep crevice of her mind.

Seeing and hearing all but unable to say or do anything, a vegetable in her own body. But fright melted away to admiration, this strange man was brave beyond belief; standing up to those who had made her existence a living hell. Despite all the step backs and their many attempts at his life, their life he hadn’t given up finding new ways to fight back every time. Without even trying he had accomplished her one desire in life-to be the owner of the King's heart. She watched in awe as the icy barricade erected around his heart became to thaw, no match for the fiery force of the time traveler.

She watched as they fell in love and although it was her body, they were his feelings. Feelings that had taken time and effort to grow, it was torture to not be the one experiencing that. Then like a gift from the heavens she was back, restored to her rightful place. When she'd awoken to the King's tearful eyes, his mouth wide and twisted in pain she knew she would do anything to make him happy. This was her second chance and she wouldn't waste it.

Everything had changed while she'd been away. Everyone had changed.

Court Lady Choi and Hong Yeon looked at her at times, curious eyes unblinking. As if they were waiting for something, but she didn't know what. She was behaving as the perfect queen, listening the Court Lady's every complaint without agitation, they should have been happy but instead they kept looking confused and longing like there was something that wasn’t quite right. She futilely tried to convince herself it was simply her imagination.

However, it was not solely them. The King was the worst, they shared a bed every night and in the beginning she'd been elated at this occurrence. Until about a week ago, when he'd asked her a question she couldn't answer.

"My Queen, there is another word from your dictionary I need help understanding. What is the meaning of this?" He crawled closer to her, shifting the silk bedding beneath them. Once she got over the pleasure of having him so close, fear set in.

His finger was underneath a word, she'd never seen before in her life.

Fraud.

She tried to sound it out mentally, taking his syllable separately but it still sounded foreign and she watched his anticipation dissipate as he awaited her reply. He continued to stare intensely at her, his brows furrowing as the seconds dragged by.

"My Queen?" The tone of his voice unsettled her, he looked desperate for a reply and dread settled in her stomach. She wasn't who he thought she was and the look on his eyes made it evident, knowing the truth would irreversibly change their relationship.

So she did something unthinkable.

Clutching at her stomach, she feigned pain watching him push the book aside to grab her, wrapping her in his embrace as he rubbed her back. Whispering soothing sounds into her hair. She pressed her face into his neck, miserably. This was the life she'd yearned for, why were things still not as they should be?

She'd fallen asleep, too shamed to allow him to hold her that night. He hadn't tried to change her mind, rolling over and turning his back to her. It felt like they had moved back to step one.

She'd kept her distance following that incident, needing a moment to process her thoughts without her love for him clouding her mind. He hadn't tried to visit her either, instead sending letters to check on her and their unborn child. She felt the wall being built and she didn't know what to do to stop its insurrection.

Sneaking away without her court ladies noticing she went for a late night stroll, hoping to clear her thoughts of the King, Her luck must have been running out because instead she stumbled onto a conversation that was not meant for her ears.

Her intention hadn't been to eavesdrop but she couldn't walk away, it piqued her interest too much.

"The King seems different these days, wouldn't you agree?" The usual jovial voice of Special Director Hong was serious as he asked the question, using a cloth to clean a long gleaming gun as he stared up at the King's brother.

The prince stopped sharpening his sword for a moment to consider the question, after a long pause he nodded in agreement.

"Yes. He seems troubled and he has not been visiting her highness. Each day he sighs while holding a strange book. He seems lost.".

"What do you think could be bothering him? He has everything he's ever dreamed of. The kingdom is doing better than ever and he's expecting a child. This should be the happiest moment of his life."

The Prince sighs shrugging before replying in a hushed voice, "I've not seen him like this since he learned that Hwa Jin was not the one from the well. He acted this way then too."

It feels like a dagger through her chest, stumbling back she rushes back to Daejojeon hall with her heart in shambles. What am I doing? She feels nauseous at the comparison, she was fooling the King and she doesn’t know how much longer she can continue this farce.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

To say the Queen is acting strange is an understatement, she is acting like someone completely different. He waited for her to drop the honorifics, thinking she was teasing him and this was meant to be a joke but she didn’t, instead she she began acting like a proper Queen and easily following the suggestions of her Court Lady to both of their dismay. What was wrong with her? Had she hit her head and forgotten that she was meant to be a loveable headache and not a soothing summer breeze?

She's still the same beautiful woman, looking at her evokes the same lust and admiration but speaking to her confuses him; in that she no longer uses words he cannot understand and her behavior is that of a trained Queen. He’s confused but her lack of confusion. She's being extremely consistent and he's never been more perplexed and thrown off kilter in his life.

He finds himself yearning for something he cannot name. Looking at her in the hopes he'll find what he's looking for and instead of a mischievous grin or an arrogant smirk, he's always greeted with the same serene smile. It's pretty but it's not the smile he's grown to love these past few months. It reminds him of the Soyong he'd met during that rain shower, someone he didn't know but found appealing.

They haven't slept together, despite sharing a bed. All of his advances have gone unnoticed, where as before it simply took them being in the same room to ignite a flame in both of their loins. Once he'd followed the Queen into a pantry, hearing her grumbling about nosy head chefs but once she noticed his presence, it only took seconds before they were ripping at each other's clothing. They'd been missing each other all week and he was practically starved for her. It was clear the feeling was exceptionally mutual. He'd taken her against the wall, hard with her egging him on and whispering pure filth in his ears.

"Fuck! Yes right there, don't be gentle. Fuck me until I can't walk, come on harder!"

He had no idea what that word she said meant, fuck but he was powerless against her commands flipping her around to pound into her from behind, a position that she had taught him. She wailed rocking back shamelessly to meet his harsh thrusts, the sound of her nails scratching the wall making his skin hot. Skrrrrrrrr. They slammed into each other until his legs were tense from the position and she wordlessly took over, separating them with a loud wet squelch before pushing him to the ground and riding him like a wild stallion. He had watched helpless as she bounced on top, her breasts jumping freely as she shoved him deep inside of her tight grip. When they were finished, he was dazed and breathless. She'd looked at him with barely opened eyes, slowly licking her lips looking like sin personified before patting his cheek.

"I needed that. Thanks for screwing my brains out." She barked slipping off his softening cock, he watched mesmerized as his spent dripped from her precious place.

More words he didn't fully comprehend but her satisfaction was obvious and that was all he needed. He'd preened under her, feeling himself swell again at her words.

She raised one eyebrow at the sudden press of hard skin in her thigh.

"Come visit me tonight. We need to make up for lost time."

They had made love until his cock couldn't get hard anymore and she'd collapsed next to him, splayed with her breasts bitten red and his seed leaking from her well used hole.

Something had changed but he couldn't place what it was exactly. He tried brushing it off but it gnawed at him until he couldn't hold it in and he'd broken down and asked her about the Queen's dictionary. He'd purposely chosen the word knowing exactly what it was. His Queen had used it several times to describe the corrupt members of the royal court. They'd all been frauds, living a lie wolf in sheep’s clothing.

He thought that would put his mind at ease but instead it had been the opposite; her hesitation solidified his fear, there was something afoot and he had to know what it was.

He sighs stroking at the book, he always keeps by his side.

"What am I missing?"

Before he can get too lost in his thoughts the head eunuch enters the room, bowing all the way.

"Your majesty, the Queen has come to visit you."

He looks up at the announcement, his usual excitement doused by his doubts but his heart does lurch at her arrival. His Queen did not care about propriety, coming to this chambers at such an indecent hour was a great sign. That was more like the Queen he'd grown to love. Maybe he had been overthinking and there was nothing amiss after all.

"Let her in." He straightens up, moving the scrolls to the side to give her his full attention.

He watches as she bows gracefully, before sitting down. Far away from him. A ball forms in his throat, he'd gotten used to sharing his space with her; and sharing his table during their late night talks. She didn't appear to have any intentions of joining him at the surface despite the constant occurrence of that happening the months prior. He tries to but he couldn't keep the disappointment off his face.

"My Queen what brings you here so lat--"

"I'm not who you think I am." She interrupts, staring down at the floor instead of looking into his eyes. Strange again, she was typically so good at maintaining eye contact at times even unnerving him.

He tenses at her exclamation, mouth falling open in shock. What did she mean? Who else could she possibly be if not his Queen?

"What are you saying? Are you feeling sick?"

She ignores his inquires, "You've noticed. That I'm different. I can see the way you look at me, the way everyone looks at me, like you're all waiting for something. I'm not that person."

He tilts his head, trying to understand her meaning but he can't decipher what she's trying to say. He tries to reconcile the two versions of the Queen he's come to know, the wild untamed Queen he fell in love with and this poised and tactful Queen he was a stranger to. The two don't make sense in his mind.

"The person you fell in love with..."

He stares at her intensely almost scared to hear the rest of her sentence but knowing he must, his biggest fear was living a lie and not having control over his fate. Holding his breath he impatiently waits.

"That wasn't me. Do you remember what I said to you the day after I woke up?"

He storms his memory trying to recall her words oh so long ago. Then it hits him, those crazy words coming out of her mouth.

I'm really a man. From the future.

He had paid her no attention than, barely wanting to be in her presence much less listening to her tall tales about something that couldn't be true. She was clearly a woman and the second claim held no possibility at all. But they'd had conversations later too about those same ideas, right in the spot he was sitting now.

She'd taught him about things he could only dream of- democracy, voting, people born with spoons, even people who loved others who shared the same sex. He'd been confused about the last one but she had explained it simply, "Love is love. Who cares what they have between their legs?" Worded in such a manner, he'd found it impossible to argue with her. Love was indeed, love.

"Are you saying that this was true? How can that be? You are here right now. Who are you then?"

She sighed finally looking at him, face cloaked in sadness.

"I'm Kim Soyong, the person you are in love with is Jang Bong Hwan. He was controlling this body after I jumped into the lake. He's the one that helped you and he's the one that was willing to die for you."

He gasps leaning back in his chair, before bringing up a hand to cover his face, scrubbing wordlessly at his skin.

"I know this is shocking but I couldn't lie to you anymore, you kept looking for him and it's clear I'm not the one you want." Her voice is soft, barely a whisper and guilt spreads at her assessment- she's right and he's guilty that he can't deny it.

A sad smile fills her face, "Don't feel bad. You didn't do anything wrong. I should have fought harder to have the life I wanted, I thought death was my only option but I should have chosen to live. I didn't love myself enough to fight."

He's suddenly transported to that night by the lake, her eyes glowing with tears as she begged him to love her, to understand her. He hadn't been able to see that moment clearly then, assuming it was a command and that she was another evil member of the Kim Clan. She'd loved him but he couldn't see it then too blinded by his thirst for vengeance.

But he sees it now. Clear as daylight.

"I'm sorry."

She seems paralyzed by his unexpected apology but before she can cut him off he continues, "I'm sorry I couldn't understand you. I was too blinded by revenge to see you that you were a victim too. I should have tried to understand you." He owes her at least that much, but he can't say that he wishes things were different. It would be falsehood. If she hadn't done that unspeakable act of throwing herself into the lake he would have never met Jang Bong Hwan, the man he loved.

It was selfish but he wouldn't have changed anything, it was all worth it for those fleeting moments they spent together.

"Is he gone now? Back to where he belonged? Is he....happy?" He's broken at the idea that he'll never see him again, they never even got to say good bye. Was he alone now with no one to comfort him? Did he struggle to fall asleep too? It hurts that he will never know.

"I think so."

That has to be enough then, he has to accept things for what they are. It was against the rules of time that they crashed into each other's orbit, fates hand had taken a wrong turn and this was the Queen he was supposed to be with, he understood her now. He didn't hate her. He could grow to accept her and his fate and move on, he had to.

But his heart rips remembering her- no him wrapping the scarf around his neck, the first time he saw the embroidered CJ and how it brought him to tears. His grunts as he carried him from the well and let him hold him until he fell asleep. His face as he'd reached for him after the explosion, the distress and panic. How was he supposed to forget any of those moments? How was he supposed to go on living without Jang Bong Hwan?

"Thank you for telling me."

"That's not all I came here to tell you."

His head spins, nervous about what other information she could possibly have to tell him. He still hasn't processed this, both that he's been in love with a man and that he'll never see this man again.

"I want to give him my body."

All the whirling in his brain shuts down at her utterance. Finally, his mind is silent.

"What?"

She repeats with more confidence, "I want to bring him back. I want to give him back this body."

He stifles his glee at the suggestion, knowing that he can't allow her to do such a thing. This was her body, her life, how could he allow her to throw herself into the lake again? He was a better man now, he wouldn't stand by as she took her life, not this time.

"No. I can't let you do that. My happiness is not worth more than your life, I will get past this I promise you. I will stop looking at you with expectations, I'll accept who you are." He will grow to think of her fondly, she's the mother of his child he will make space for her in his heart.

He watches as a single tear streams down her cheek, "Can you promise that you'll grow to love me, the way you love him?"

He's frozen at the question, he stares wide eyed at her. Immediately knowing the truth, avoiding her eyes as he stares at his palms. He can't make that promise when his heart only beats for one, he stays silent knowing that his silence speaks volumes.

"Would things have been different if I hadn't been from the Kim Clan?” She asks him again, the question that had tipped her over the edge and he feels all the regret and guilt in his body and this time he answers honestly.

"Yes. They might have, I could have accepted you better. But I love him now, I wouldn't change anything because it all brought me to him. I can't apologize for how things went." He knows those aren't the words she longs to hear but he can't give those to her, he can't accept her feelings.

"Maybe in a different universe, we could have been something more." She says heartbroken, face wet with tears now.

Maybe. But he doesn't want to find out. He wants this universe with the one who holds his heart.

She bows before standing, "I've made up my mind. I'm doing this for myself as well, I can't live my life as a shell. I want to find my own happiness too."

He watches as she walks out the room, never looking back.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

He doesn't understand her full intention until days later, he watches puzzled as Hong Yeon, the Queen's most loyal court maid comes barreling towards him. Her face is red with exertion and something that looks like terror. He feels the same emotions coming to life in his body as he watches her pant and struggle to speak.

"What's wrong? Speak! What happened?" He commands, impatiently waiting for a reply.

"Your majesty, it's the Queen." She cries, a cascade of tears falling from her eyes and he doesn’t wait for any clarification before he bolts off to Daejojeon hall, hoping that he's not too late. He couldn't afford to lose anyone else.

#Mr.Queen #queen cheorin #king cheoljong #jang bong hwan #Kim So-yong #finale fix it #it was too painful despite my silver linings #no touch princess #mr.queen

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airashisakura · 3 years

Text

Pregnancy Diaries

Chapter 6 - Sakura's Birthday

Written for

SakuraHarunoBPBirthday2021 @sasusakublankperiodweek

Prompts - Sakura gets sick on her birthday and Sasuke forgets her birthday

and

@harunosakuraweek Day 8 - Sakura's Birthday

Rating: General audience

Characters : Haruno Sakura, Sasuke Uchiha and Aoda

Summary : When Sakura gets sick and Sasuke forgets her birthday because the expectant parents were too busy panicking

FFN AO3

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5

Sasuke's eyes were sad as he fixed the blanket on Sakura's body. Though spring had arrived, it was still cold... Or, Sasuke thought, maybe it was because of where they were staying. Sasuke muttered a curse under his breath, because staying at one of Orochimaru's hideouts was equal parts hilarious and dangerous.

Had he been seriously out of his mind when he suggested the idea? He rubbed his temples, berating himself for his decision. The dark dungeons were the last place on the earth where he wanted to bring his ailing wife.

He slumped on the chair beside the bed where Sakura was resting. He covered his eyes with his lone arm, sighing with frustration. Every inch of his body felt tired after all they had been through. He needed sleep, but he couldn’t.

They had stopped abruptly when Sakura told him that she couldn’t continue the mission in her current state. While they had been heading for Konoha, they were delayed by frequent stops because of Sakura's sore feet and nausea. Sasuke made sure to take the safest path, which turned out to be the longest one.

Although his brain wanted to hurry as fast as he could in situations like that, he kept control over his pace. Every wince on Sakura’s face made him anxious, and even when he used Susanoo, he was extra careful.

It was when they were crossing Otogakure that Sasuke found that Sakura was too tired to walk even an inch, and his own chakra reserves were getting dangerously low. The best he could arrange was to find one of Orochimaru’s hideouts nearby and to rest before they could continue again.

Sasuke lifted off his arm and looked at Sakura with concern. He watched as she breathed slowly, but painfully. Her skin was paler than before — a tone he had never seen before on her. He couldn't blame her; Sakura had been vomiting after almost everything she ate.

His eyes fell onto the cause of her suffering — her heavily pregnant belly where the future of his clan rested. The side of his eyes crinkled as he rested his palm there, feeling his child's vibrant chakra. He couldn’t explain how he’d felt when Karin had mentioned that Sakura would be delivering the baby soon. He could relate to Sakura’s excitement to meet their newborn, how she had stuffed half of his satchel with the clothes for their unborn child.

However, his happiness was short-lived when he remembered he had something in his satchel that Sakura was unaware of. When he saw a messenger hawk from Konoha approaching him a few days ago, he had expected it to be some official letter. However, as he read through it, he realised the letters were for Sakura — birthday wishes for her. He had shoved them inside his satchel with a big lump of guilt because he had almost forgotten Sakura's birthday.

