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kckt88 · 1 month

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The Lost Dragon 2 - Grief.

Summary:

The family gathers for a funeral, and the heir to Driftmark claims their inheritance.

Warnings - Angst, Drama, Violence, Grief, Mourning, Guilt, Funeral, Allusion to Same-Sex Relationship.

AEMOND TARGARYEN x O.C -VAELYS TARGARYEN

Word Count: 4574

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the House of The Dragon or Fire & Blood characters nor do I claim to own them. I do not own any of the images used.

Comments, likes, and reblogs are very much appreciated.

Tag List - @jasminecosmic99 @kaelatargaryen @yesterdayfeelings-blog @immyowndefender @0eessirk8 @darylandbethfanforever9

With a heavy heart, Daevyn approached the cot where Jace's linen-wrapped body lay, his footsteps slow and measured, his breaths shallow and uneven. As he reached out a trembling hand, he hesitated for a moment, his heart filled with sorrow at the sight before him.

Gently, he placed his hand on Jace's still form, his fingers brushing against the cool fabric of the linen. Closing his eyes, he bowed his head in silent reverence, his lips moving in a silent prayer of gratitude and farewell.

"Thank you, Uncle-" he whispered softly, his voice barely more than a breath. "Thank you for your sacrifice, for your bravery. You will always be remembered."

Tears pricked at the corners of Daevyn's eyes as he stood there, lost in his thoughts and memories. He thought of the times they had shared together, the laughter and the joy.

And as he stood there, his hand resting on Jace's lifeless body, he vowed to honour his uncle's memory in all that he did.

With one final, lingering touch, Daevyn whispered a silent farewell to his beloved uncle, his heart heavy with grief but also filled with gratitude for the time they had shared. And as he turned away, his eyes wet with tears, he knew that Jace would live on in his heart forever, a cherished memory that would never fade.

As Aemond stirred from his unconscious state, a wave of pain washed over him, jolting him back to awareness. His eye fluttered open, the world around him hazy and indistinct as he struggled to orient himself.

"Vaelys," he croaked, his voice hoarse and barely audible. "Vaelys, where are you?"

His heart pounded in his chest as he called out for her, the fear of being alone in his moment of awakening threatening to overwhelm him.

But before he could utter another word, he felt a presence beside him, a hand reaching out to grasp his own.

"I'm here, Aemond," Vaelys' voice sounded, her tone filled with relief and concern. "I'm right here."

Aemond turned his head, his gaze locking with hers as she knelt beside him, her eyes filled with tears of joy at the sight of him awake.

Beside her stood Daevyn, his face alight with happiness at his father's return to consciousness.

"Father," Daevyn exclaimed, a wide smile spreading across his face. "You're awake!"

Aemond managed a weak smile in return, his heart swelling with love and gratitude at the sight of his family gathered around him.

"Thank the gods," Vaelys murmured, her hand tightening around his as she leaned in to press a gentle kiss to his forehead.

"Daevyn," he rasped, his voice still weak from his ordeal. "What are you doing here?"

Daevyn's smile faltered slightly at the question, his expression shifting to one of concern as he met his father's gaze. "We were worried," he explained, his voice steady but tinged with anxiety. "We hadn't received any news back in King's Landing, and we feared the worst. So, I flew straight here on Sapphyre."

Aemond's heart swelled with pride at his son's bravery and determination. He reached out to grasp Daevyn's hand, squeezing it tightly in a silent gesture of gratitude and reassurance.

"Thank you. Tresy," said Aemond softly, his voice filled with emotion (Son).

Daevyn nodded, a flicker of relief crossing his features at his father's words. "Of course, Father," he replied, his voice steady with determination.

As Aemond slowly sat up, his gaze roamed the tent, taking in his surroundings with a mixture of relief and trepidation. His eye fell upon the cot where Jace's linen-wrapped body lay, a reminder of the sacrifice his good brother had made to save him.

Memories flooded Aemond's mind as he recalled the selfless act of bravery that had cost Jace his life. He remembered the chaos of battle, the desperate struggle for survival, and the moment when Jace had pushed him out of harm's way, taking the fatal blow meant for him.