How could he? He had been asking the same question from the day he had received their friend’s letters. How could he be so inconsiderate to forget a simple thing for the woman who loved him without any hesitation? Uchiha Sasuke didn't know what infuriated more — his naive decision to let Sakura travel through her pregnancy, or his failure to remember such a small thing.

"Anata, is something bothering you?" Sakura opened her eyes weakly.

Sasuke didn't answer and looked at Sakura with an expression that told Sakura he was bothered about her.

Sakura shifted uncomfortably under the sheets before she propped herself up on her wobbly arms. Sasuke got off his seat hurriedly and placed his palm on her back, providing her leverage to sit up. She smiled meekly before flinching at the building ache in her body. The medic knew it was her body’s way of preparing to let the baby out, but she wondered how she could make her terrified husband understand that.

"You know, Anata, I'm fine. These…" Sakura flinched again as she fisted at the side of her belly, clutching her garment. "These symptoms are totally normal."

Sakura inhaled sharply, straightening her back in an attempt to dissipate the pain. She didn't want to admit that she was freaking out too, so she held herself calm. Sakura tried to stretch her legs to relieve her aching muscles and spoke again, "This is a little painful…"

While Sasuke was helping her, Sakura fell a mild contraction and she yelped.

"Ouch! That hurts. It feels like someone is stabbing kunais at my back." Sakura finally gave up her attempt to keep a brave face. "It feels like my bladder is leaking, and I smell like puke."

Although Sasuke knew he could have been punched considering her bizarre mood swings, he scoffed. Sakura didn't quite succeed in assuring him, but she lifted off his grim mood.

However Sasuke being amused didn’t help the expectant mother and she snarled, "Shannaroo! I'm freaking! Helping to deliver babies and actually delivering one myself are so different."

Throughout their travels, Sakura had never been the one to complain about anything. Sasuke rubbed her back sympathetically and he realised she had been holding back more than he imagined.

"It's just…" Sakura paused, letting the pain subside before she admitted, "It's just that I don't want to give birth here."

Sasuke frowned, his hand abruptly stopping. He knew what Sakura was talking about. He also didn’t want his child to be born in the same place where he had once sought power for revenge. Going back to Konoha would have been the best option, but he was helpless to change that now. All he could do was to trust his previous teammate from Team Taka.

"Karin," Sasuke stated, trying to make a point, but he wasn't sure how he was supposed to assure Sakura now.

As if reading Sasuke's thought, Sakura said before shaking her head sideways, “I trust Karin-san.”

It would have been easier for Sakura if she had been in Konoha, being helped by Shizune and others to bring her baby into the world. She’d been tense initially when she realized that it wouldn’t be possible for them to make it back to the village in time. She thought about the interaction she had with Karin earlier — the formation of a mutual bond — that had marked the beginning of their friendship.

“Actually she has been taking care of me more than I could ask from her,” Sakura said, smiling.

Sasuke's eyes softened. However he remained silent, because he could sense now that the reason for her hesitation was the same as his own.

Sakura’s eyes wandered through the dimly-lighted room as her eyes reflected worry, “This place gives me the creeps.”

Although Sasuke tried not to visibly flinch, she could tell by Sasuke’s expression that it bothered him too.

After a few moments of silence, Sakura spoke, "Sorry, I didn't want to trouble you."

She cupped Sasuke’s cheek, and Sasuke accepted the warmth of her loving touch. He wanted to see that smile on her face more and decided to deliver the birthday letters to Sakura in order to change the mood. He got off the bed, before saying, “I’ve something for you.”

As Sasuke dug inside his satchel to find the letters, he heard Sakura chirp, “What is it, Sasuke-kun?”

He felt a tinge of sadness as he held the papers in his hand, because he didn't even have a token to offer. Like always, he was incapable of giving her anything. It was Sakura who had given him her love, a home, and now a family.

“Sasuke-kun? Hurry up and come here,” Sakura pouted.

Sasuke smirked at his wife’s impatience. He handed the letters to her, as he sat opposite, facing her.

“Letters? For me?” She gasped as she hastily unfolded a letter. She squinted, recognising Naruto’s messy writing which read, Happy Birthday.

Sakura’s eyes widened in surprise when she realised she had forgotten her own birthday. She was about to say something, but she stopped. A wave of emotions hit her when she realized their baby would be born a few days after her birthday.

Sakura whispered, wiping the tears from the corner of her eyes, “You remembered, Sasuke-kun?”

Sasuke didn’t want to disappoint her, but he didn’t want to lie to Sakura either. He averted his gaze from her before saying, “No, I don’t even have something to give you.” He shut his eyes and with a heavy heart, he apologised, “I’m really sorry, Sakura.”

“You have already given me a gift,” Sakura said sincerely, her voice full of love.

Sasuke’s puzzled mismatched eyes met with Sakura’s green.

She blushed before interlacing his fingers with hers and placing them on her belly.“And that too, a precious one,” she cooed.

Sasuke was at loss of word, but he still smiled. The guilt that had been plaguing him since the letters had arrived was dissolved by his wife’s simple words.

“Now, if you could, please read these for me,” Sakura ordered Sasuke, keeping her voice authoritative. She waved the letters in front of his eyes and added, yawning, “because I am too tired.”

Sasuke smirked. Though he would ordinarily be annoyed with Naruto’s writing, he said, “O-tanjoubi omedetou, Sakura.”

#SakuraHarunoBPBirthday #SakuraHarunoBPBirthday 2021 #SakuraWeek2021 #sakuraweek2021 #Sakura Week #ss fic #SasuSaku #sasusaku fic #sakura haruno #sakura uchiha #pregnant sakura #Pregnancy Diaries #sasuke uchiha #filling the gaps

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benex78 · 3 years

Text

Forgive our Sins

5 years after the events of Immortality, Sara and Grissom are living back in Las Vegas when a ghost from their past reappears in their life forcing them to face some old decisions. GSR of course! Enjoy it! I hope you like it and please review it! (Sorry if there are mistakes but I'm not a native English speaker and a special thanks to my friend LuLu for reading it)

PART 1 They went through a lot together during their 16 years long relationship. She left him and the sin city, he went to Costa Rica for her, they got married, they got divorced, she went to San Diego and sailed with him. They hurt each other more than once, but their love never stopped. In the end, they gave up their carriers to stay together, got married again and now they were finally living happily together. Grissom and Sara are back in Vegas, living in a small house in the university district. While Sara works as a consultant for the crime lab, Gil is a part-time professor of entomology who tends to stick his nose in his wife’s forensic cases. 14 years have passed since the miniature killer events and Natalie Davis is still in prison. In her cell she keeps a collection of miniatures and she is now working on a new one. She interrupts her work on the miniature to write a letter. It’s a difficult one: she had tried to write this letter so many times without success, in fact there are a few ripped sheets of paper on the floor. This time is different, she manages to use the rights words and, once done, she sends the envelope to the Las Vegas Crime Lab. It’s addressed to Sara Sidle. What does she want from Sara? Does she want to make amends? Does she want to go after her again? PART 2 A car is parked outside Sara and Grissom's house and the driver is observing Sara. One day on her way to work, Sara notices him and tries to run away, but suddenly she’s caught in an incident. She is brought to the hospital where a frightened Grissom arrives. Fortunately, Sara is fine, she only has some bruises and she is soon allowed to leave the hospital to go home with her husband. Sara tells Grissom what happened and now they fear someone is chasing them. Thanks to the street CCTVs the police finds and arrests the stalker, however the man has nothing to do with the accident. Thus, he is released, but not after securing a conversation with Sara Sidle. He is a private detective and he needs to talk to Sara because his client, a woman named Kelly Ross, wants to meet her. Sara asks the detective the reason for this meeting and he responds that Mrs. Ross instructed him to reveal only in which part of Vegas she lives and, most importantly, that they have someone in common. Sara is caught off guard as she doesn’t know what to expect from this. However, she can’t help but feel curious. PART 3 On their day off Grissom drives Sara to Mrs. Ross, but he waits outside in the car. He is worried but he respects Sara’s decision to go in alone. When opening the door, Mrs. Ross welcomes Sara with a warm hug then she lets her in. Gil Grissom observes the whole scene speechless. When Sara comes back couple of hours later, she is in shock and immediately askes Grissom to take her home. He wants to know about the meeting, yet Sara begs him to give her some time to put her thoughts together. That evening in their kitchen Sara tells him a story she kept for herself for far too long. FLASHBACK:13 YEARS EARLIER The miniature killer had changed everything: the team had found about her relationship with Grissom, she had to join swing and above all she felt something inside her had broken and no one, not even Griss, could do anything to help her. She was so depressed that she decided to leave Vegas and the love of her life. She was in L.A. visiting her mom when she started to feel unwell. It took her a few days to even conceive the idea that she could be pregnant. She went to the nearest drugstore and paid for a test that she took directly in the customers toilet. She waited in there for almost an hour with the result in her hands: POSITIVE! How could it be? She didn’t want a child and Grissom neither. They talked about this at the beginning of their story and even more recently when he proposed. They (she and Griss) were the only family they wanted. How could she tell Grissom something like that? At least by phone she could avoid looking into his eyes and see his disappointment. She went back to her motel room and waited for the morning to come. She didn’t sleep all night, she kept looking at the clock on the wall. When she was sure Grissom could be home from work, she called him. He picked up almost immediately. She heard him giggling at the other side of the phone, but his joy faded at the news. Sara was so depressed; their relationship was stalling and surely, he wasn’t ready to be a father. Thus, they both agreed to end the pregnancy. Grissom offered to come to L.A. to be close to her, but Sara declined. She wanted to do it alone and he didn’t complain. She had just booked an appointment at a private clinic, when her mother got sick, so she had to postpone the whole thing. When she finally got there 3 weeks later, it was too late to proceed with the abortion. She had no another choice but to contact the social services to find a family for her unborn child. She never told Gilbert she carried their baby and that he was put up for adoption. To him, this was a dead story. Just 10 days before Warwick’s murder she delivered a healthy baby boy who she held only briefly in her arms before giving him away. When she came back to Vegas, Grissom was so devastated he didn’t even notice her body didn’t have the usual silhouette and she kept the secret for herself. Until now. Sara’s confession is very painful, she fears Gilbert’s reaction. She fears he will hate her and never forgive her for taking his son away. However, Grissom isn’t angry. He seems quite relieved instead. Grissom reaches his hand out across the table and places it on top of Sara’s, giving it a gentle squeeze: - I don’t begrudge you honey. In the end, you did what we had decided. At the time we didn’t want a kid and you didn’t keep it. Honestly, I’m quite happy it went this way. – Sara raises her head: - Really? – Grissom admits: - Yeah, because now, 13 years later, we are talking about someone we created, someone who has our genes and who probably is still alive. Even if he is somewhere, we don’t know where and who raised him – Sara reveals: - Gil, his name is Dylan, he is here in Vegas and Mrs. Ross is his adoptive mother – Grissom is astonished: - What? He’s in Vegas right now? Did you see him? – Sara shakes her head: - No, he was at school - Grissom: - How did Mrs. Ross find you? – Sara: - I can’t explain it, but since I had decided for an open adoption, she must have assumed a detective to find me. - Grissom: - But why now? – Sara: - Because she wants to give us a second chance – Grissom: - Sorry I don’t get it – Sara: - She is dying, she has terminal cancer and her husband has died of Covid last year. She fears that once she’s dead her boy will end up living in an institute until his 18th birthday. - Grissom’s heart starts beating fast, he can’t bear it any more. Maybe it’s his age but he wants to be a father now. However, he knows everything it’s up to his Sara: - Can we…? What do you want to do? - Sara: - Honestly… I don’t know – Grissom: - Sara, we are his parents! – Sara’s answer is firm: - No, we lost that right a long time ago Gil! – Grissom corrects himself: - You are right, but we have to do something. Don’t you want to get to know him? To see who he looks like? – Sara: - Of course I want to, but I am also terrified. I abandoned him. For all I know he could hate me. – Gil replies: - He could love you. - Sara gives Grissom a sad smile. Grissom tries to lift her spirit: - He could be a geek like us - Sara announces: - Gil, he is a special boy, he is not like the other kids – Grissom asks: -What do you mean? – Sara: - Mrs. Ross told me Dylan can’t hear, he has a genetic disease that made him almost deaf 5 years ago. Grissom is hurt, he can’t find the words to express his feelings. Sara notices his reaction and she gently touches his leg. Sara: - Are you ok? – Grissom nods: - I just don’t know how to feel about this: happy because I have something in common with my son or sad that I passed this pain to him It's all my... – Sara raises Gilbert’s chin, she cuts him off this time, shaking her head: "No, it's not. and it's not right to put the blame all on you. We both made stupid decisions in our relationship that lead us to where we are now." She takes a breath and speaks again more softly. "Now, I just want to put all of that behind us and start over..." Grissom clears his throat and asks in a more serious tone: - So... what do you think? – Sara takes both his hands in her and smiled a little: - I think we are going to speak with Kelly Ross and arrange a meeting with Dylan. Ok? – Grissom nods satisfied. Sara: - Let’s see what happens but we have to keep our hopes grounded – Grissom: - Ok… Come here – and takes Sara in his arms: - I love you, no matter what! – Sara leans towards him. She looks him in his eyes and responds with a tender kiss on his lips whispering against them "I love you too”.

PART 4 Sara spends the week working and thinking, thinking and working. Tension and expectations building up every day, more and more. In her mind Sara has imagined their meeting with Dylan at least 300 times, she has repeated all the possible things she could say to him, but every time his reaction is bad and the meeting goes wrong. Even Grissom is anxious; nonetheless he tries to distract Sara: he invites her to see one of his lessons at the university, he proposes a trip on a boat over the lake Mead and he takes her out to dinner. The Italian restaurant they go to is one of their favorites. They eat a very good lasagna and they drink a little more than they usually do, just to relax. Once at home, they go to bed. They face each other but, thinking of the day ahead, they can’t sleep. Grissom: - It’s gonna be fine – Sara: - You can’t know that – Gil caresses her hair: - No, but we have to stay positive – Sara takes Gil’s hand and brings it to her cheek: - I don’t know what to tell him – Gil’s finger brushes her lips: - The truth! If he asks, we’ll tell him the truth - Sara: - But? – Grissom: - Honey, if we want his trust, we have to be honest. We can’t lie. - Sara: - I am scared! - Grissom: - Me too – and he slowly kisses her. She returns the kiss as they are taken by the passion of their bodies, entangled in one. Their minds are lost in the rhythm of that primordial act of desire, they know so well. They are just flesh and skin, sweat and moans. PART 5 It’s afternoon and they are sitting in a park near Dylan’s school. The sight of the boy approaching them with his mother takes their breath away. Kelly greets them from afar and points them to her son. They stand up and walk in their direction. Sara and Grissom stop when they are in front of Dylan and Kelly. 4 souls, 4 people meant to be a family finally together. Dylan is a mini version of Grissom. He is not so tall but he’s slim. He has short curly brown hair. His eyes are blue and curios. Behind his left ear he has a hearing aid. Kelly addresses them to Dylan; she gestures in sign language and tells him: - They are the friends I was talking to you about. – Grissom takes courage and speaks first, gesturing his words: - Hi Dylan, my name is Gilbert and she is my wife Sara. We are happy to meet you. Your mother told us a lot about you. – Sara: - Hi, sorry but my sign language is a little rusty. I will try to improve. – Dylan: - Don’t worry, I can hear you (he indicates the implant to Sara). Moreover, I’ve learned to read lips. You, (he addresses to Grissom) on the other hand are very good. – Grissom: - Thanks. My mum was deaf, she taught me – Dylan nods pondering the answer. Sara tries to break the silence: - How was your day? Do you like school? – Kelly intervenes: - He is the best of his class – Dylan gives her a little buff on her right arm: - Mum please! – Kelly smiles: - He is shy, he doesn't like to brag – Grissom and Sara, grinning, exchange a look of complicity mixed with pride: - We can imagine – Dylan fixes them and he asks abruptly: - Why don’t you tell me who you really are? – Grissom and Sara almost choke: - What? – Kelly scolds him: - Dylan?! – Dylan continues: - You are my real parents, aren’t you? Sara feels responsible and wants to give him an answer: - You are right, I’m your birth mother and he is your father. – Dylan insists: - Why are you here? – Kelly: - I asked them to come – Dylan turns to his mother in shock but Kelly goes on: - I have to know that you would be safe, cared for and loved when I will be gone – Dylan: - How could you think that I would stay with someone who abandoned me? – Kelly interrupts them: - You three need to talk, you need to know each other. Dylan please, you have to listen to them – Dylan: - I don’t want to – and he runs away. Kelly touches Sara’s shoulder, she feels her pain and apologizes for Dylan’s reaction: - Give him some time. He is a good boy… he’s very smart – Grissom sighs: - I see – Sara is ashamed: - He is right, I made a mistake. – Kelly tries to soothe her by saying: - We all make mistakes, Sara – Sara: - But he is the one who’s paying the consequences of that mistake – Grissom: - We had our reasons, dear– Sara locks her eyes on Gil: - and why does it all seem so wrong now? – Kelly: - Let me talk to him – Sara replies: - No, I want to try - Sara goes to look for Dylan; Grissom follows her but she turns and stops him: - Give me 5 minutes – Gil nods; she approaches the boy. He is sitting on a swing. Sara asks him permission with a soft voice: - Can I? – Dylan shrugs his shoulders and Sara sits in the swing next to him. The boy leaps down and faces her. Sara: - I’m so sorry for everything, Dylan. I’m sorry for your mum, for your dad, for your earing problems, and above all I'm sorry for what I did to you. – Dylan: - Why did you leave me? – Sara tries her best to formulate an answer: - It’s complicated.... I wasn’t feeling very well. Something bad had happened to me. – Dylan interrupts her: - My father? Did he hurt you? – Sara: - No, absolutely not. He has always been kind to me – she invites Grissom to join them and he moves in their direction. – I was, I still am a Crime Scene Investigator. Do you know what it is? – Dylan nods and Sara continues: - I was working on a case, and a serial killer kidnapped me and left me to die. I managed to escape, your father and other members of my team saved me – Dylan listens very carefully. – But after that, nothing was the same. I was broken and unhappy. I wasn’t myself anymore and I couldn’t stay there. I went away from your father, from this town, from my old life. I could not be a good mother for you, you deserved more. – Dylan looks at Sara and then Grissom and says: - You are married now – Sara declares: - We got back together 5 years ago. – Grissom kneels in front of Dylan: - We're not here to be your parents, you already have them – Dylan states: - My mum is great! – Grissom agrees: - It’s true. We just want to know you, Dylan! – Sara teases: - Can you give us a chance? – Dylan thinks and then asks Sara something that has always intrigued him: - Did you give me a name before.. you .. ? Sara affirms instantly: - Arthur, I named you Arthur –

LITTLE FLASHBACK OF 13 YEARS EARLIER Sara was holding her baby when a nurse entered the room to take him. The social assistant was waiting outside. The woman checked the papers she had filled in. On the birth certificate she had written her name, Gilbert’s, and a new one: ARTHUR. She gave her baby a kiss on the forehead and passed him to the nurse who left the room, closing the door to a crying Sara. Grissom turns towards Sara, surprised by her admission. Sara looks at him directly in his eyes: - It’s your father’s middle name! – Dylan chuckles, satisfied by the answer: - It’s my middle name too – Sara is grateful that the Ross in some way had kept the name she had chosen for him. Dylan remarks: - My father was a pastor, he always told me to forgive the others. I’m forgiving you! – They give him an appreciative smile before Grissom touches his head saying: - He’d be very proud – Dylan nods and walks over to an emotional Sara. He wipes a tear from her face, similarly to what Gilbert would have done. She whispers a thank you to him, then they return to the bench where Kelly was sitting, watching the whole scene.

PART 6 Grissom and Sara start seeing Dylan every day after school. Their bond gets deeper and deeper. Dylan looks more at ease with them. He loves spending time with Gil, making experiments, going fishing or sailing. They find a new balance in their lives. Every once in a while, he even spends the night with them. The guest bedroom has become his room now. Kelly’s cancer on the other hand gets worse and she ends in hospital. It’s a Wednesday morning when Sara picks up Dylan from school and brings him to the hospital to give his mother one last hug. Kelly Ross dies at 2.00 PM of that same day and Dylan cries in the arms of Gilbert. At the funeral he stands between Sara and Grissom. He is brave but silent. Over the last year, he has lost both of his parents and found two new ones. It’s strange how life takes an unexpected turn sometimes and turns up the way it should have from the beginning. In fact, before her death, Kelly had arranged things so that Sara and Gil could have full custody of the boy and become a family.

PART 7 Sara is in a hurry; she greets her boss and some other members of the team as she prepares to leave the office. The receptionist at the desk calls her back and gives her some correspondence. She doesn’t have time to read it, she will do it later with calm. All she wants to do now is to go home to her boys and to enjoy the evening with them. After dinner Dylan does his homework in the living room, Gil prepares his lesson and Sara tidies the kitchen up. She suddenly remembers the letters in her purse, so she takes a break to read them. An envelope without a sender attracts her attention. She rips the envelope and her jaw drops.

Dear Sara Sidle, I’m Natalie Davis, you probably remember me as the miniature killer. I’ve been thinking of you very often lately. I know, I don’t have the right to write to you after all this time, but my journey here in prison made me reflect on my actions and on what I have done to you and to the other victims. I’m so sorry Mrs Sidle, I can’t change the past and my apologies can’t relieve your pain or what you’ve lost. I was angry and I seeked vengeance for no real reason except because I couldn’t accept the daemons from my past. I should have known that that wasn’t the answer but I was too lost. I hold Mr Grissom responsible for the death of Arnie Dell and I tried to take you away from him because of his love for you. However, and now I know this, it was not his fault and you were a collateral damage in my inner war. I don’t deserve your forgiveness; I’m not searching for redemption. I’m just happy that you are alive. I also hope life has been kind to you and that Mr Grissom is still by your side. Sincerely, Natalie Davis

Sara confronts Grissom about the letter and what to do next. They are concerned, still they decide to go to the county jail to see Natalie in person. As CSI they get a special permit to meet her in the interrogation room. The door opens and a guard escorts Natalie Davis inside. She is handcuffed and she’s wearing an orange suit. For the first time in 14 years she, Sara and Gil are in the same room. The guard moves to stand in a corner and Natalie sits at the table. Natalie is surprised by this visit: - I didn’t expect you to come. - Sara: - I didn’t expect your letter either. - They contemplate in silence for some time. Natalie clears her throat: - Anyway, thank you. Your presence here is very important to me – Sara replies: - I’m here because I wanted to look you in the eyes, to make sure your words were true and your regret sincere. Natalie: - Mrs. Sidle, I don’t know what to do to prove it to you - Sara: - You wrote you don’t deserve forgiveness… – Natalie: - No, I don’t. I’m a sinner and I need to be punished for my sins! – Sara: - Hmmm. It was not easy to understand it but now, now I’ve got it. We have different backgrounds, different stories but we have one thing in common – Natalie looks confused. Sara continues: - We are survivors, Natalie! We are women with physical and psychological scars. I could have surrendered to the difficulties that life put in front of me, as you did, but I decided to move on and I’m still doing it – Sara grabs Gilbert’s hand and squeezes it. They exchange a tender look. They both smile before Sara shakes her head and goes on: – Therefore, I forgive you! – Natalie is incredulous: - Why are you so good to me after all I’ve done? - Sara: - I’m not good, I just think this place and your sense of guilt are enough for me. We cannot live in resentment forever, and you know what? I’ve learned such an important lesson from a very mature 13 years old boy who has been through hell in such a short time. Goodbye Natalie. - Sara and Gil stand up and leave the room, Natalie and her nightmares behind. Dylan will be home soon with some of his friends. Tonight, they will go to the Luna park, they will ride the rollercoaster and then eat pizza. Their future is definitely bright.

THE END

#csi crime scene investigation #csi vegas #fanfic #fanfiction #sara x grissom #sara sidle #gil grissom #gsr

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luminescencefics · 4 years

Text

the light inside

Natasha Reynolds is trying to figure her life out. She’s newly single, behind her deadline for her newest book release, and currently stuck in her best friend’s house while her home office is being renovated.

Harry Styles is just trying to complete this project. He’s in the midst of his own home renovation, but when he steps foot into Natasha’s townhouse, he finds that there’s more to life than just trying to rebuild.

A oneshot about starting over, learning how to cope, blonde haired toddlers, and finding the light that shines inside of you.

written for @majorharry‘s 20k fic celebration

prompt #27: “your hands are soft,” prompt #29: “stop looking at me like that,” prompt #33: :”I--I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”

harry/ofc, 8k

Natasha Reynolds is losing it.

She’s currently sitting in the half-finished nursery of her best friend’s unborn child. It's the only room in Ellory’s home that has some semblance of quiet, and that is exactly what Natasha needs considering she’s about three weeks behind her workload. Her inbox chimes with a notification of a new email, and Natasha sighs, ignoring it as the red number on her laptop screen grows from forty-six to forty-seven. No doubt they’re all from her editor. And, no doubt that if she doesn’t respond in the next hour, her phone will start to ring incessantly.

Natasha’s life never falls out of order. She has always been a woman with a plan, ever since uni, and that mindset has paved a road of success for her that she never thought she would achieve at this early an age.

Right after uni, she drafted about twenty query letters and sent them out to various publishing agencies throughout the Greater London area. She had been penning her mystery novel series her entire last year of university, and with a stroke of luck her first book was being edited and published before Natasha could turn twenty-five.

The first book was a success. It became an even bigger hit overseas, and not long after was her agent proclaiming that she must develop a second book. Three more books and three and a half years later, the Midnight series was finished. It allowed her to travel the world, meet fans of the book, and earn enough money to own property in Mayfair.

But now that her series was complete, her editor and agent were begging for Natasha to release a new book. Natasha wanted to branch away from the mystery genre and come up with a brand new book, one that would not be developed into a four-part series.

And, considering her newly single status, it made sense to venture into romance.

As of lately, Natasha feels like she has bitten off more than she can chew. Sure, she loves writing. And sure, her relationship imploding definitely gave her the push she needed to start writing again. But she’s suddenly at a standstill—battling a difficult case of writer’s block.

On top of all of that, she’s been sequestered at her best friend’s townhouse because her home office was currently under construction. Natasha usually plans for these things, and she definitely would not have decided for her writing space to be completely transformed while she’s trying to reach her deadlines. But her ex-fiancé ended things abruptly and that office was the only space in her home that he had called his, so it only made sense to completely tear it down and start fresh.

If only the timing was appropriate.

Just as Natasha began writing the eighteenth chapter of her unnamed novel, she starts to hear high-pitched giggles get louder and louder down the hallway. She can hear the gentle thud of feet, and not long after is the door to the nursery thrown open.

“Tasha! Come play!” Maude calls from the doorway of the room.

Her hair is in wild curls and her cheeks have a gentle flush to them, no doubt from running away from Ellory and trying to find Natasha’s hiding spot. Yesterday, Natasha was hiding in the guest bathroom to get work done and it only took a few hours before Maude heard the toilet flush and suddenly found her.

Today, it only took an hour and a half.

“Hi Maude,” Natasha says with a small smile.

“Why are you in sissy’s room?” Maude asks, hobbling towards Natasha’s spot on the enormous bean bag chair in the corner of the room.

“Trying to get some work done. Where’s mummy? I thought you guys were supposed to be baking shortbread?” Natasha asks, tearing her eyes away from her computer screen and looking at Maude who has now become eye level due to the bean bag’s relativity to the carpeted floor.

“We did! Come see!” Maude’s sticky hands reach out towards the screen of Natasha’s laptop, and before her fingers can make a mess of it, Natasha slams it down with a gentle click. Maude starts giggling, reaching for Natasha until her forearms are sticky from flour and egg.

Sighing, Natasha follows after the three year old. There’s no way she’ll be getting any more work finished today.

Ellory looks up from the oven when she sees her daughter dragging her best friend into the kitchen. She gives Natasha a look, laced with an apology and a bit of pity. Ellory knows that Natasha is struggling. Her personal life has been shit the entire year, her workload is only increasing, and now her home is in a state of disarray.

“Maude, love, what did I tell you about bothering Auntie Tasha?” Ellory asks, her ivory hands resting on her cocked hip. She’s giving her daughter a pointed glare, but Natasha knows that it’s no use. Maude always finds a way of getting out of trouble.

“Sorry mummy. I just wanted to show Tasha what we made!” Maude says, holding her arms up so she can be placed on her chair by the kitchen island. Natasha just shakes her head a little, wordlessly telling Ellory that it’s okay. She wasn’t really being productive anyways, to be fair. Baking with her best friend and her daughter sounded better anyways.

“Any progress on the book?” Maude asks, pouring Natasha a cup of tea from the still-hot kettle on the stovetop.

Natasha just shrugs before slumping down on the chair next to Maude. “I’m still stuck on chapter eighteen. Diane’s going to ring my neck.”

Natasha’s editor Diane was nothing but a terrifying presence in her professional life. Granted, she was phenomenal at her job, and without her guidance the Midnight series would probably never have become the success it had, but Diane struggled with understanding how Natasha worked.

She knew about the break up. She knew that her life was in shambles. But Diane pushed through all of that. She was a career-woman first, and didn’t believe in distractions. Therefore, she continuously pushed Natasha to write.

Sometimes, Natasha just needed to breathe.

“You’ll get there, Nat. You just need to find some inspiration,” Ellory offered kindly, resting her hand on her baby bump.

Ellory was always ten steps ahead of Natasha. Starting in secondary school back in Hammersmith, Ellory was already thinking about where she wanted to apply for uni. Although they went to different schools, they still kept in touch. And while Natasha was struggling to finish her final exams and finish writing book one of her series, Ellory was falling in love with Isaac and already planning her wedding.

That happened four months after graduation. Isaac was in finance and came from a wealthy family, and not even a year later, Maude was born. Natasha was still living in her tiny flat in the center of the city, far too cramped for her liking. She was in the middle of writing book two, so her royalties from the first installment hadn’t come in yet. Ellory was already planning Maude’s first birthday when she encouraged Natasha to stop being a reclusive author and start dating, and that’s when she met Will.

Will was smart and posh and worked at the same office as Isaac. He was a career-focused, well-mannered, completely tailored gentleman, and for some reason he took a liking to Natasha’s abnormal life. They were the same age but he felt eons ahead of her. His flat was in a luxury building with a doorman, he owned more suits than he did casual clothes, he drank bourbon like her father did, and he never tried to understand why Natasha wanted to become an author.

He never pushed it though, and he never really tried to understand Natasha either. After she meets his family and they announce that their cousins are to be married, things began to change. Will’s family was very traditional, and when they found out that Natasha and Will had been together for two years and were still living in their own separate flats, Will hired a realtor and they started looking at homes in Knightsbridge and Belgravia, and they all felt too regal for Natasha’s taste. One afternoon when she’s visiting Ellory and newborn Maude at their home in Mayfair, Natasha comes across a dated townhouse that was for sale. It had crown molding and exposed brick, a dated fireplace and exposed beams that showed the true character of the place. With book three finished and her bank account expanding, Natasha puts a deposit down and they move in a week later.

Not even a year later, Will proposed. At the time, Natasha thought it was everything. She finally felt ready, and she thought that her and Will would be happy together. But then after that he started getting colder, and their relationship started feeling more rushed than ever before. She couldn’t even remember what she loved about him in the first place, and whenever she would ask him why he wanted to marry her, his response was always, “Because that’s what we’re supposed to do.”

Natasha was unhappy. And when they sat down a week after they had already mailed their wedding invitations to their guests, she told him that they shouldn’t get married. She expected Will to put up a fight and beg her to reconsider, but instead he gave out a deep sigh of relief.

A week later he moved out.

And three months after that he was engaged to another woman.

The ringing of the timer rips Natasha out of her thoughts and she laughs quietly when Maude starts jumping up and down in her chair, clapping her sticky hands when Ellory announces that the shortbread is finished.

“Tasha! Will you help us decorate?” Maude asks, grinning up at her mum’s best friend with wide shiny eyes.

“Of course,” Natasha responds, placing her arms under Maude’s armpits and lifting her off the chair and sits her on the granite countertop near the shortbread that’s resting on the cooling rack. Ellory lays out different colored icing, yellows and pinks and blues, and Maude greedily sticks a finger in the pink bowl and brings it up to her mouth when Ellory isn’t looking.

Maude starts to giggle when Natasha raises her eyebrows comically, before copying the three year old and digging a pointer finger into the blue bowl. Maude’s giggles grow louder when Ellory grows suspicious, but Natasha stays quiet, smiling at Maude as if they were sharing a secret.

Midway through icing the shortbread cakes, Natasha’s mobile begins to ring from the island. She groans, knowing that it’s probably Diane asking for an update, but when she gets closer she notices that the number isn’t one she has saved into her contacts, so she brings the phone up to her ear and offers up a quick hello.

“Hi, is this Ms. Reynolds?” a deep voice asks. It’s low and guttural and Natasha instantly recognizes it as the voice of the contractor currently redoing her home office a few streets away.

“Yes, this is she,” she says professionally.

“Right, this is Harry, we’ve spoken a few times before about your renovation. I just thought I’d keep you updated. The desk was delivered later than expected so we’re running a bit behind schedule,” Harry says.

Natasha groans because of course things were running behind schedule. It seemed to be the theme of her life these days.

“Sorry?” the voice asks, and Natasha slaps a hand to her mouth, realizing that her groan came out much louder than expected.

“Nothing. That’s fine, you can stay as late as you can in order to have everything back on schedule. I really would hate to push the completion date any further,” Natasha explains, ignoring the look Ellory gives her from the other side of the kitchen.

“No problem Ms. Reynolds,” Harry responds kindly.

“Thanks for the update,” Natasha says, saying a quick goodbye before ending the call and placing her mobile face down on the countertop.

Things really weren’t going her way.

***

Normally, Natasha leaves Ellory’s house by four o’clock the latest, and by four oh five, her house is void of contractors and construction workers and painters. Ellory offers for Natasha to stay for dinner, but after Maude throws a temper tantrum and Ellory grows increasingly tired from her pregnancy, Natasha decides to just head home. She could avoid the noise of the downstairs office by hiding away in her bedroom on the floor above, and she probably should respond to the growing number of emails in her inbox.