A lump formed in Aemond's throat as he thought of Jace's sacrifice.

"Daevyn," he said, his tone carrying the weight of authority. "I need you to return to King's Landing."

Daevyn nodded, understanding the urgency in his father's words. "Of course, Father," he replied, his voice steady despite the underlying concern. "What do you need me to do?"

Aemond's gaze softened as he met his son's eyes. "Make the preparations for our return," he instructed. "And send a raven to Driftmark. Request that Baela and the children come to King's Landing as soon as possible."

Daevyn's brow furrowed in confusion at the request, but before he could voice his questions, Aemond raised a hand to silence him. "Don't tell anyone anything," he commanded, his voice leaving no room for argument. "Not until we are ready."

Daevyn hesitated for a moment, uncertainty flickering in his eyes, but he nodded in acquiescence. "Understood, Father," he said, his voice tinged with determination. "I'll do as you ask."

With a final nod of affirmation, Aemond watched as his son turned to leave, his heart heavy with the weight of the decisions that lay ahead. But he knew that he could trust Daevyn to carry out his wishes.

Despite the pain coursing through his body, Aemond's heart swelled with overwhelming relief and gratitude as he watched Daevyn leave the tent.

Turning to Vaelys, his eye brimming with emotion, he felt an irresistible urge to hold her close, to feel the warmth of her embrace and the steady beat of her heart against his own.

Without hesitation, he threw himself at Vaelys, his arms wrapping around her with a fierce determination that belied his weakened state. He pulled her close, pressing her body against his own, as if trying to meld their two forms into one.

"Vaelys," he murmured against her hair, his voice trembling with emotion. "I thought I'd lost you."

Vaelys returned his embrace, her arms encircling him with a tenderness born of love and devotion. She held him close, her touch a soothing balm against the ache of his wounds, as if willing her strength to flow into him and heal his pain.

"I’m here, Aemond," whispered Vaelys softly.

Aemond held Vaelys tightly against him, refusing to let her go as if he feared she might vanish if he loosened his grip even for a moment.

He buried his face in her neck, seeking solace in the familiar scent of her hair, the warmth of her skin against his own.

"I can't let you go," he whispered hoarsely, his voice thick with emotion. "I can't bear the thought of losing you."

Vaelys ran her fingers through his long hair, her touch gentle and soothing as she held him close. "You won't lose me, Aemond," she murmured, her voice filled with love and reassurance. "I'm here, and I'm not going anywhere. We'll get through this together, I promise."

But despite her words, Aemond clung to her desperately, his heart filled with a profound sense of fear and uncertainty. He had faced many battles in his life, but none had ever felt as daunting as the prospect of losing Vaelys.

"We need to decide what type of funeral to give him," Aemond said, his voice heavy with emotion. "He was both a Targaryen and a Velaryon, so it's important to honour both of his legacies."

Vaelys nodded, her brow furrowed in thought. "Yes, you're right," she agreed. "But ultimately, the decision should be made by his wife, Baela. She knows him best, and she should have the final say in how he is laid to rest."

"Of course," replied Aemond, his voice soft with understanding. "We'll speak with her and honour her wishes, whatever they may be”.

“You need to rest-“ said Vaelys.

"What about Vermax?" asked Aemond, his voice tinged with worry. "Last I remember, he had a broken wing”.

"Vermax is being cared for," she assured him, her voice soft and gentle. "But he mourns the loss of his rider."

Aemond's heart sank at the news, knowing the bond that existed between dragon and rider, a bond that transcended mere words or actions.

"I know how much Jace meant to him” replied Aemond.

Vaelys nodded in agreement, her own eyes shimmering with unshed tears. "Yes," she replied softly. "But we'll make sure he receives the care and attention he needs. We owe it to Jace”.

"And what of Vhagar?" he inquired, his voice tinged with a mixture of curiosity and affection. "How is she faring?"

Vaelys offered him a reassuring smile, her gaze softening as she spoke of the formidable dragon. "Your old girl is well," she replied, her voice warm with fondness. "She's doing what she does best—sleeping."

"Sleeping, eh?" he mused, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "Well, I suppose she's earned her rest. She's always been a formidable warrior."

Vaelys nodded in agreement, her eyes twinkling with amusement. "That she has, but my love you should also get some sleep-"

“I’ve slept enough-“ muttered Aemond.

“Please my love” begged Vaelys.

“Ok-but will you stay with me?” asked Aemond quietly.

“Always” replied Vaelys.

As they made the preparations to return to King's Landing, Aemond and Vaelys couldn't help but feel a sense of anticipation mingled with sadness.

While they were eager to return home, the thought of leaving Vermax behind weighed heavily on their hearts.

"It's for the best," Aemond murmured, his voice tinged with regret as he surveyed the injured dragon. "Vermax needs time to heal”

Vaelys nodded in agreement, her expression reflecting the same mix of emotions. "Yes, you're right," she replied softly. "But it's hard leaving him behind, knowing he's in pain."

Aemond reached out to grasp her hand, offering her a reassuring squeeze. "I know," he said gently. "But we'll make sure he's well taken care of. I've already requested that a number of guards remain to keep watch over him and ensure that he eats well enough to heal."

Vaelys smiled gratefully at her husband, her heart swelling with pride at his compassion and concern for the injured dragon. "Thank you, Aemond," she said, her voice filled with warmth. "I know Vermax will appreciate it."

With a solemn expression on his face, Aemond turned to the soldiers gathered around him, his voice firm and commanding. "Stake the bodies of the Triarchy members to the sands," he ordered, his tone brooking no argument. "Let it be a warning to any who would dare to threaten the peace of the realm."

The soldiers nodded in understanding; their faces grim as they set about carrying out Aemond's orders. With practiced efficiency, they drove wooden stakes into the ground and secured the bodies of the fallen enemies to them, their actions serving as a stark reminder of the consequences of crossing the Targaryen crown.

As the task was completed, Aemond surveyed the scene before him, his jaw set in determination. He knew that the sight of the staked bodies would send a clear message to any who dared to challenge their authority—that the Targaryen’s would not hesitate to mete out justice to those who threatened the safety and stability of the Seven Kingdoms.

With their dragons leading the way, Aemond and Vaelys led their army in a solemn procession back to King's Landing. The journey was marked by a sombre atmosphere, the soldiers marching in respectful silence as they accompanied the fallen body of Jace, draped in the colours of House Targaryen and Velaryon.

As they made their way through the countryside, the people of the realm lined the roads to pay their respects, bowing their heads in reverence as the procession passed by.

Jace's body was laid on a litter, escorted by a contingent of solemn-faced Velaryon soldiers.

As Aemond and Vaelys arrived back in King's Landing, the bustling city greeted them with a mixture of relief and solemnity.

The streets were lined with onlookers, their faces filled with reverence as they watched the procession pass by.

At the gates of the city, Aemond and Vaelys made a request for food for their dragons, ensuring that their loyal companions were cared for before attending to their own needs.

With the provisions secured, they dismounted from their dragons and joined the procession on foot, walking alongside Jace's body as it was carried through the streets.

Despite the offers of horses and carriages, Aemond and Vaelys insisted on walking, their determination unwavering.

As they made their way through the city, the crowds parted to make way for the solemn procession, offering their condolences and expressions of support to the grieving rulers. Aemond and Vaelys acknowledged each gesture with a nod of gratitude, their hearts heavy but their resolve unbroken.

As Aemond and Vaelys walked through the gates of the Red Keep, they were greeted by a solemn yet reverent gathering of their family, council members, and loyal subjects. Their children—Sovia, Daevyn, Aemon, and Rekara—stood in a line, their expressions a mix of sorrow and determination as they awaited their parents' return.

Standing beside them were Helaena and her children, Jaehaera and Maelor, their presence a comforting reminder of the ties that bound their family together.

Aegon the younger and Viserys stood with Daeron, their expressions unreadable.

The council members stood nearby, their expressions grave as they paid their respects to the fallen and offered their support to the rulers of the realm.