When Natasha arrives at her townhouse, she can already hear the erratic hum of the numerous power tools from inside the office. A large white van with Styles & Co. is parked right outside her front door, with a black pick up truck parked behind her parking spot across the street. Natasha unlocks her front door and is immediately hit with the smell of sawdust.

She closes the door a bit softer than usual so her presence would stay undetected. But while she slips off her flats and discards her jacket in the foyer, she hears the heavy sound of boots come closer and her head snaps up.

In front of her is a tall man with broad shoulders. His brown hair curls over the tips of his ear and stands taller in different areas around his head, most likely from pulling on the strands out of frustration. He has a thin layer of stubble surrounding his mouth and chin, and his green eyes are wide, searching her face the same way she was searching his.

“Ms. Reynolds?” he asks, and his voice has the same timbre as the one she was speaking to on the phone a few hours prior. She cocks her head to the side in surprise, taking in his long jean-clad legs, brown toolbelt, and white henley rolled up at the sleeves, revealing black ink etched onto his tan skin.

“Uh, yeah,” she responds, her mind growing a bit foggy.

He smiles in front of her, revealing a straight set of white teeth. “Hi, I’m Harry,” he says, wiping his hands on the tops of his thighs and extending a long toned forearm.

Natasha is a bit dumbfounded for once, because she figured the Harry she was speaking to on the phone for the past week and a half was someone much older. His deep voice reminded her of her father’s, and she had never come across a contractor so handsome in her entire life.

“Hi,” she responds after she realizes his hand has been extended a bit longer than normal. His eyes stay on hers as they shake once, twice, before her hands retreat back to her sides.

“Your hands are soft,” he says offhandedly, and she’s not entirely sure if he meant to say it outloud. His calloused hands are rough from his work, and when she looks into his eyes with a smile, she can’t see any ounce of regret or embarrassment.

“Thanks,” she says, shouldering her tote bag a little higher on her body.

“We’re almost done for the day, Ms. Reynolds,” Harry explains.

“Natasha’s just fine,” she responds, and she feels even warmer when she hears his Northern accent echo her first name to her.

She likes the way it sounds coming out of his mouth.

“D’ya want to see the progress so far?” Harry offers, hoping she’ll say yes.

Against her plans of retreating in her room to stare blankly at the whiteness of her screen, Natasha nods and follows Harry out of the foyer. The hallway splits in two and he takes a left, bypassing the staircase and entering the back part of the house where Will’s office used to be.

The room is much brighter due to the lighting fixture only having light bulbs without the lampshades. Natasha explained to Harry on the phone that she wanted the room to not be as cold and uninviting, and when he recommended painting the chandelier, she agreed instantly. White tarps were placed over the original hardwood flooring with paint buckets and rollers placed haphazardly around the room. Two other burly men were on the far side of the room near the big bay window, sanding down the large wooden desk and attaching different pieces to the furniture to make it the focal point of the room.

“Wow,” Natasha announces breathlessly, stopping in the middle of the room and looking around with wide eyes. It was such a contrast from what the room was before, and she could feel the weight on her shoulders growing lighter and lighter.

“It’s not nearly finished,” Harry says from behind her. Natasha just shakes her head, realizing that he probably doesn’t understand how much this room transformation actually means to her.

“Oi! ‘Arry! Where’s the cabinet?” One of the voices calls out. He’s older than Harry and has a few wrinkles surrounding his face, but he has kind eyes. His accent makes Natasha smile, and when he looks up he gives her a grin in return.

“Got distracted by the pretty lady, I reckon?” He repeats, and the man to his left cackles. Natasha looks over her shoulder just in time to see the flush creep up Harry’s neck, and she giggles a bit to herself.

“Enough of that, you two. Finish up and I’ll go grab it from the garden,” Harry says, his voice thinning as he retreats towards the back entrance of Natasha’s home where most of the furniture and supplies were situated.

“It looks great, guys. Thank you for your hard work,” Natasha says to the two men, watching as they stop their previous tasks and give her matching grins.

“No problem, lass. Reckon you’ll write another bestseller in this room, aye?” The darker haired man says. His accent is much deeper than the previous man and Harry combined, and Natasha laughs a bit when he mentions her writing.

Before she could respond, Harry is back heaving a large cabinet in front of his chest. Natasha jumps to the side, shocked at how strong he actually is. His long arms were wrapped completely around the piece of furniture, with his large hands fanned out over the doors in order to keep them from opening. He grunts as he places it on the floor in front of the two other men, standing up and wiping his brow with sweat.

Natasha really needed to stop staring.

She coughs to herself, averting her eyes even though she can feel the two other men’s gazes from across the room. She’s sure if she looked over they would have amused looks covering their faces.

“Right. Anybody need water or anything? Tea?” Natasha asks kindly, praying deep down that nobody actually needed anything and she could make herself a brew and hide away in her bedroom for the rest of the evening.

“We’re good lass, thank you,” the older men say, before grabbing a power drill and getting back to work.

“I’m all set, thanks though, Natasha,” Harry says, standing right in front of her. She really wished she didn’t love the way her name sounded leaving his mouth.

“No problem. I’ll leave you boys to it,” she announces, nodding her head before turning on her heel.

Before she enters the kitchen, she chances one last look over her shoulder, and she’s met with bright green eyes and a boyish grin.

She skips making her tea and runs straight upstairs, closing her bedroom door with a loud thud.

***

The next morning, Natasha wakes up much later than expected. After Harry and his crew had left, she went downstairs and made herself a late dinner. After an explosive phone call with Diane, Natasha managed to write two chapters that definitely were not up to her standards. It took her much longer than usual to write, and after a cup of black coffee that she only saves for emergencies only, she couldn’t fall asleep.

She wakes up to the sound of power drills and the smell of paint.

Ellory has called her twice already and texted her enough times to earn an eye roll from Natasha. She knew she was expected over there two hours earlier, but she needed rest. She responds as she’s traipsing down the stairwell in boy shorts, a tank top, and an old flannel button down. Her hair is in a bun and she hasn’t bothered putting her contacts in, and it’s only once she reaches the bottom of the stairs when she realizes that she isn’t wearing a bra.

Harry’s standing before her, green eyes blown wide. Natasha isn’t sure if it’s from her thin tank top and lack of appropriate undergarments, or if he’s just shocked to see her in general.

“Natasha—uh, hi.” He sounds breathless and she just gives him a tired grin, noticing the same two guys from yesterday hauling in different materials from the back garden. The door is open and the chill November air settles into the ground floor, and Natasha crosses her arms over her chest subconsciously.

She hopes Harry doesn’t notice, but she watches his pupils dart down for a millisecond before shooting back up, and her cheeks start to flush.

“Morning Harry,” she replies. “Want some tea? Coffee?”

She starts walking towards the kitchen without waiting for a response. Natasha can hear the heavy clunking of his boots, so she can only assume that he’s taken her up on her offer. He only responds once she’s filled up the kettle and turned the burner on.

“Uh, coffee, black. If you have it,” he asks cautiously. He’s leaning on the doorframe of her open kitchen, unsure if he should step further into the room. Natasha just nods before turning the coffeemaker on, adding grounds to the appropriate compartment and waiting for it to heat up.

She turns around then, resting her tailbone on the lower cabinets of the kitchen. Harry saunters forward, before sitting down on the barstool across from her, resting his arms on the countertop. She waits for him to say something.

“Figured you’d be at work or something,” Harry says after a beat.

“Slept in, I suppose.” Natasha shrugs, pivoting on her heel and grabbing two porcelain mugs from above and placing them on the granite.

“Sorry if we woke you,” Harry says, watching as she pours his coffee before grabbing her tea bag and pouring the hot water from the steaming kettle into her matching mug. He thanks her quietly when she places his mug in front of him.

“Nonsense. I should have been up hours ago,” Natasha responds as she’s steeping her tea.

She watches him idly as he wraps his long fingers around the mug. Without thinking, her eyes drift down to his left hand, second spot in from his pinky finger. It’s bare, and she squints under her glasses to try and see a tan line in the place where a wedding band should be. Maybe he doesn’t wear it while he’s working, she thinks to herself.

Harry of course is watching her, and he doesn’t need to mimic her inquiries in order to make an educated guess that she is in fact single. The foyer is filled with women’s jackets and high heeled boots, and in the two weeks he’s been working on her office, there’s been no trace of a man coming and going.

He doesn’t say anything, though. Just continues to let her stare.

“Will you be here all day?” He asks finally, watching as her brown eyes dart up to his face. She doesn’t seem embarrassed that she’s been caught.

“Probably. The glory of my profession—I can permanently work from home,” she offers with a hint of amusement, and Harry laughs softly to fill the space.

“Well, I’ll make sure we stay out of your hair,” he says, taking a large gulp of his coffee and standing up from the chair.

Natasha just smiles. “Don’t worry about me.”

Harry smiles back. “Cheers for the coffee,” he says, grasping the white mug in his hands and exiting the kitchen before taking a right and following the hallway down into the office.

Natasha goes back upstairs and writes three more chapters. When she checks the time and realizes that it’s a little past noon, she goes downstairs and hears silence. She enters her kitchen and prepares a small salad, and when she finishes to clean her plate, she notices the white mug resting on the drying rack.

She smiles for what feels like the fifteenth time that day.

***

Natasha and Harry have fallen into the habit of having tea and coffee together each morning. She starts staying home to finish her book, ignoring Ellory’s questions on what suddenly has changed for her.

“Inspiration,” Natasha would respond, offering nothing else.

They don’t really talk about much, her and Harry. She tells him about her book and he tells her about his house that he’s almost finished renovating in Chiswick. He tells her that he grew up in Cheshire and she tells him that her family home is about a thirty minute drive away. They don’t talk about the reason why she’s remodeling the office or why Harry is the only thirty-two year old Natasha knows who isn’t engaged or married.

Harry estimates that the remodel should be finished in about a week’s time, and Natasha somehow feels a bit sad about that. At one point she schemes of a way to delay the remodel, to ensure that Harry will be around for a bit longer than seven days. But she knows she’s ridiculous. She knows he probably has way better things to do than hang around her house in Mayfair.

One afternoon after she’s finished writing chapter twenty-nine, she hears a loud bang from the room below her. Immediately she flies down the stairs, takes a sharp right, and enters the office with wide eyes. In front of her, the coffee table that was supposed to be where the seating area would be is in shambles. The glass covering has cracked, and she checks the white tarp for spots of blood.

Rory and Gareth, Harry’s workers, are swearing at each other. They obviously figured that the glass would stay intact from the shipment center they ordered it from, but when they opened the box, they found that it was in twelve different pieces. She notices Harry in the corner, frustratedly pulling at his hair.

“Everyone okay?” Natasha asks, mainly directing the question at Harry. She can sense his annoyance from the other side of the room.

“We’re alrigh’, Natasha. The fuckin’ idiots who packaged the table clearly did a terrible job at it! It’s fuckin’ fallin’ apart!” Rory says loudly, his voice getting louder with each curse that passes his lips.

“It’s fine, I’ll reorder another one. Just please be careful when removing the glass from the house, I don’t want anybody to get hurt,” Natasha orders, watching as Rory and Gareth reach into their back pockets to retrieve gloves. They start picking up the glass shards slowly, before placing them into the cardboard box.

Harry just watches her, feeling the frustradness leaving his body. She’s very gentle, and watches the guys like a hawk, ensuring that they don’t get injured. Before they’ve finished, Harry announces that they can go and take their lunch break. Rory and Gareth thank him repeatedly, announcing that they need a smoke after the table debacle.

“I made too much stir fry, if you’re hungry,” Natasha says once the boys have driven off to eat their lunch in the park.

“Starved,” Harry replies with a grin. He follows her down the hallway and into the kitchen, admiring her long legs under her leggings. The jumper she’s wearing is big and warm, and his eyes latch onto her right shoulder, watching as the fabric hangs revealing smooth white skin.

Natasha fills up two bowls and they sit at the breakfast nook on the far side of the kitchen near four windows. He watches as she slides her glasses up her forehead, resting them like a headband in her dark hair. He thinks she’s the prettiest girl he’s seen in a long time.

“How’s the book coming along?” He asks after a few bites.

“Surprisingly, not as terrible as I thought. I’m actually right on target to finish it on the deadline,” Natasha replies. And it’s true—she’s gotten more writing done in her busy townhouse than she ever did in Ellory’s home, hiding away from Maude in closets and unused bedrooms.

“That’s great. You didn’t want to wait until your office was finished?” Harry asks, and Natasha can almost feel the follow up question coming.

“Didn’t want to fall behind schedule,” she replies quietly, waiting for him to just say it.

“Why did you decide to do a full renovation right before your deadline, then?”

And there it is.

It’s not like she still cares for Will. Because those feelings for him have been left in the past. Although it took her a little while to fix her messy heart, the sudden news of his brand new proposal practically catapulted Natasha into officially feeling nothing for him. But, whenever she tells the story to somebody, she’s always hit with a pitiful look. Everyone always tells her the same things: I’m so sorry, and, I couldn’t imagine how I’d feel, and, you’ll find someone much better than him.

She didn’t want Harry to look at her that way. She didn’t want to hear her name fall from his lips at the end of one of those sentences.

“You’re asking a lot of questions,” Natasha says, deflecting.

Harry pauses, knowing.

“Didn’t mean to overstep,” Harry says, holding up his hands in surrender.

Natasha just shakes her head, takes another bite, and racks her brain for anything else to say to take the attention away from herself and her failing relationship.

“So, what about you? Where are you hiding the ring?” She asks, noticing the way Harry practically chokes on his chicken and rice.

“Sorry?” He’s completely confused.

“Your wedding ring. I assumed you didn’t work with it, which is smart, because it’ll practically get ruined with all the hammering and sawing you do. Plus, you’re always on the phone in hushed conversations, and Rory and Gareth are always talking about the pretty girl you never shut up about, so I assumed…” Natasha’s voice trails off as she notices the pained look fall across Harry’s face.

For the first time in a long time, she’s said too much.

“Why do you assume I’m married?” Is what Harry chooses to ask her.

She’s grown quiet, unsure of how to respond. “Well, you’re in your thirties. And you’ve recently renovated a home in Chiswick. Most people who live in Chiswick plan on having children to fill those rooms up.” Natasha suddenly starts wondering if her logic is flawed.

The pained expression on his face grows bigger, and she watches as he gently places his fork against the glass bowl, seemingly finished with his lunch.

“I was in a relationship. We were together for awhile, and I was planning on surprising her with the house in Chiswick because I was ready for the next step. She wasn’t. She left and I spent a year renovating a house that had three bedrooms next to a school by myself.” He stands up, walking halfway towards the door before turning around and looking at Natasha.

“Is that what you wanted to hear?” He says, anger radiating off of him.

Natasha isn’t sure how to respond.

“I—I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”

“Of course you didn’t,” Harry says sadly, shaking his head and looking down at the tiled flooring. “You never bothered to ask.”

And with that, he walks out the front door and she can hear the tires of his car skid away.

Natasha spends the rest of the night holed up in her room, typing and retyping chapter thirty. It stays unfinished.

***

Three days goes by and Natasha feels absolutely horrible. She tries to avoid going downstairs as much as she can, because she knows the second she sees Harry’s face she’ll start feeling even worse. She sneaks out the front door when she knows they’re working in the back part of her house. Instead of going to Ellory’s, she walks and walks around London. She ignores her emails, ignores her book, and starts analyzing why she’s so messed up.

It was horrible of her to assume that Harry was married. He’s spent the past few weeks drinking coffee and chatting with her, and he was the closest thing she had to a friend in a long time. All of her other friends were Will’s friends, sans Ellory, so when they broke up and he left, they stopped inviting her around.

Harry was the first person who actually tried to get to know her. And Natasha kept continuously keeping him at arm’s length. She didn’t want him to ask the questions that everybody else asks, but thinking about it all now, she knows that Harry would never look at her the same way the rest of them did.

She was forced into a world she didn’t fit into. She was simply Natasha, a girl who loves to write, can sometimes forget to make her bed, and always puts too much sugar in her tea. She ignores her scary editor and she can only make stir fry and scrambled eggs, and she spent the last few years of her life feeling vastly insignificant compared to Will and his elitist friends. She shouldn’t have made assumptions about Harry, because that’s what people have been doing about her for the better part of her twenties.

There’s a reason why her writing increased tenfold when things were going well with Harry. He was kind and beautiful and inspired her, and now that things are shit, her writing has been horrible. She’s having trouble connecting words into sentences and she knows that’s because she needs to set things straight with Harry.

When she gets to her front door, she doesn’t even stop to pull it shut completely. She’s on a mission, her legs dragging her down the hallway before she can even peel her trainers off her feet. She enters the room without saying hello to Rory and Gareth—instead she eyes the curly headed boy in the corner, leveling shelves before she calls out his name.

She watches his body turn rigid. Rory and Gareth look between the two of them as if they know too much. They try and get back to work, but Natasha can feel their eyes on her. Harry lowers the leveler and looks at her with a blank look on his face.

“Can I talk to you, please?” She asks, and she’s pretty sure he only agrees because he can hear the desperation in her voice.

He follows her out into the back garden, past the tools and materials and into the verandah. Most of the time she sits here with a book and a warm mug of tea and forgets about the world for awhile. But now, she’s hyper aware of Harry’s eyes on her frame, and suddenly she feels much smaller than usual.

“I’m sorry,” she mutters, brown eyes meeting green.

“Natasha—”

“No let me finish.” Harry’s lips shut tight and he nods slowly, watching Natasha take a deep breath in and out.

“I was wrong. I shouldn’t have assumed anything about you. The reason I asked you to renovate my office was because it used to be my fiancé’s. It didn’t work out, it was all too much, and then a few months later he was engaged to someone else.” She pauses, waiting for the look of pity, the awkward apology, the acknowledgement of her sadness.

Instead, his eyes are focused on hers. And she continues.

“I wasted too much time with him. He made me out to be this person I wasn’t, and whenever I was with him, I felt inferior. It felt like I had to dim my shine so he could glow the brightest for the both of us. I was so stupid, ya know?”

Harry doesn’t answer, and she doesn’t expect him to.

“I chose this house. Our agreement was that he got the office. But when he left, it took me a while to figure myself out. And then when I heard he was getting married, I changed everything back to the way I wanted. I got new linens. I bought new mugs. The last thing was the office.” Her eyes are downcast, staring at her Nike’s. She knows that Harry probably wasn’t expecting her to unload all of this on her, but she needed to do it.

Suddenly, she sees the toes of his leather work boots touching her black trainers. Her eyes shoot up and Harry is standing right in front of her, closer than ever before, and he’s looking at her so intensely and she feels warm all over.

“Thank you for telling me that,” he says so softly that Natasha has to lean in to hear him.

“I, uh—you’re welcome. I should’ve told you that a few days ago, to be fair,” Natasha replies, her cheeks feeling flushed.

Before he can say another word, or possibly step a few inches closer so their lips are touching, Gareth calls out Harry’s name and she can almost hear the whine lodged in his throat. He looks as if he doesn’t want to leave, as if he’s anchored down to the flooring of the verandah, but Gareth calls out again and Natasha just tells him that he should go, and their warm bubble is suddenly popped.

That night, Natasha writes three more chapters and has the best sleep of her life.

***

Before Natasha can even comprehend, it’s the last day of the remodel. When she wakes up, Harry is waiting for her by the foyer like usual. She makes him his black coffee and she drinks her tea, and just before they part ways until the afternoon for lunch, Harry asks her if she could step out for the day until they were completely finished.

“Are you hiding something from me?” Natasha asks, cocking her head to the side and trying to persuade Harry into telling her. She hates surprises, and was never fond of them growing up. So whatever Harry had up his sleeve, she wanted to know.

He just gives her that grin of hers she’s grown to love. “No more questions. I’ll see you at five.” And with that, he places his hand on her lower back and shoves her gently towards the stairs.

“You’re infuriating,” Natasha says, lying through her teeth.

“And no peeking on your way out!” Harry shouts from the back of her house.

Natasha begrudgingly obliges, deciding to spend the rest of her day at Ellory’s house with Maude. For the first time in a while, she goes over without her laptop. Instead, she brings a children’s book for Maude, and the three of them spend the afternoon playing games and running around. When Maude goes down for a nap and it’s just Ellory and Natasha lounging on the sofa, Ellory finally acknowledges her good mood.

“What’s got your spirits so high? Or should I dare say, who?” Natasha just laughs, shaking her head to try and distract from the growing redness creeping up her neck and settling on her cheeks.

“It’s nothing, El. For once, I’m just letting things happen without planning beforehand,” Natasha explains, this time actually believing herself.

“Well, I for one am excited,” Ellory says, grabbing her best friend’s hand and giving it a tight squeeze. No matter what happens in Natasha’s life, she’s always been grateful for Ellory’s love and support. And sometimes, that’s all you can ask for.

With four creeping up, Natasha starts getting anxious. Maude overheard Ellory and Natasha talking about the renovation, and she can sense her mother’s excitement in the air. She starts begging Natasha to let them come see it with her.

“Of course, Maude. You’re always welcome at my house.” Maude grins and wraps her arms around Natasha’s neck, and just like that, she feels her anxiousness settle.

Ellory wraps Maude up in a trench coat, and the three of them tread over towards Natasha’s townhouse. Natasha keeps clicking the lock screen on to check the time every thirty seconds, and Ellory just stays quiet, eyeing her best friend suspiciously. Maude is positioned between the two, her small hands grasping one of Ellory’s and Natasha’s.

When they reach the front door, Rory and Gareth are settling into the white Styles & Co. van on the street. Natasha walks up to the window, knocks gently, and waits for Rory to push the button to lower it.

“Miss Natasha,” Rory says with a smile. Natasha grins back, and there’s no denying that she’s grown fond of these two men the past two weeks.

“I guess this is it, boys,” she says sadly, watching as Gareth gives her a knowing look.

“I’m sure you’ll see us around, lass.” Natasha just rolls her eyes, because of course they know that she’s grown extra fond of their boss. They have been watching them for weeks now, laughing to themselves and saying more with just looks between the two of them than words ever could.

“Thanks again for everything,” Natasha says sincerely.

Rory just grins, reaching out and giving her forearm a squeeze. Words aren’t needed.

“Auntie Tasha, come on! Let’s go see!” Maude calls out impatiently from the front steps. Ellory is still holding onto her hand, but her eyes are on Natasha with an amused look.

Natasha walks by them and reaches for the door, feeling Maude wrap her tiny arms around her left leg. She grins down at the toddler before grabbing her hand and dragging her into the foyer, discarding her coat and boots at the door.

“Five on the dot,” Natasha hears from down the hallway. She starts to smile immediately, hearing Maude ask Ellory in the background who that voice was. Ellory looks just as confused as her daughter, and suddenly, Harry is in front of them.

He’s wearing dark jeans and a light patterned button down shirt, opened enough so that Natasha can see his thin white tank top underneath. For the first time since knowing him, he’s wearing Chelsea boots instead of his work boots. He looks even more handsome dressed up, and Natasha can’t help but blush when looking at him.

“Who’s this?” Ellory asks, although she can already tell that this is the boy who’s made her best friend unequivocally happy these past few weeks. Harry extends a hand in greeting, and Ellory looks at Natasha with a smirk on her face.

Maude is hiding behind Natasha’s leg, hand still wrapped around her kneecap.

“Maude, do you want to say hello to my friend?” Natasha whispers, watching as Maude’s big blue eyes look up at her, then over to Harry, then back to her.

She nods before walking in front of Natasha. Harry crouches down so he’s eye level with Maude, and Natasha can’t help but feel the swell in her heart.

“Hi there, I’m Harry,” he says, gently sticking his hand out to shake.

Maude wraps two of her hands around one of his, shaking it up and down a few times until she giggles quietly. “Hi Hawwy. I’m Maude.”

“That’s a pretty name. How old are you?” he asks, grinning when her personality starts to shine through in front of him.

“Fwee! Auntie Tasha says I’m the best fwee year old she’s met,” Maude announces, and Natasha grins down as Harry’s green eyes meet hers.

“I’m sure your Auntie Tasha is right.”

Maude begins to babble and Ellory reaches out to grab her hand, shushing her so that Harry can show them the office. He leads the way, and Natasha starts feeling butterflies flutter in the pits of her stomach. She’s not sure if it’s from Harry or the office or both, but she can practically hear her heartbeat in her ears.

Just before the office comes into view, Harry stops short and Natasha almost runs right into his back.

“I hope you don’t mind,” Harry starts, “but I found some boxes in the storage room and I figured an author should have a library so, I sort of took the liberty of making you your own bookshelf.” He looked bashful, but curiosity was eating her alive, because she knows exactly what boxes Harry’s talking about.

They were the culmination of her favorite books since she was a child. Collecting books was what made her want to write her own, and her tiny flat in the middle of London was filled to the brim with them. But when she moved into the Mayfair house with Will, he only offered her the bookshelf near the kitchen nook that only held about fifteen novels. She had kept the rest stowed away in the storage room, allowing them to fill with dust, unused.

When Natasha steps around Harry and the office comes into light, she’s floored. Her hand shoots up to her mouth in awe, and she can practically hear her heart beating out of her chest.

The original brick flooring that Will had covered up in favor of a more traditional hardwood look was finally given the light of day. Surrounding the wooden door on each side was an archway of bookshelves, curving around the door. It had seven shelves on each side with an eighth over top in the middle, each filled to the brim with all of Natasha’s books.

“Harry…” Natasha is not one for stunned silence, so this is a first for her.

Harry looks sheepish as Maude ogles at the sheer amount of books. “Mummy, is this every book in the world?”

“In Natasha’s world, my love,” Ellory responds quietly, watching her best friend in awe.

Natasha walks through the door and the room is lighter than anywhere else in the house. It reminds her of the verandah in the back garden that she’s grown to love, filled with white wood and green plants. The coffee table has new glass, the love seat and matching chairs are tan and pale yellow respectively. Her actual office desk is white and vast and exceptional. Her laptop and desktop are placed up top, with her best selling books framed on the side. A giant blush pink office chair sits on wheels with her favorite bay window behind her.

She’s absolutely floored. Maude being the toddler that she is runs straight into the room, gasping at everything in awe. She tries to climb on the desk chair and Natasha can see Ellory begin to scold her daughter, but all she can think about is Harry.

Harry.

She turns around and he’s right where she’s left him. His bashfulness has grown to sheepish, and with one enormous grin, she runs towards him and engulfs him in the biggest hug she could muster.

He leans back, surprised at the gesture, but then his strong arms snake around her back and settle on her tailbone. Her arms are locked around his neck, and she can feel him bend down and breathe into the crook of her neck.

“I don’t know what to say other than thank you,” she whispers, her lips falling over the swallows tattooed under his collarbone due to their height difference.

“You’re welcome, Natasha.” There’s her name again, falling beautifully past his lips. She removes her hands from his neck and leans back so she can look into his deep green eyes. They’re standing close to each other again, just like they were in the verandah, but this time they both have no desire to let go.

“The bookshelf—I just. It means so much to me. I don’t know how to repay you,” Natasha says breathlessly.

Harry just smiles softly. “You deserve it, Natasha. You don’t have to repay me. I wanted to do this for you.”

Before she could react, Maude suddenly appears below them, her tiny fist tugging at the bottom of Harry’s jeans.

“Do you think you could make me a bookshelf, Hawwy?” Maude asks shyly.

Natasha looks at Ellory, and for the first time in five years she actually feels something. She feels excited, she feels hopeful, she feels as if everything is starting to make sense to her. And Ellory knows this, and she looks at her best friend with the warmest smile she could muster.

Harry is crouched down in front of Maude. “Of course I can. Whatever you want.”

Harry looks up and Natasha is giving her a look that he hasn’t seen before. He can feel Maude giggle excitedly in front of him, her little hands leaning on his thighs, but all he can think about is Natasha and her brown eyes.

“Stop looking at me like that,” he jokes, standing up and wrapping his arms around her body again.

“I can’t help it, I’m just really happy,” Natasha replies, feeling the light inside of her burn brighter than ever before.

And for the first time in a long time, Harry can feel it too, and together they shine brighter than the sun.

#majorharry20k #harrystylesfanfiction #harrystyles #new fic #1dff #updates

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biznichwrites · 4 years

Text

Ask: Okay, Biz, please hear me out. May I please have Giyuu being in a one-sided love affair with his longtime lover? Like he knows the score so he tries not to rock the boat, but he can’t deny the fact that she makes him feel so happy and alive. Until one day she just drops out of his life; no explanation. (1/2)

So he tries to go on while lowkey still searching for her. Then one day he finds out that she cut all ties with him so she could die without him knowing— to avoid hurting him more. And then Giyuu vows to live a lonely and loveless existence bc she was the only woman he’d ever loved. Also, for more pain, two words: Unborn. Baby. Thank you, Biz!!! ✨ (2/2)

@dudeandduchess I hope you like the pain 😎👌✨

His heart broke at the idea of her disappearing. Every time he passed by the village she lived in he tried to find her to no avail. Had he done something so bad she left without a trace? He knew he never expressed himself to her, how much he loved her, but he expected at least some warning before she left.

Days turned to weeks which turned into months. He felt the happiness she'd given him begin to crumble and leave a weight in his chest. He must have done something for her to hate him, he was sure of it. He hated himself for causing such a thing, even more for not telling her of the adoration that grew for her every moment they spent together.

Despite his awkward social interactions, he began to ask the villagers where she had gone. He was desperate for answers. No matter how far she had gone he would follow her - he would prove himself to her.

When the villagers told him she had died he didn't believe them. There was no way she was gone - he kept a close eye on demons in the area and slayed any the moment they popped up. She hadn't seemed ill in all the times he'd seen her.

He took to breaking into her home. Was it the right thing to do? No. Did he care? Not in the least, especially if she was on the other side of the blocked door. When he finally made his way in he found everything dusty, desolate and clearly abandoned. Yet when he walked into her room he found her clothing still in place, futon still on the floor and most of her items still in place.

He found a small yukata, tiny as they could be made and other items made for children. Maybe someone with a child had visited. It was odd.

Placed atop her chest of clothing sat an envelope, covered thickly by dust as if waiting for him to find his way inside. It was addressed to him after all. He opened it, his hands shaking as he read the contents. Inside were letters from different days, seeming to stretch from the time of her disappearance to her death. Every day or two she wrote to him without fail, yet never sent them.

In the letters she explained she cared for him and was sorry for leaving without a word, but she was sure he didn't want a child out of wedlock with someone he didn't love. She couldn't do that to him. If she really loved him then she would let him free.

His eyes watered seeing that she didn't believe she would survive childbirth and she couldn't ask someone like him to care for a child that he never asked for. She felt as if she'd be in the way, if not stress him more than she was worth given her illness. She would be no use to him and she did her best to not burden him when they saw each other.

As the weeks went on her letters described how she was sorry to him that she never said goodbye, how she wanted to see him one last time. Her body grew weaker, her organs struggling to support her normally, much less with a baby.

One of the latest letters detailed that she thinks the baby isn't making it, that she wasn't strong enough to keep either of them alive. Over and over she called herself a failure and begged that he'd forgive her for not being good enough to manage the task every other woman seemed to be able to do.

The last letter was written roughly, almost as if she wasn't able to focus. She was having a miscarriage, there was a lot of blood and she was scared. There wasn't much left on the blank page, just the bottom filled with the writing "I love you and I'll miss you."

His heart felt as if was simultaneously in his stomach and being ripped from his chest. The love of his life and a child of his own blood ripped from him simultaneously broke him in a way he hadn't felt before, those two being the only connections that hadn't been shattered by death in the past.

He blamed himself. It was his fault - had he found her sooner and tried harder he would have been there for her. He could have taken her to Shinobu that could have given her treatment like no other, he could have kept her and possibly the child alive. But he hadn't been dedicated enough, he had let her die by his own negligence. If he really did love her, then what did that love amount to if he couldn't even do anything for her?

He did the math on the dates of the letters she wrote to find they ended a couple of months prior. He was just two months too late - after spending the better half of a year looking for her. If he put more effort in he could have at least been by her side. Even worse is that the child would have been born just about the time he arrived, give a few days.

His hands found the dusted yukata and held it in his hands. It was a pastel tone, smaller than he could have ever imagined a human to ever be. Would the child look like her or him? Or a mix? Was it even a boy or girl? His stomach twisted at the thought.

His hands found a kimono of hers, one of the ones she had for so long it was thread baren and narrowly held together by her mending. But it was hers, and despite how tattered others viewed it, he found her still beautiful behind the clothing others would have thrown out. She outshined all of it. Or had at one point. Even when he bought her a new one she kept the older dress, only wearing the one he gave her for special occasions.

For the first time in years he cried, clutching the child's yukata and the old kimono to his chest. It still smelled like her vaguely, even through the scent of stale air and dust. Heart wrenching sobs filled her home, echoing off the dead walls as he felt what was left of his heart shatter.

He took her belongings with him. Her few pieces of jewelry, her and the baby's clothing - he was more selfish with memoirs this time. He kept a piece of her with him at all times, just as he did with his sister and Sabito. As he hung her kimono in his room, along with the one of their child below, he vowed to never look away from her again. She had his heart, even in death.

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alexhogh7137 · 3 years

Text

The Battle Between Love and Fire-

Ivar the Boneless × Reader

Chapter Forty-Two

Chapter Forty-Three: The Midday Vision

Word Count 2.9k

Warnings: angst, mentions of physical harm

A week has gone by and you have been watching Daario's movements like a dragon stalking its prey. Hvitserk laughs at you for it but this is your people's lives at stake here, and you will watch him until you leave Wessex. Until that day, he will be under your radar. Ivar has been sending letters back and forth since the day you got to England, but you have only written him twice. So that is what you will do today, write to your beloved while Hvitserk takes on your responsibilities for an hour or so.

Hvitserk "He is probably worried sick-"

"I know, I know. It just has slipped my mind. I feel horrible!"

Hvitserk "I am sure that he is fine, kitten. I will watch Daario while you write your letters. Come find me when you are done, yes?"

"Of course."

Hvitserk "Good," he kisses your lips before taking a step back, "I love you."

"I love you too." And then he shut the door behind him and left you to your thoughts.