Luke and Rhaena were also in attendance, accompanied by their six daughters, who stood with solemn reverence among the gathered crowd. And lastly, Baela stood with her children—Laena, Rhaenar, and Daemon—her gaze steady and unwavering.

As Jace's body was solemnly brought through the gate, draped in the banners of House Velaryon and Targaryen, a wave of sorrow washed over the assembled crowd. Vaelys reached out and took Baela's hand.

Baela's hand trembled in Vaelys' grasp, her tears flowing freely as the reality of her husband's death sank in. The sight of Jace's shrouded form brought a fresh wave of pain, and she clung to Vaelys for support, her sobs echoing through the courtyard.

Vaelys held onto Baela tightly, her own heart heavy with sorrow for her sister-in-law's loss. She whispered words of comfort, offering whatever solace she could in the face of such profound grief.

With a heavy heart, Baela approached Jace's shrouded form, her steps slow and deliberate. As she reached him, her hand trembling as she reached out to touch the linen that covered him.

Closing her eyes, Baela rested her forehead against Jace's form, her tears flowing freely as she allowed herself a moment of silent grief.

In that moment, all she could feel was the profound loss of his absence. She whispered his name, her voice choked with emotion, as she allowed herself to mourn the life they had shared and the future that had been stolen from them.

Around her, the courtyard fell silent, the assembled crowd giving her the space to grieve in peace. And though her heart was heavy with sorrow, Baela drew strength from the love she had shared with Jace, knowing that his memory would live on in her heart forever.

"The Silent Sisters need to prepare Jace's body for the journey back to Driftmark," she said, her words carrying a weight of finality. "He will be honoured as a Velaryon, laid to rest with the dignity and respect he deserves."

Her voice wavered slightly as she spoke, but her determination was clear. Jace may have fallen in battle, but his memory would be cherished and honoured by his family and his people. And though the pain of his loss would never fully heal, Baela took solace in the knowledge that he would find peace in the halls of his ancestors, surrounded by the love and respect of those who had known and admired him.

As the Silent Sisters approached to carry out their solemn duty, Baela stood with quiet resolve, her head held high despite the tears that stained her cheeks. Jace may have departed this world, but his legacy would live on.

But as the silent sister’s escorted Jace’s body inside the Red Keep, Vaelys caught sight of Cregan, who was standing beside Alysanne.

The raw anguish that had filled his eyes, the sorrow etched upon his face as he stood staring at Jace's covered body.

His reaction had been one of profound grief, his eyes closing briefly as a single tear slipped down his cheek.

The day of Jace's funeral dawned grey and sombre, the skies overhead heavy with clouds as the family and their guests gathered on the shores of Driftmark. The sea stretched out before them, its surface dark and turbulent, mirroring the emotions that stirred within their hearts.

Jace's body lay in a carved wooden casket, draped in the colours of House Velaryon and adorned with flowers and tokens of remembrance. The mourners gathered around, their faces drawn and solemn as they prepared to bid farewell to their beloved lord.

As the ceremony began, the air was filled with the sound of prayers and hymns, offered up in honour of the departed. The priests of the Drowned God spoke solemn words of farewell, invoking the blessings of the sea to guide Jace's spirit on its journey to the afterlife.

With heavy hearts, the family and their guests watched as the casket was hauled to the water's edge, the thick ropes sliding against the wood.

With a final prayer, the casket was pushed into the water, sinking slowly beneath the waves as the mourners looked on in silent reverence. The sea accepted its offering, enveloping Jace's body in its embrace and carrying him away to his final resting place.

Aemond stood rigid with his arms folded behind his back, his mind a conflicting mess of thoughts and emotions.

He hadn’t been close with Jace, not even when they were children, the discord between their mothers driving an invisible wedge between them.

Then there was the bullying, there had been times where Aemond would often cry because of what Aegon, Jace and Luke had subjected him too.

But never her-never did Vaelys hurt him, she made him daisy chains and drew him silly pictures, she was annoying, and he absolutely DID NOT like her in any way shape or form.

He was nothing but a dragon less whelp who felt like he wasn’t worthy of being called a Targaryen, but all that changed the night he claimed Vhagar, she accepted him, she chose him, and it was his claim of her that convinced him he was worthy after all.

But he lost his eye for it, gods the pain had been awful, metal slicing through his flesh and the flow of hot blood pouring forth amidst his pained screams would remain with him for many years.

The multiple infections and procedures he had to suffer through rendering him bed bound and unable to function as he wished too.

But he healed, he became the dutiful son, he studied history and philosophy and he trained with the sword, and it still wasn’t enough.

Kidnapping Vaelys, had changed his life irrevocably.

This annoying woman had stolen his heart and become part of him, every ounce of him burned for her in a way that he couldn’t truly explain.

She became his wife and birthed him a daughter, a sweet, beautiful Princess, his byka grēges (Little bug).

He’d killed his own brother and surrendered the crown to his sister, and she exiled him, forced him away from the arms of his wife and child.

That bastard strong boy was the grand architect behind her decision, and he hated him all the more.

But for Vaelys-for her sake. He stayed his hand.

As much as he didn’t want to-he found common ground with the bastard when he confided in him of his grief over Baela miscarrying a child-a pain Aemond knew only too well.

Over the years that hate had slightly lessened, and it had developed into a minute form of civility.

But the bastard had gone and sacrificed his life and now Aemond was confused, he wanted to hate him, to loathe him until the end of his days.

But he couldn’t. Not now.

With a heavy heart, Aemond whispered softly to the wind, his voice barely audible above the sound of the waves. "Farewell, my Lord Velaryon-”

Silently, Vaelys approached Aemond, her footsteps soft against the sand as she reached out and gently took his hand. There were no words to be spoken, instead, she simply leaned into him, resting her head against his shoulder as they stood side by side, gazing out over the vast expanse of the sea.

"Baela wants to have Laena anointed as Lady of the Tides," she said quietly, her voice tinged with sadness. "It's a heavy burden for one so young, but I understand her desire to ensure the continuity of House Velaryon."

Aemond nodded, his expression grave as he considered the implications of Baela's decision. "It's a weighty responsibility for a girl of her age," he agreed, his voice tinged with concern. "But if Baela believes she is ready for the task, then we must trust in her judgment."

“Indeed, we must” replied Vaelys.

"If Laena takes her place on the Driftwood Throne," he began, his voice measured, "Then by rights, Aemon will become her consort Lord."

As the future Lady of the Tides, Laena would need the support of a strong and capable partner by her side, and Aemond knew that his son would rise to the occasion.

Vaelys nodded in agreement, her eyes reflecting the gravity of the situation. "It will be a significant role for Aemon to fulfil," she acknowledged, her voice tinged with pride. "But I have every confidence that he will do so with honour and integrity, just as his father has."

Aemond nodded wordlessly and returned his attention to the sea, Vaelys shifted slightly in the sand and spotted Cregan, his head was bowed low, his dark hair falling forward to partially obscure his face as he mourned the loss of his closest friend. His fingers twirled absently around one of the rings he wore, a small, unconscious gesture that spoke volumes of his inner turmoil.

Vaelys' heart went out to him, knowing the depth of the bond that had existed between Jace and Cregan. They had been more than just friends—they had been brothers in all but blood, their loyalty to each other unwavering and unbreakable.

With a heavy heart, Vaelys approached Cregan and without a word, she enveloped him in her embrace, feeling the weight of his grief as he buried his face in her shoulder.

For a moment, they stood locked in a silent embrace, the only sound the soft murmur of the sea and the gentle rustle of fabric. Vaelys held him close, offering him the solace of her presence, a silent reminder that he was not alone in his sorrow.

As Cregan clung to her, Vaelys felt a surge of compassion well up within her, a deep and abiding empathy for the pain he was experiencing.

As Vaelys held Cregan in her arms, offering him what little comfort she could, her thoughts drifted to the bond that had existed between him and Jace.

There had always been whispers, rumours that their relationship was something more than mere friendship. Vaelys had seen the way Cregan's gaze would linger for longer than necessary on Jace, the subtle touches and shared glances that spoke volumes of their closeness.