You gathered your writing instruments and sat down at your table. You thought of what to say and how to say it for a good while before you actually put your pen to the parchment. Eventually, you took a deep breath and began to write:

Dear Ivar,

Please forgive me for not writing back sooner, my priorities have been taking up my time and writing has just left my mind. I have taken your advice and have been watching Daario's every move and as of now, he has been staying true to his word. He has been kind and gentle to my people, he has been teaching the young to fight, and has been guiding people in my village. Hvitserk has changed his opinion on the man, which puts my mind at ease quite a bit. I hope that you have been well, my love. I miss you dearly. I plan to be home by the weeks end, if not sooner. I love you Ivar, see you soon my king.

Yours, Y/n.

You hurried your way down the stairs to reach your letter carrier and he left with great haste. You smile as you look behind you to see your dragon's. You walk your way to Ryuu, Neith and Eldr, and you sit down beside them all.

"I miss your daddy, y'know." Eldr scuffs some heat out of his mouth. "What?! I do. This is the longest I have ever gone without seeing Ivar." Eldr places his head down by your feet, for you to feel some comfort. "We will go home soon, my loves. Just one more day or so, I just need to make absolutely sure-"

Daario "That what..?" You jolt up and look behind you, "that I won't burn this place to the ground."

"I'm sorry-"

Daario "No, don't be. If you weren't watching me like a hawk, then you would not be a good queen. I respect you Y/n."

"Thank you."

Daario "So, you really talk to them do you?"

"Of course I do. They understand me and I understand them."

Daario "Oh yeah? Are they talking now-"

"I know that you must find it absurd but-"

Daario "Not at all. I am just trying to understand this whole dragon thing. Before I met you, I thought that dragon's were a myth."

You giggle, "Well as you can see, they are very much real."

Daario chuckles, "Yes they are."

"So mainly it is all psychological. When I look into their eyes, I can tell what they are saying."

Daario "That is a true gift."

"Mmm," you look up at Neith, "I got to raise them, that is the true gift."

Daario "I swear, you are the most selfless person I have ever met. Especially given the fact that you rule over two kingdoms."

"Thank you, but I only rule over Wessex. My husband rules Kattegat."

Daario "I am confused."

"I only feel that I rule over England, I do not feel like I rule over Kattegat."

Daario "Well in that case, I am more than grateful to lead by your side in England, my queen."

"Well technically-"

Daario "I know, you won't be here.." you nod, "but it's still a nice thought to think about." You pause but you feel a pair of familiar hands grab the small of your back.

Hvitserk "There you are! I've been looking everywhere for the two of you."

"Sorry Hvitserk, Daario was just asking me about my dragon's."

Hvitserk "Oh yeah? They are incredible aren't they?"

Daario "Truly. I guess I should go and check on everyone. It was lovely talking to you."

"You as well Naharis.." you watch him walk away and join your people at one of your homes.

Hvitserk "He got a little too close there..for my liking."

"Flirting, but he is a man Hvitserk. He can't help himself."

Hvitserk "I warned him not to ever-"

"I believe you. But look at me," he looks away from Daario and down into your eyes, "We are going home soon, and he will be far away from all of us, okay?"

Hvitserk sighs, "Fine."

"I don't wish for your day to be ruined over a little flirt."

Hvitserk "It's not, kit..I just don't like when people look at you like you are a meal. It infuriates me. After all you've been through, I find it my life's duty to protect you." You pull him in for a warm yet hard embrace and hold him close for a while.

"You do protect me Hvitserk. You keep me safe and warm..and loved." He smiles, "Ever since the day we met, you've kept me safe. But once our daughter is here, I need you to protect her more than me."

Hvitserk "I-"

"Promise me Hvitserk." He loses eye contact, "Our daughter's life comes first. No matter what, you keep our daughter safe."

Hvitserk "I swear it, Y/n. But that does not mean that I won't not protect you."

"Of course it doesn't. But if there ever comes a day where it is between me or our daughter to save, save our little girl." Hvitserk looks away to hide his tear that was falling from his eyelid. He quickly wipes it away and clears his throat before looking back at you.

Hvitserk "I will." You smile and nod, "But let us pray to the gods that there will never come a day where I have to save only one of you.."

"Yes. Now, let us have a good day today."

Hvitserk "With you, it's always a good day."

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

Back in Kattegat:

Ivar has been having sleepless nights without you in his arms. He has been worrying nonstop, waiting for you to write back to him. He has gone to Ubbe, asking for his guidance but he has been brushing him off and telling him, "she's with Hvitserk, she is fine." He knows that is a fact, but he also knows that something could have happened to the both of you. So he waits and waits for your letter to arrive. As he waits, he sits on his throne, motionless. When all of a sudden, he hears none other than his own brother scream out his name from outside those double doors. He is in a panic that he crawls his way to the doors instead of walking to them. He looks around and does not see his brother so to save time, he gets into his carriage and commands his horse to ride to the noise. When he finds Ubbe, he is sitting on the ground with tears in his eyes.

Ivar "Ubbe, what is it?!"

Ubbe "It is Y/n. Something is going to happen to her-"

Ivar "What are you talking about?"

Ubbe "A vision Ivar. I had a vision-"

Ivar "A vision..during the day?"

Ubbe "Yes, brother. We both know that that has never happened to us before."

Ivar "Tell me.."

Ubbe "There is this woman. I could see her like I am seeing you right now. She goes into their chambers Ivar.." Ivar's eyes start to water as he anticipates what he is about to say next. "She takes Hvitserk's dagger and.." Torvi's eyes are red from crying, as she looks up at Ivar.

Ivar "And what?"

Ubbe "She kills them both." Ivar's tears overflow now. "She goes to the extent of slitting her belly..Ivar. She kills all of them."

Ivar "I, how..what?" He is in shock and he cannot truly make out what to say.

Ubbe "We need to go Ivar, we are losing the sun!"

Ivar "Did you see her face?"

Ubbe "Wha-yes! Ivar we need to go! If we wait any longer, we won't make it by nightfall!" Ivar does not waste anymore time before he rides out of Kattegat, heading straight to you. Ubbe hurries his men to join him while Torvi takes over Kattegat.

Torvi "Come on boys..please save them..please save them." She says over and over as she cries, fearing that they will not make it to England in time.

~•~

Ivar looks up at the sky as he forces his horse to run like the wind, seeing the sun fade away and into the horizon. He fears that he will be too late and he would see his family gone, right in front of his eyes. He knew by the sound of his brother's screams that it had to deal with his wife. Why else would he scream? Why else would he be on his knees, crying? You are loved, Hvitserk is loved, and your unborn child is loved so much that the thought of losing you three is bone chilling.

Ivar "Come on...COME ON!" He continues to hit his horse but the horse is physically incapable of going any faster but he cannot help himself. He is out of breath, even though he is not the one running. His heart is already in pain with the picture in his mind of how horrible it would be to witness such a scene.

Ubbe "We're not going to make it, brother!" He shouted from his horse that is racing beside his carriage.

Ivar "We are going to make it!" He shouted back at him. His voice cracking from the sadness he is trying to hide. If anyone has to be strong, it is him. And he will be strong, and he will make it. He has too.

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

Wessex England:

As the sun settled behind your kingdom and below the hills surrounding it, you felt the sense of unease. So as a gut instinct, you stay very close to Hvitserk. Practically joint at his hip. Daario notices your change in behavior and immediately goes on high alert.

Hvitserk "Y/n, are you alright? You seem frightened."

"I have this unnerving feeling."

Hvitserk "Tell me what you are feeling."

"I have this sickening feeling and almost an electrical pain going across my belly.."

Hvitserk "What?!"

"I already looked, there is nothing there."

Hvitserk "Is sh-"

"She's still kicking..yes."

Hvitserk "Then why are you feeling this?"

"I am not sure. I just feel like something is coming. I just don't know what."

Hvitserk "I don't want you out of my sight, do you hear me?"

"I'm not going anywhere, you asked what was wrong so I was not going to hide what I have been feeling since the sun went down."

Hvitserk "Well, I believe you Y/n. I'm not going to let anything happen to you-"

"Funny.."

Hvitserk "What?"

"I was just telling you if it ever came down to me or our daughter, save our daughter."

Hvitserk "She is still in your womb, kitten...so right now, I am watching over you."

"What did I ever do to deserve such a protector?"

Hvitserk "Just you being you. Anyone who meets you loves you Y/n. Everyone who meets you wishes to protect you."

"Why? I don't understand that. I am just an normal person-"

Hvitserk "It is because you have been through so much trauma that you did not deserve, everyone is aware and wishes to give you a new and safe life. And you are far from normal Y/n. You are a mother of dragons, how is that normal?" He bursts out laughing and so do you.

"I guess you are right. I love you, you know that."

Hvitserk "Of course I do."

"Good." You rest your head on his shoulder and rest your mind. That is until you hear a woman shout behind you. Hvitserk takes out his sword and so do the guards that are around you at all times. You find Daario holding a woman by her mouth, keeping her silent.

"Daario! What is the meaning of this!?"

Daario "She was going to kill you!" He holds up the dagger that she had in her hand. You walk up to her, to conform Daario's own words.

"Is this true?" She does not answer at first, but she nods because her mouth is still covered by Daario's large hand. You look up at him, confused. "But why did you wish to harm your queen?" She forces Daario's hand off of her mouth and Hvitserk holds his sword up to her throat.

Hvitserk "Try anything, and you'll meet your precious God in the matter of seconds."

"I am unarmed-" she said.

Daario "Yeah, you are now-"

"What was your reason?!"

"You should not be queen! Any spawn of your fathers will destroy this kingdom and its people. This kingdom needs new blood, new reigns..not you." She said with a straight face.

"I am sorry that you feel that way. But I am nothing like my father. I love my people and I love my kingdom, I would never do anything to put it in jeopardy."

"Funny, that is what your father used to say-"

"I burned my father alive." She takes a step back. "I am not my father. I got rid of my father. I am aware of what he has done, who he has killed..I am also aware of everything that he has done to me, to which I think that you have no idea about." She does not respond, "So do not kill someone who is trying to save her kingdom. Do not kill someone who loves her people."

"..I..I am sorry." She finally said, but before you could answer, you hear horses coming from behind you and by your gate.

"Hvitserk.."

Hvitserk "Get behind me." Daario lets go of the girl and gets beside Hvitserk to guard you. Your dragon's fly to the top of your palace to get a clear shot if you demand them to kill.

"Wh-is that..Ivar!?" Hvitserk puts away his sword and sighs out of relief to see his brother's instead of a whole unexpected army. "What is he doing here?" You walk up to your husbands carriage, confused.

"Ivar, what are you-" he pulls you into his chest, stopping you from talking. He is shaking and he is sobbing.

Ivar "I made it..oh gods, I made it."

"You knew?..How did you-"

Ubbe "Hey sis." And then it clicked, he must have had a vision.

"What did you see Ubbe?"

Ubbe "I saw that woman," he points to the woman that is being held back by Daario, "come into your chambers and kill the three of you."

"Our chambers..but it just happened?"

Ubbe nods, "Sometimes visions are not exact, but they show the true fate of the one's that you love."

Ivar "So this is the woman."

"Ivar-" He does not listen to you. He makes his way passing his brother and grabbing the woman by her throat, shoving her up against the wall of your palace.

"..please..don't kill me.." she tries to get out.

Ivar "If you ever try to kill my wife, my brother..and my unborn child again, I will crucify you..do you understand me?" She cries out, agreeing and pleading for her life. "The only reason why your neck is not broken is because my wife is behind me. And I know that she would not wish to see you die. She has too good of a heart."

"I am so sorry, my queen." You do not respond, only stare. "Please forgive me. I was not thinking, I was only remembering all that your father put my family through!"

"Understood, Ivar..let her go." He lets go over her throat and she runs to you, kneeling her your feet.

"Please..forgive me. I am truly sorry!" She said, crying and shouting for forgiveness.

"Please stand." She does so and you take her hands in yours, "I forgive you. But I need you to think before you act. If Daario was not here to stop you, me and my child would be dead by your impulse. Think before you act and only act if you have facts and knowledge on the person you wish to kill."

"My queen, I am so-"

"I have already told you that you have been forgiven. I will give you a second chance, please do not fail me."

"Yes, my queen."

"Go to your mother." She runs away and rejoins her mother and siblings. You look in front of you and see Ivar, Hvitserk and Daario shocked but proud.

"Hello..my beloved." He couldn't help himself from giggling.

Ivar "Hello, my sweetheart."

@hvitserkmarcosource @heavenly1927 @saldelys @youbloodymadgenius @ivarsgoddess @conaionaru @readsalot73 @a-mess-of-fandoms @houseoftoomanyfandoms @dreamycream17 @nevlahhh @krissydclayton93

#alex hogh andersen #vikings #hvitserk #ivar the boneless #ubbe lothbrok #marco ilsø #hvitserk lothbrok #the battle between love and fire

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priorireverte · 3 years

Photo

Congratulations Ashley!

Your application for Andromeda Tonks has been accepted. She’s going to have a lot to deal with. At least it looks like her spouse is on the horizon soon! Unless that just causes more problems.

Please look to the checklist for the next steps and reach out if you have any questions!

OUT OF CHARACTER

NAME & PRONOUNS: Ashley / she/her

TIMEZONE: EST

ACTIVITY LEVEL: I would consider myself to be fairly active! I work a full-time job which is 3 12 hour shifts per week, so I’m usually not around on those days other than mobile. However, I’m usually always around on discord if needed. On my days off, I’m always active unless something else comes up!

ANYTHING ELSE: N/A to triggers! I’ve been writing and roleplaying since 2006 aka the days of myspace. I’ve been roleplaying on tumblr and in the Harry Potter community since 2009. Also ! My rp partner is applying for Ted and we’ve discussed their background together and are a cohesive unit, LOL!

CHARACTER DETAILS

NAME: Andromeda Dorea Tonks (nee Black)

BIRTHDATE: 12 February, 1954

DEATHDATE: N/A

GENDER, PRONOUNS, and SEXUALITY: Cisfemale, she/her, pansexual

BLOOD STATUS: Pureblood

HOUSE ALUMNI: Slytherin

OCCUPATION: Healer at St. Mungo’s. After the deaths of her husband and her daughter, Andromeda only remained on as part time staff due to her commitment to raising her grandson. With her son-in-law back from the dead and expecting his son, Andromeda has picked up more shifts to distract herself from her mixed bag of feelings.

FACECLAIM: Rachel Weisz

CHARACTER BACKGROUND

POSTBELLUM

War is ruinous. It’s evil and endless. It’s something that Andromeda has learned. Now, she’s lived through two wars and managed to lose almost everything. During the first war, Andromeda refused to choose a side. She remained strictly neutral. Supporting the Death Eaters was what her family expected from her. However, she didn’t share the same beliefs. Supporting the Order, however, felt like the ultimate betrayal. Something that she couldn’t explain. So, she remained neutral. When the second war began to brew, she supported the Order because of her daughter’s involvement as an auror. She and Ted were never official members of the Order, but they helped where they could. This later led to the both of them being tortured for information by Death Eaters. The two were shaken, but otherwise okay, thankfully. Andromeda didn’t turn her back on the Order after this. If anything, it only made her support stronger.

When Nymphadora learned that she was pregnant, Andromeda was overjoyed, but afraid just the same. Edward went on the run due to the persecution of muggleborns and Andromeda had never been so afraid in her life. Ted was the only family that she’d had. The only person that she’d relied on for years. When the news of Edward’s death came, Andromeda tried her best to keep a brave face in front of others. She knew that the war was far from over and she couldn’t bear to upset her pregnant daughter.

Nymphadora gave birth to a bouncing baby boy and everything seemed right, if only for a moment. They honored Edward in the name and he had equal parts of her daughter and son-in-law. Andromeda begged Nymphadora to stay home, to not go to the Battle of Hogwarts, but she went anyways. The news of her daughter’s death at her sister’s hands broke Andromeda completely. She had a newborn, now, that she was responsible for and in the first few months of his life, she wasn’t sure who cried more.

If it weren’t for Teddy, Andromeda doesn’t know if she would have been able to go on. Her grandson gave her life purpose. She had reminders of the two people that she loved most and Teddy became the third. She’s taken to part time at the hospital while she’s cared for him the past couple of years.

The news of the dead coming back is all the rage and Andromeda is skeptical. Despite the skepticism, she was also hopeful for a very brief second. Then, she was disappointed and then her anger took another turn. She hoped for her husband. For her daughter. For her cousin. So far, she’s gotten none of them. The news of Remus being back has placed a pit inside her stomach that she can’t handle. She wants to be happy, but she also abhors the thought of losing her only link to her daughter, to her husband. She doesn’t know how she’s going to cope.

PERSONALITY

(+) Ambitious: Andromeda excels at anything she puts her mind to and more. Failure is not an option for her. It is a trait that she learned from her father.

(+) Eloquent: Growing up in one of the pureblood elitist families, Andromeda was taught how to be very persuasive. She knows how to use this trait and although she doesn’t use it much, it is always in her back pocket when she needs it.

(-) Stubborn: Andromeda’s stubbornness will one day more than likely get her into trouble. When she decides on something, it is rare that she changes her mind. She does not like to admit that she is wrong and rarely does so.