She had suspected something was going on between them, but she had kept her suspicions to herself, unwilling to pry into the private affairs of others. After all, it was not her place to judge the nature of their relationship, nor did it matter in the grand scheme of things.

As the embrace between Vaelys and Cregan lingered, the Lord of Winterfell finally pulled away, gratitude shining in his eyes despite the grief that still weighed heavily upon him. "Thank you, Vaelys," he murmured softly, his voice thick with emotion.

Vaelys offered him a gentle smile, her own eyes reflecting his gratitude and sorrow. "You're welcome, Cregan," she replied quietly, her voice soft and reassuring.

With a nod of thanks, Cregan turned and walked away, disappearing into the crowd of mourners. Vaelys watched him go, her heart heavy with sorrow for the loss he had suffered.

Turning away from the crowd, she made her way back to Aemond, she half expected him to voice his displeasure at her embracing of Cregan, as he’d never really liked the Lord of Winterfell, but he remained silent, his eye never leaving the sea.

The sun rose solemnly over Driftmark, casting a soft golden glow across the island as the people gathered for the ceremony that would mark the passing of one era and the beginning of another. In the courtyard of High Tide, banners bearing the sigil of House Velaryon fluttered in the breeze, a symbol of strength and unity in the face of loss.

“I, Vaelys of House Targaryen, the First of my Name, Queen of the Andals, and the Rhoynar, and the First Men, Lady of the Seven Kingdoms, and Protector of the Realm-In accordance with the wishes of Jacaerys Velaryon and the traditions of our house, I hereby name his eldest child Laena Velaryon as Lady of the Tides, to rule in his stead and carry on his legacy”.

As the words echoed through the courtyard, a hush fell over the crowd. Laena stepped forward, her heart pounding in her chest as she prepared to take on the mantle of leadership that had been thrust upon her.

Laena took a deep breath before she lowered herself to the floor on one knee as Vaelys nodded towards Aemond.

"Aemon Targaryen, step forward-" said Aemond his voice strong and clear, cutting through the silence like a blade.

Aemon stepped forward; his expression solemn yet determined as he made his way to his father's side. His gaze met Laena's, and in that moment, there was a silent understanding between them, a shared acknowledgment of the weight of the responsibilities that lay ahead.

"Aemon Targaryen," began Aemond, his tone solemn yet filled with pride, "You stand before us today as a son of House Targaryen, but you also stand as the future consort lord of Driftmark, bound by duty and honour to Lady Laena Velaryon."

Aemon met his father's gaze, his expression determined as he listened to the words that would shape his future. With a nod of understanding, his head bowed in reverence as he pledged his loyalty and support to his wife and the future Lady of the Tides.

"I, Aemon Targaryen, swear fealty to you, Lady Laena Velaryon," he declared, his voice strong and resolute. "I will stand by your side, protect you, and uphold the honour of our house, for as long as I draw breath."

"-Now my son” Aemond proclaimed, his voice ringing out across the courtyard, "You shall kneel as Aemon Targaryen and rise as Aemon Velaryon."

With that, Aemon descended onto on knee, his heart filled with a sense of purpose and determination.

He bowed his head, and took a deep breath.

As he rose to his feet, a new name upon his lips and a new role to fulfil, he knew that he was ready to embrace the responsibilities that lay ahead, and to honour the legacy of House Velaryon with every fibre of his being.

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vilentia · 1 year

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Two Worlds Embrace

Clint Barton x reader

The sun dipped below the horizon, casting a warm orange glow over the tranquil scene as you sat on the porch swing, gently swaying back and forth. Clint Barton, the man you loved, joined you, his eyes reflecting the fading light. You had been together for three beautiful years, but the past still lingered between you.

As the two of you held hands, the soft breeze whispered through the trees, carrying a mix of emotions. You remembered the day you had met Clint, when the weight of the Blip still burdened his soul. He had lost his family, and you had been his solace during those dark times. But now, a new chapter was about to unfold.

The sound of a car approaching interrupted the peaceful silence, and your heart skipped a beat. A mix of anticipation and anxiety coursed through your veins as you stood up, tightening your grip on Clint's hand. The car door opened, and there they were—the family Clint had lost five years ago.