(-) Conflicted: Andromeda knew that befriending muggleborns would upset her family. It was against the beliefs that she had always been taught. Since her Hogwarts days, she was always incredibly conflicted. She felt a strong sense of duty to her family, but felt unable to meet their demands. When she fell in love with Ted, she knew it was the final nail in her coffin. Andromeda no longer struggles with the choices that she made. She sticks with them. However, she will always be conflicted over the bond she still feels towards her family.

ENFJ – The Giver - “Popular and sensitive, with outstanding people skills. Externally focused, with real concern for how others think and feel. Usually, dislike being alone. They see everything from the human angle, and dislike impersonal analysis. Interested in serving others, and probably place the needs of others over their own needs.”

Andromeda has the fatal flaw in which she decides that others needs are more important than her own. It was only magnified when she became a mother herself. Her people skills were groomed to perfection when she was forced to attend the numerous pureblood galas as a teenager. As a healer, she enjoys being able to put back together the hurt and heal those that are harmed by those closest to her blood relations.

BRIEF OVERVIEW OF FAMILY

Andromeda Dorea Tonks nee Black is the original family disappointment. Cygnus and Druella prayed for a boy the second time around and when Andromeda came out a girl, it was where the disappointment started. Growing up, she always felt like the odd one out. She wasn’t strong and fiercely loyal like Bellatrix. She wasn’t graceful and beautiful like Narcissa. She was the middle child through and through. Despite the disappointment and the short comings that she could not prevent, Andromeda’s loyalty was to her family. The Black family had a strong name within society. They were revered. A part of the sacred 28. Any child of the Black family would act like they were one.

She grew up with pureblood beliefs force-fed to her and being taught to believe nothing else, she actually thought that they were the only way of life. Andromeda was sorely mistaken, however, and she didn’t realize how much so until she met Ted Tonks. Edward Tonks changed everything for her. Ted Tonks was a muggleborn boy and although she didn’t want to admit it, she was smitten. Her resolve faded during their years at Hogwarts and eventually, she couldn’t deny the chemistry anymore. The rest of their years at Hogwarts were filled with letters written in invisible ink, heated meetings in empty classrooms, and plenty of sneaking around.

She struggled with her feelings for Ted and her loyalty to her family for years, until one day she chose Ted. She found out that she was pregnant and she knew it’d be the final nail in her coffin. Andromeda chose Edward and their unborn daughter and she was promptly burned from the Black family tree. Family is important to Andromeda; however, she’s learned over the years that chosen family can be more important than blood relatives.

Despite all of this, she still feels a sense of loyalty to Narcissa. A feeling like reconciliation wouldn’t be so bad. Bellatrix – however – she knows they’ll never repair their relationship. Not after what was done to Nymphadora.

After losing her husband and her daughter, Andromeda clings to her grandson. A reminder of what she’s lost – in the likeness and the name. The idea that she’s going to lose him too is killing her inside.

HISTORY

What was their life before the end of the war in ‘98 or before their death? What was important and formative for them?

Hogwarts: Andromeda’s early life was filled with piano lessons, ballet lessons, and etiquette training. She was to be the perfect pureblood daughter, even if she was a disappointment. Her parents spoke of their beliefs and taught them to their daughters, accepting no questions. Until Andromeda went to Hogwarts, the pureblood beliefs were all that she knew. She knew that she was above everyone else because she had pure blood and that she should never question it. The moment that she was sent to Hogwarts; everything changed. The things that her parents had taught her to believe – they simply weren’t true. The muggleborns and the halfbloods weren’t different than she was. In fact, there were some that were truly brilliant.

For the first few months of her education, she kept her nose up in the air because she knew her older sister was watching her every move. Andromeda pretended like she wasn’t curious to know more. Like she didn’t have questions. It was only the moment that Bellatrix looked away that she discovered everything she knew to be a lie.

Edward Tonks: When she met Edward Tonks for the first time, Andromeda didn’t give him a second thought. It was only after months of studying and tutoring that things began to shift. She began to think about him moreso than she’d like to admit. Their gazes would meet over the school books because neither of them was paying attention to their texts. Soon, the two began to sneak around, knowing the dangers that this posed for the both of them if they were to be caught. Thankfully, they weren’t caught until Andromeda chose Ted. She chose him over her family and never looked back.

Ted changed everything for Andromeda and she doesn’t deny a moment of it to this day.

Healing: Despite the arguments from her family, Andromeda chose to take a healing internship at St. Mungo’s after she graduated from Hogwarts. Her parents were not pleased and that was putting it lightly. Why should she work when all she needed to be good for was a quiet, proper pureblood wife and mother? Her parents had the perfect pureblood for her to marry, but Andromeda didn’t want any part of it. She decided to do what she loved and being a healer was everything that she needed. She needed to do some good in the world to cancel out all of the bad that was happening around them.

Nymphadora: Finding out that she was pregnant with her daughter was the final nail in her coffin. It was the final sign that she’d never be welcome on the Black family tree again. The moment that she found out that she was pregnant, Andromeda was terrified. She didn’t have a great relationship with her mother when she was growing up. She didn’t know how to be a mother. How could she take care of a child? Despite her fear, she told Ted and she’s not sure she’s ever seen him so happy before. Andromeda is fearful her entire pregnancy. She despises herself for it. It’s something that she hides. However, the first time that her daughter is placed in her arms, it’s something that comes naturally. Her love for her daughter is something that she can’t explain, but she knows that Nymphadora is the person that she loves the most in the world. Her new favorite job is being a mother.

All of her life, Andromeda tries to protect her daughter. From the evil things in the world. She tries to shield her from the things that will hurt her. The Black family. The war. When Nymphadora decides that she wants to be an auror, Andromeda supports her, but knows that she can’t protect her baby from everything. Inevitably, she’s unable to.

OOC EXPLORATION

WHAT ARE YOU MOST LOOKING FORWARD TO? I love the idea of this roleplay and bringing back the dead. I think it’s an amazing idea and I cannot wait to interact with others and see the interactions that will play out. I love the passion that everyone seems to have for writing and I’m excited to possibly join the fun.

ANYTHING ELSE? Pinterest: https://www.pinterest.com/sortoutherpriorities/she-walks-in-beauty-andromeda-black-tonks/ Boggart: As a child and a teenager, Andromeda’s boggart was failing her parents. As it ultimately came true, Andromeda’s boggart eventually changed to the loss of Ted and Nymphadora, which also came true. When she became the primary caregiver of her grandson, her boggart changed once again to the loss of Teddy.

#andromeda tonks #prioriacceptance

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hushedhands · 4 years

Text

Challenge 71

@everbeenminee

*Maxon, America, and two-year-old Addy visit the bakery from Chapter 30 of The Laws of Inheritance

“Please, Maxon?”

“Ames.”

“Please?” America pouted just a little, this time cradling her enormous baby bump for added effect.

Maxon sighed heavily and pinched the bridge of his nose. America was still a couple of weeks away from her due date, but that was exactly when she’d given birth to Addy. She was liable to go into labor at any second, and the stress was already gnawing away at him. Now she wanted him to authorize a family trip into town?

“Hey! Daddy’s sad!” Addy came toddling up to her father from where she’d been playing with her dolls on the other side of the common space between her parents’ bedrooms and her nursery. “No crying.” she ordered.

Maxon chuckled, “I am not crying, Birdy. See? No tears.”

Addy studied him carefully, but he was right.

America added, “Daddy’s not sad, baby bird, he’s worried.”

“Worry?” Addy wasn’t sure what this meant.

“Scared.” America clarified.

“Monsters?” Addy’s eyes widened, returning her attention to her father.

Maxon chuckled and swept his two-year-old off her feet. “No monsters. Not anymore: Daddy, Uncle Aspen, and the guards defeated them all.”

Addy was too busy giggling at finding herself suddenly horizontal in mid-air to pay much attention to his words.

Maxon returned his attention to America, “But Ames, that baby could come at any second. I don’t want to have to deliver our next baby in the back of a car.”

America tilted an eyebrow at him, amused, “You think I want to deliver our next baby in the back of a car? Wouldn’t that be worse for me than you?”

“Yes, of course—“

“Maxon, I’m not proposing a road trip across the country! It’s fifteen minutes away—“

“There could be traffic! We could have to go into lockdown—“

“So we should hide away inside our Palace in case of my immediate onset of advanced labor, combined with epic mid-afternoon traffic, and a sudden resurgence of zombie Southern Rebels?”

“I’m serious, America!”

“It doesn’t sound like it—“

Maxon frowned, ready to argue with her, when Addy started squirming in his arms. “Fly me!” she encouraged.

Maxon sighed and stood, Addy still cradled to his chest, then he started tossing her body up a foot into the air and then catching her in a cradle again. She laughed riotously. After a minute, he sat her down and asked her to play dolls a little longer while Mommy and Daddy finished their conversation.

Maxon collapsed back down on the sofa, slightly out of breath, and returned his attention to his wife. “Any trip that involves the entire royal family is a risk to all of Illéa.”

“This is a good risk. The proprietors of the shop have served the royal family for centuries, the guards know how to secure the location because I visited there a couple of years ago, and it’s very close to home.”

Maxon eyed her and her stomach with suspicion.

“Gavril thinks it would make great press. The royal family on one last outing before the arrival of a new baby…”

Maxon still wasn’t sure. For all he knew, America was in labor right now and just hiding her contractions so that she could get her way. That was exactly what she’d done with Addy.

“Maxon, if anything goes wrong we’ll cancel, of course. If it doesn’t seem safe, or if I go into labor, we’ll just come home.”

“Hmph.”

America giggled at him and reached out for his hand. She placed it on her stomach and held it there. “Come on, Max. Don’t you want some chocolate cake?”

He did want chocolate cake. He was very stressed, and chocolate cake would help tremendously.

“Are you certain the baby wants strawberry tarts?” Maxon asked, one last effort to change America’s mind. But she’d been craving these very specific strawberry tarts all week, and he already knew the answer—

“Yes.”

Well? What kind of man would he be if he denied his wife and unborn child such a simple joy?

***

Addy still couldn’t get over the fact that they weren’t going to Gramma’s house. That’s what cars were for, in her mind, because the only time she rode in one was when she was going to visit Gramma. Her parents said they were going to get treats, but Gramma had treats, so why not just go to Gramma? It was all very confusing.

Addy rode in her safety seat with Elephanty, and her daddy sat beside her. Across from her, Mommy stared out the window at the city as they rode, fingers absentmindedly stroking her stomach.

“Ames? Are you okay?” Maxon was convinced she was in secret labor.

America furrowed her eyebrows, annoyed that he’d asked her that question so many times in the same day. “You really think I could hide labor from you? You must think I’m very tough, or labor isn’t really all that painful. Which is it?”

“Tough, of course.” Maxon hurried to save himself. “Obviously I’m concerned about the pain of labor, Love, that’s why I’m so worried about you.”

“Mommy hurt?” Addy attempted to join the conversation.

“No, my little Bird. Mommy is fine.” America reassured her daughter, then glared at her husband. “Maxon, we’re on the same team. You have to trust me. I will tell you when I have anything to tell.”

Maxon looked sufficiently chastened.

“You think I’d rather have desserts than hospital-grade pain relievers when I go into labor?” America challenged him.

“Sometimes.” Maxon teased.

America shook her head at him, but she was smiling. He wasn’t entirely wrong.

“Mommy, we please go to Gramma?” Addy was getting antsy. The car was essentially a Gramma machine in her experience, and all this no Gramma was really wearing on her.

“We’re going to get some yummy treats at a very special bakery in town, my lovely.” America reassured her. “Then we’ll go back home and play with Astra and the twins.”

“Why?”

Maxon leaned over and pressed a kiss to Addy’s hair, “A long, long time ago, the very first King in all of Illéa ate at this bakery. And every single king, queen, prince, or princess has eaten there ever since. And now, you get to go for the very first time and have a yummy, yummy treat. What kind of treat will you get, Adrienne?”

Addy kicked her legs in thought, accidentally making contact with America’s knee. “Oops, sorry Mommy!” Addy rushed to explain that she hadn’t meant to wound her mother.

“That’s okay, baby.”

“Ummmmmm…” Addy drew her thought out, returning to the question at hand. “I want…” There was so much to consider.

“They’ll have cake, cookies, cupcakes, cinnamon rolls, stawberry tarts—“

“Cheese.” Addy decided.

America laughed, her big round belly bouncing in a way that made Addy giggle too.

Maxon chuckled, “They won’t have cheese, but they might have cheesecake.”

Addy turned to him, eyes wide, astonished, “Cheese… cake?”

“Yes, my little milk baby.” Maxon was thrilled to have blown her mind like this. “Does that sound good?”

Addy nodded excitedly, all thoughts of Gramma forsaken in exchange for cheesecake.

The car slowed down to reveal a rope line full of people eager to meet their king, queen, and princess. Uncle Carter said some words into his radio and then Uncle Aspen appeared beside the car and opened the door.

America required extensive help to get in and out of the backseat of the car, so Maxon went first, waved to the crowd, and then helped his wife up. While America got to work signing autographs and posing for photographs, Maxon unbuckled Addy from her safety seat and scooped her up on his hip.

The crowd was loud, but they were all smiling. Paparazzi yelled Maxon’s name, but there was a rule that they weren’t allowed to yell at Addy, so she didn’t feel scared of them. Maxon signed autographs with one hand and kept ahold of Addy with the other.

“Do you want to try signing, Love?” Maxon offered Addy, much to the delight of the woman whose paper was being signed.

“I write?”

“Yes.” Maxon handed her the pen.

Addy scribble-scrabbled on the paper, her very first signature. It didn’t have any recognizable letters, of course, but it was still a momentous occasion.

Shortly after, Addy lost patience with the repetition and asked to be released so she could go to Weaver. Maxon agreed, setting Addy down and watching until she’d dashed the distance back toward the car, where Officer Weaver stood waiting. He had a small toy car in his pocket that she immediately started playing with. She pretended the car was going to cheese-cake’s house, zooming it in circles, driving it up Weaver’s arm, and putting it in airplane mode so it could fly over to the real car and drive along the back door.

“Bird?” America called for her daughter. “Time to go inside.”

Addy handed the toy car back to Weaver and hurried to grasp her Mommy’s hand, then they led the way inside, followed by her daddy and the guards.

Inside the bakery, Roseabelle stood waiting in front of the display of desserts, her son and granddaughter next to her. All of them sank into curtsies and bows at the sight of the royal family. The only photographer allowed inside was the royal photographer, and he clicked away as Maxon shook hands with each proprietor. When it was America’s turn to greet them, Roseabelle welcomed her warmly, “It is an honor to serve you again, your Majesty.”

“I’m so glad we were able to squeeze this into our schedules.” America grinned. “I’ve been craving your strawberry tarts for weeks, I think this little one was trying to remind me of the promise I made you the last time I visited, before Addy was born.”

“You came here, Mommy?” Addy chirped.

“Yes, when you were in my tummy we both came here.”

“I don’t remember.” Addy admitted.

“That’s okay, honey.” America laughed, giving Addy’s hand a squeeze.

“Is now time for treats?”

“Are you hungry, your Highness?” the kind old woman asked, amused.

Addy wasn’t so hungry, but she was always ready for sugar. She shrugged, not wanting to lie.

Roseabelle’s son took charge, “Why don’t we get a picture for our wall and then we’ll hand out desserts?”

It took some negotiation to fit everyone into the frame, but the photographer managed it quickly enough. Roseabelle took a seat in a chair in the middle, with her son standing behind her and her granddaughter to her side. On her other side, Maxon held Addy on his hip with one arm, his other arm around America.

They said one, two, three, “cheese”, except for Addy who said one, two, three, “cheesecake”. When they were satisfied that they had a good image, one for the history books, Maxon took America’s hand and guided her to one of the empty tables. He pulled her chair out for her, and then asked Roseabelle’s granddaughter for a booster seat for Addy.

When the royal family was seated comfortably, with glasses of cold water in front of them, Roseabelle herself came out to take their order. Maxon wanted some of his favorite chocolate cake, America wanted one strawberry tart (to start with, and maybe more later), and Addy ordered for herself, “Cheesecake please”.

There were a few more pictures taken once the food arrived, which gave Addy time to study her toddler-sized slice of cake. It didn’t look like cheese, but her dad promised there was lots and lots of cream cheese inside, and Addy also loved whipped cream, so she assumed cream and cheese would make the best cake ever on earth. She also had a beautiful, bright red strawberry on top to match her mom’s dessert.

America bit in first, and made a dramatic “mmmmm” sound.

“C’I have a bite, Mommy?” Addy immediately started hustling for extra dessert. America obliged her with a fork full of strawberry tart. Addy mimicked her mom’s “mmmm” sound. Then she turned to her father, who had just taken his own first bite. “C’I have some, Daddy?”

Maxon offered her a fork full of chocolate and she “mmmm”ed again.

“Here, baby.” America helped Addy cut her cheesecake into small, bite-sized pieces and then used a disinfectant wipe to clean Addy’s hands. “Now you can use your fingers instead of a fork, okay?”

Addy preferred her fingers to a fork, because she usually dropped half her food onto the floor when she was using a fork. Aunt Silvia said she needed to practice, so she should use forks most of the time, but secretly her mommy and daddy let her use fingers if her hands were clean, to avoid the mess.

Addy pinched a piece of cake delicately between her thumb and pointer finger. It was cold and squishier than her dad’s cake. She popped it into her mouth, eyes wide as she tasted the creamy, cinnamon-y sweetness on her tongue.