Tears welled up in Clint's eyes as he saw his wife, Laura, step out, followed by his children. You felt a pang of insecurity, fearing that the rekindled presence of his family would make him question your place in his life.

Clint turned to you, his gaze filled with a mix of emotions. "Y/N, I... I don't know what to say," he whispered, his voice trembling.

You gave him a reassuring smile, squeezing his hand gently. "Clint, they're your family. It's okay to be overwhelmed. Just remember, I'll always be here for you, no matter what happens."

As his family approached, Clint's grip on your hand tightened, his knuckles turning white. Laura embraced him, tears streaming down her face, and his children rushed into his arms. The reunion was bittersweet, a blend of joy and grief.

Days turned into weeks, and Clint found himself torn between his love for you and the deep bond he shared with his family. He spent every waking moment trying to find a balance, but it seemed impossible. Your insecurities grew with each passing day, and you couldn't help but wonder if you were just a temporary placeholder until his family returned.

One evening, after a particularly emotionally taxing day, Clint sought you out. His face was etched with lines of weariness, his eyes filled with an unspoken conflict. He took a deep breath, gathering his thoughts.

"Y/N, I need to talk to you," he began, his voice tinged with sadness. "These past few weeks have been overwhelming, and I've been torn between the love I have for my family and the love I have for you."

Your heart sank, and you held your breath, preparing for the words you feared would come next.

"But," Clint continued, his gaze locking with yours, "I can't deny the profound impact you've had on my life. You've been my anchor, my source of strength when I had lost everything. I don't want to let go of what we have."

Relief washed over you, but a trace of uncertainty remained. "Clint, what does that mean for us? What about your family?"

Clint's eyes softened as he reached for your hands, his touch gentle and reassuring. "I don't have all the answers, but I know that I want you in my life. We can navigate this together. I want to build a future with you, but I also want to reconnect with my family. It won't be easy, and it won't happen overnight, but I want to try."

The weight of his words lifted a burden from your shoulders, and a glimmer of hope ignited within you. Love had a way of persevering, even in the face of challenges.

With tears pooling in your eyes, you nodded, your voice filled with emotion. "Clint, I love you, and I want to fight for us. Let's take this one step at a time, supporting each other through it all."

Clint's smile was tender, filled with a mixture of gratitude and determination. "I promise, Y/N, I will do everything in my power to make this work. Our love is worth fighting for."

In that moment, you both knew that the road ahead wouldn't be easy, but the love you shared was strong enough to withstand any obstacle. With renewed commitment and an unyielding bond, you embraced the uncertainties of the future, ready to navigate the complexities of Clint's rekindled family ties while cherishing the love you had found in each other.

As time passed, Clint's family began to notice the significant role you played in his life. Laura, his wife, observed the way Clint's smile brightened whenever he was with you. His children, though initially confused, saw the genuine happiness you brought to their father's eyes.

One day, during a family gathering, Laura approached you, her eyes filled with kindness and understanding. "Y/N, I want to thank you for being there for Clint when he needed someone the most. I can see how much he cares about you."

You smiled, grateful for her understanding. "Laura, I care about him too. I want what's best for Clint and your family."

She nodded, a small smile gracing her lips. "I believe that you bring him a different kind of happiness, a new chapter in his life. I hope you'll continue to be there for him, just as he'll be there for us."

Clint's children, witnessing their mother's acceptance, gradually warmed up to you as well. They saw the love and support you offered their father, and in time, they began to consider you a significant part of their lives too.

While there were moments of adjustment and occasional insecurities, Clint's family slowly came to accept the depth of his feelings for you and the importance of your place in his life. It wasn't an easy journey, but love had a way of bridging gaps and healing wounds.

In the end, Clint's family and your relationship with him found a delicate equilibrium. They understood that your love wasn't a threat to their bond; it was a new connection that brought happiness to their beloved father and husband. And as the days turned into years, you continued to navigate the complexities together, creating a blended family rooted in love, understanding, and mutual respect.

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stab-the-son-of-a · 2 years

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Trope Talk

AKA Platonic relationship bad ending tropes I go feral over. Consummation of the bad things not required, last-second deus ex machina permitted.