“Good, Birdy?” Maxon asked, chuckling at his daughter’s rapturous expression.

Addy nodded, mouth still full, and held out a piece for him to try. He let her feed him, and “mmmmm”ed appreciatively.

“What do you think, Bird? Should we order some extra slices to take back to the Palace and eat with Astra and Meri this weekend?” America suggested.

Addy nodded again, still in the middle of her life-changing experience.

America smiled across the little round table to Maxon, who smiled back at her affectionately.

“You know, Ames… this is the best I’ve felt in weeks.”

“Me too.”

“You were right as usual, my love. I’m glad we came today.”

“Me too.”

“Feel free to remind me of this the next time I allow fear to cloud my reasoning.”

“Oh, don’t worry Maxon,” America chuckled, “I will.”

#laws of inheritance #the thing with feathers #challenge #DemocracyHands

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2018shawn · 4 years

Text

a small, quick write based on a concept me and @cumholland were talking about aka tom being obsessed with naming your unborn child

the day you found out you were pregnant, not only were your excited, but also shit scared terrified of carrying a little human, who literally depended on you for everything. two hours into the discovery, tom was already talking about names because he felt bad for calling him/her “the bub”. unbeknown to you, he’d ordered not one... not two... not three... but four baby name books, next day delivery, because he couldn’t think (nor spell) to save his life and he already had a name on the tip of his tongue, but he’d be damned if he could get the prefect fitting.

what else you didn’t know, is that he’d ordered the books to your name, so when he’d left for work the next morning and you received the package, your eyebrows knitted together and hands immediately got to work on unwrapping the brown package. you couldn’t help the single tear that left your eye as you studied each individual book, opening each book to a random page and picking a random name each time.

you opened your text conversation to tom, typing the four names you’d let your eyes fall over automatically. it was a while before he replied, but that was normal, considering he was a ridiculously busy movie star with a schedule busier than the moon. but when he did reply, your heart warmed at the names he’d returned, although, you were sure anything he said could make your heart flutter and knees fall weak.

when you got to 12 weeks, you both decided it was more than safe enough for you to officially declare yourself pregnant. the news soon spread far and wide, your friends, family and fans soon learning of the information and the incoming tweets, messages and instagram dm’s soon filled your phone, almost half of them being a suggestion of names. as you and tom sat on the sofa one cosy saturday evening, pizza on your legs and tessa giving the best puppy dog eyes, you started to scroll through the infinite amount of messages whilst suggesting the best choices aloud to tom.

“verity?” you asked, picking all the pepperoni off you pizza, even though you specifically asked for it.

“eh.... kinda old fashioned.” he shrugged, his sweat shorts riding high up his thighs and grey nike sweat top clinging to his body perfectly. it was then, you realised, there was no wonder how you got so pregnant so quick.

“okaaaaay...” you scrolled through more, screwing your face up at some suggestions until you landed on another that caught your eye.

“sophie?”

“nope.”

you sighed, grunting until you found another name. “harper?”

“like the instrument?” he asked, picking the discarded pepperoni from your cardboard box and throwing it into his mouth.

you took that as a no, although you weren't sure if he was being serious. “alfie?”

he was silent for a small while, letting himself finish the spiced pepperoni before washing it down with a neck full of beer. nodding, you could tell he was genuinely thinking about it, as if he was spelling out alfie holland in his head, just like you were. the last bite of his stuffed crust drove you insane, and it was almost like your baby’s name depended on this very decision. “alfie thomas holland.”

that saturday night, four weeks ago, was the last time you and tom had talked about baby names and you thought that was okay, you wasn’t putting any pressure on it. 16 weeks in, your baby the size of an avocado (apparently), tom had to fly across the pacific pond for some work stuff and you hated every minute of saying goodbye. he hated it even more. he hated when he had to say goodbye, even when you weren't pregnant, but now you were carrying a mini tom, he fought with everything he had in him to not leave the country although his pleads were denied. tommy, it’s okay. you assured him, we’ll both be here waiting for you. you’d said, watching him walk away with his lonely suitcase as he boarded the plane. that was all it took for you too pull your phone out and send the message.

two days into tom’s work trip, you were knee deep in contracts and invoices that your boss had sent, with firm instruction that they all must be completed by the time the sun sets. tom was sat in a beauty chair, gushing to his hair stylist how perfect of a mum you’ll be, while you poured yourself a fifth cup of tea. you’d forgotten what a personal phone is, you’d forgotten what daylight looks like and you’d forgotten you were meant to be eating for two, letting the occasional lunch slip your mind. it was nothing new when you email notification sounded, the ping filling the room and making you roll your eyes, yet again. although, further research into the new email made your heart flutter and mouth smile, fully aware it was not from your boss, or let alone, any work colleague.

what about isaac for a boy?

evangeline for a girl?

love you soooooOooOooOOoOoO much

ps remember to eat

as a well known instagram poster, it was when you decided to go live that you decided tom was a total doofus, as if you hadn’t considered that summary beforehand. speaking to the zillion and one incoming messages, you answered as many questions as you could, trying to ignore the blue tick that kept appearing in the comments, bold capital letters threatening to take over the screen.

EMMA

IRIS

HUNTER

HANG ON...

NIKKI

BC MY MUM

in the midst, was a thousand and one people commenting how cute he was, only spurring him on to comment more names and as much as you tired to ignore it, you couldn’t. it was hard to answer any normal questions, your entire feed flooded with baby names and comments about tom and of course you weren’t mad, by any stretch of the imagination, but for once you though instagram might pull you back into normal life.

MARIE

LIKE THAT CAT

you finally gave in one night, agreeing to join tom at one of his live interviews and although you wouldn’t be appearing on the screen as such, you felt nervous for being in front of such a large audience and crew. tom had stayed with you as much as he could, before hair and make up beckoned him but even then, you stayed with harrison, who was able to calm you nerves and keep your mind occupied.

tom, of course, appeared on the guest sofa looking like a complete snack as always, leaving you pining behind the camera. it began with many questions about the film, but when the guests had drunk a couple of sips of whiskey, the collars started to loosen and questions started to flow.

“so, tom, we have a name generator....” the host pulled out a fish bowl, full of folded up pieces of paper. “and we think, whatever you pull out you should name your unborn child...”

tom immediately looked for you, finding you just behind the camera man with a shocked, but amused expression. when you nodded, tom knew it was more than acceptable for him to play along, giving everyone what they wanted. his hand dipped deep into the bowl as he secretly wished for a name that he hoped would not only be super cute, but one that you'd already chosen together. he pulled out a single paper, the crowd and host on the edge of their sit as he unfolded.

“thomas jr... really?!”

tom taglist: @imaginashawnns @fallinallincurls @mendesficsxbombay @cosmicholland

also thank u to @shawnsmoose for providing my drunk ass with names lmao

#tom holland #tom holland blurb #tom holland imagine #tom holland oneshot #tom holland fic #dad!tom #dad!tom holland #dad!tomholland

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conaionaru · 4 years

Text

Honor and Blood (Ivar the Boneless)

The first letter

Synopsis: Some more fluff, and an ominous message.

Warnings: fluff, Ivar, angst, toxic family, mentions of murder, mentions of child murder, prophecy

Tags:

@xbellaxcarolinax @youbloodymadgenius @shannygoatgruff @lol-haha-joke @queenbeeta @heavenly1927 @didiintheblog

P.S. I will be using some Norwegian endearments from here so shout out to the autor @jeglaerenorsk for her great work <3. I will also put the meaning behind the words to make it clearer, cause I am gonna forget the meaning right after I post this and will be too lazy to research it for future reference.

I don’t own the gifs. Also, thank you for your support. I really appreciate it.

"I get that you want attention, my Little Venn, but your mother is sleeping." Vanya smiled at the raspy voice of her husband as a hand rubbed her five-month bump. She trailed her hand up Ivar's bare chest and looking into his sheepish blue eyes.

"She would be if somebody didn't wake her up. But you are forgiven." The young princess smiled sleepily, kissing her handsome husband on the lips. Ivar drew back and looking at her, her red hair shone thanks to the sunlight hitting it from the window, her eyes were droopy and her tired smile contagious.

"Lucky me then."

Vanya chuckled at his remark and kissed his brow, her lips lingering there, too tired to move just yet. Ivar pulled her closer to his side with an arm around her shoulders; his other trailed to her hand on his chest. Vanya intertwined their fingers together and played with his worn hand from years of dragging himself around.

The child inside her moved around gingerly, too awake to let Vanya rest. She felt quite comfortable like this even though the babe was restless, the redhead felt at peace in Ivar's arms, safe and sound from any dangers to come. She had it all wrong in the beginning; Ivar's rage and mood swings aren't a danger to her; they are a danger to others. To those who wish to harm her or their Little Venn, and she drew strength from him.

Vanya sighed in content as she drew her Ivar's intertwined hands up into the ray of sunlight above them. She watched the light dance on their skin as they both slowly woke up. The princess felt Ivar's eyes on her, so she met his gaze to see love and adoration in them. So soft and vulnerable as they always were when they were alone, and he didn't have to be guarded and mean. "I love you, Hjertet mitt (My heart)."

Ivar's face lit up in happiness at her confession as he cupped her face in his hand and gazed into her lovely eyes. "Min dyrebare (My precious)." The two slowly rolled out of bed and got ready against their will, which pleaded them to stay in bed and enjoy the presence of each other for the rest of the day. Vanya put on a blue dress with dark teal long sleeves. While Ivar put on his clothes and tied his legs, the princess braided her hair into a crown.

The two made their way to the Great Hall, where Hvitserk, Ubbe, and Sigurd sat together talking about something. By the heated looks Hvitserk sent towards the thralls, Vanya suspected they were talking about Margrethe. And by the girl's nervous and bashful looks, the Saxon was right. "Look who is finally up. How is the child?"

Vanya smiled at Ubbe's question and put a hand on her stomach. "Were restless this morning. I hope it will calm down soon. Otherwise, I will have to spend the whole day in bed again."

"Oh, I am sure Ivar wouldn't mind at all." Hvitserk teased; in exchange, Vanya threw a piece of bread at him that he caught in his mouth and grinned in victory. Ubbe chuckled at their antics and pointed at Ivar. "If it is like Ivar, then you won't get any rest at all. He moved around a lot too when Mother was pregnant."

"At least I know who to blame now." Vanya sighed, giving Ivar a halfhearted glare that he paid back with a kiss to her knuckles. He always held her hand at the table now, especially whenever Sigurd opened his mouth.

"Morning." Aslaug greeted them, sitting down and ordered the thralls to pour her ale. Something was bothering her by the pinched look on her face, and when Bjorn came in later looking agitated, the others wanted answers.

Bjorn sat down on Vanya's left and gave her a letter. "This came by raven at dawn. It has Slegia's seal on it." Vanya's hands froze as soon as the words left the Ragnarsson's mouth. Under her index finger was a bumpy surface. When she turned the letter over, she could see the red wax seal of Slegia - a sun. It has been the sigil of their kingdom for over a hundred years since her ancestor won the property in a tourney and named himself king. Her ancestor Slegc, the First King, laid the last stone of his kingdom during a sunset that painted the sky red, so he put the red sun on a black cloth and named it his sigil.

Now that simple sigil fills Vanya with dread, if Silas is writing to her, it must be something dire. Imagines of her dead mother or kingdom at war flashed in her mind while her hands shook. "Vanya, you don't have to read it." Sigurd's voice cut her from her thoughts; she looked at the concerned faces of her new family and smiled at them reassuringly.

"A letter can't harm me." It was more of a reminder for her than for them. She broke the seal and opened the letter to reveal her brother's neat handwriting. "Dear sister, I write to you in hopes that you are alright. Not a day has passed that I didn't think of you and your wellbeing."

Sigurd and Ivar snorted at the blatant lie Silas wrote, yet Vanya continued reading, fearing if she dared to stop, she wouldn't find the courage to start again. "Mother's array of visitors has allowed us to strengthen our forces. You might also be happy to know that King Ecbert offers us support if any of the other opposing kingdoms dares to attack us. We were all very worried about you since there has been no news from you since your wedding five months ago. So we were all delighted to hear that you are not only well, but also with child. I wish you and your husband a healthy child and a happy marriage. To reassure myself and Mother of your wellbeing, I will visit you when time allows it." Vanya swallowed the foul taste on her tongue as her hands trembled.

"With all my love, King Silas of Slegia, son of Kind Osmond, first of his name." Vanya slowly set the letter back down at the table and looked at the Ragnarssons and Aslaug in worry.

"How does he know you are with child?" Ivar asked his brows knitted together in anger. Vanya shrugged as she squeezed his hand in fear, her face as pale as snow with her eyes glassy.

Bjorn slammed his cup down on the table and glared at his plate. "There must be a spy here. That's the only way; we never announced the pregnancy to anyone outside Kattegat."

"It could have been merchants as well. They could have mentioned it in England, and words travel fast. It may have reached Silas within a week." Aslaug pointed out, ordering Margrethe to refill her empty cup.

"It doesn't matter how they know; what matters is that he wants to come here. I don't get why. What are his intentions?" Sigurd asked, staring at the letter like it personally offended him. He heard enough about Silas to know the man was no good.

Ivar slammed his hand against the wood and snarled like an angry beast. "He means to make sure it is mine, of course. He chose me because I am a cripple, now that Vanya is with child, he is in danger. But if it is a bastard, it would benefit him."

"Why should he care about that?" Hvitserk asked curiously, not understanding the point. How could an unborn child endanger a king a land away?

Something clicked in Vanya's mind, connecting Ivar's statement to what she knew of her brother. "A girl wouldn't, but a son might. If I bear a son, he would have a claim to Slegia's throne. Silas has no child yet, and with his disinterest in finding a wife, there might never be one. But his nephew would have a claim to the throne, and if he wished to, he could take the crown from him and any heirs he might have."

"That's why he mentions the armies and King Ecbert; it's a threat. And now that he knows his plan of choosing Ivar didn't work, he wants to make sure if the child is a danger to him or not." Bjorn agreed, sighing in anger and exhaustion. Silas showing up to snoop around with an army would delay his journey to the Meditteranean greatly.

Ivar scoffed and crumbled the offending letter throwing it to the ground while Vanya sat there unmoving, looking at the empty space. All her earlier illusions of safety were pitiful; she thought that she was safe with Silas so far away. But he kept on destroying her life even now. "We will keep all warriors and shieldmaidens here; I can aks Mother for support if we need it. She will be happy to help us when it comes to a pregnant woman. The question is, when will he come?" Bjorn uttered thinking of ways to protect Kattegat, the people, Vanya, and his nephew all at once.

"Well, that's a good question. But Silas offers no answer. /I will visit you when time allows it./ What does that mean?" Ubbe urged, pointing at the crumpled letter on the ground.

"It means he wants us to worry, which is what we mustn't do. Especially you Love, it is bad for your child. Let us take care of all that." Aslaug reassures Vanya smiling at the scared ginger, but Vanya shook in disagreement.

"Silas is my brother; he is threatening my child and me." The Saxon explained thinking of her brother's sneer and her bruises and foul words she received from him over the years.

Hvitserk shrugged his shoulders, trying to find a silver lining in the whole thing to reassure his brother and sister in law. "What if it isn't a threat at all?"

"And what would it be then, Hvitserk? What do you think he will do if the child is a boy? Do you think he will ignore it and sail away? Killing my child would put an end to any problems that the child might cause for him!" Vanya hated the way it sounded, but Ivar was right. Silas won't ignore any threats to his crown; he killed people for less. An unborn child or a babe at his mother's breast wouldn't be that hard to kill. She shuddered at the image and leaned against Ivar for support while laying her hands on her belly.

Ivar pulled his wife closer and rubbed her sides to calm her frantic heartbeat. He was terrified for them both, which made him angry. How was he supposed to protect them? He couldn't fight and kill Silas; he was no good on the battlefield without any legs.

"They will ride under a red sun painted with the blood of the Forest King," Vanya said sullenly, remembering the prophecy that sometimes haunted her dreams. "The red sun is Slegia's sigil."

"Does that make Silas the King of the Forest?" Sigurd questioned, amused by the irony if it was true.

Vanya nodded to their surprise as she looked at them with newfound hope. "Silas means forest! It was never about a King of the forest; it was about the meaning."

"That's nice and all, but does the prophecy say anything about how we kill him?" Bjorn insisted not that satisfied with the reveal.

Ubbe groaned at the lack of answers and looked at his mother. She has the gift of foresight; maybe she saw something. But Aslaug shook her head, noting to pray to the Gods for answers later on. "We know that the snake that the child holds in its hand is Silas. And the Seer said that the price for greatness is Vanya's blood. Silas is Vanya's blood as well. The prophecy is about him, and it ends in victory that much is certain."

Vanya exhaled slowly to steady; her nerves shook her head. "He said that I need to endure, not that I will win. Or that Silas is the asked prize." The room was quiet and solemn as they tried to think of answers for the oncoming danger.

"Whatever it is... We will protect you." Ubbe promised as the others agreed. But it did little to reassure her, Silas was a risk she didn't want to take. But one thing was sure; he needed to die, or she would never be free.

#vikings #ivar x oc #ivar lothbrok #ivar the boneless #original character #original female character

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