Forehead touching in general. Just. Headbutt of affection. Especially right before the end. When all seems lost but they still have each other, so it’s fine.

Being separated by distance, whether it’s a million miles or just a single glass pane, but they stay on call or beside the glass until the bitter end. The dying half reminding their best friend that they love them, so much, and telling them it’s okay to cry but they have to live. If through the glass, pressing their hands over each other’s, the closest they can get to handholding, and the inevitable slow slide to the floor of the dying partner’s hand.

Standing side by side, watching their incoming doom, and without tearing their eyes away from it or communicating with each other, their hands find each other. Their intertwined fingers silhouetted against danger.

Repeating an inside joke or refrain that has emotional significance for their relationship right before the end.

One sacrificing themself for the other but saying “Thank you for being my best friend/partner/brother/sister/sibling” right before they do.

Distracting their best friend with a tight hug then shoving them into the escape pod / arms of the rescue team / safety

When person A knows person B will try to sacrifice themself so A incapacitates B or does it first. Bonus if they give a sad smile and apologize, then go through with the sacrifice while B confusedly asks, “Why are you sorry?” or while B desperately begs them to stop. (Good but specific version is A handcuffing B to a railing so they can't rush into danger after them.)

In universes with soulmates, their soulmate marks breaking, going dark, or what have you, at exactly the same time. Or when person A doesn’t even need to see their soulmark disappear to know person B just died, because they’re screaming their grief already.

Also in soulmate AUs where A losing B has permanently changed them as a person so that they are nearly unrecognizable to anyone who knew them before they lost B.

Person A hiding they’re terminally sick from everyone else but person B just Knows™️. Instead of berating A for hiding it, B helps them to maintain as much dignity and quality of life as they can. B offers A an outlet for their fear because lord knows they can’t vent to anyone else. A reassures and holds B when B’s grief overwhelms them. Finally, B being the only person A allows near them in their final moments, hands clasped tightly or foreheads pressed together. Tears on both their faces.

The worst did not happen and they all survived, the bad guy’s defeated, the bomb deactivated, yadda yadda. Just the breathless laugh of relief before Person B bear hugs Person A and bodily picks them off their feet while Person B fist pumps with one hand and has their other arm locked around A’s neck. Tears of joy, giddy adrenaline, desperate “never worry me like that again”s or stunned, “you’re alive, I’m alive, we’re alive”s.

The worst has happened. The other side won. The big bad thing came to fruition. In the wreckage of failure, they both lie side by side, curled into each other, embracing in their final moments and now for eternity.

#whump tropes #death tropes #near death tropes #platonic love #platonic relationships need more love #self sacrifice #platonic affection #near death experience #terminal illness #dealing with grief #soulmates #platonic soulmates #survivor's guilt #anger born of worry #celebrations

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iwbdbm · 3 months

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Internal Coversations:

We've moved from the shower, I see. Well - let's begin. What do you fear?

I don't know.

Too tough? Coward. *deep breath* Let's get specific. Do you fear death?

No. Death is inevitable and a kindness. It is relief from the torture of tangible existence.

Wow. Depressing. Was that meant to be "deep"?

Gods no. I'm transmasc, autistic, have ADHD, complex PTSD and fibromyalgia. Existence is pain. I will need to manually take in chemicals that my body cannot make for the rest of my life.

It will be a long, long life too.

Oh? How do you figure?

I refuse to die by suicide. I've built up my distress tolerance high enough that I can hold multiple truths at once - even ones that seem contradictory. An unexpected affect of this is I can also bear witness to horrors of the world and maintain a hope for the future.

That sounds insane.

I am proudly insane. To be well in a sick world is to be profiting off the sickness.

Fuck you. Back to fear. Do you fear sickness?

Do I fear being more sick? Adding another disability to the list? Maybe. Mostly feel excited by the challenge to adapt to new conditions and confident in my own ability to process the Grief that comes with change.

Ugh. Do you fear your loved ones being hurt?

Yes. It's not overwhelming, thankfully. I recognise hurt is inevitable and is an opportunity to grow.

I think... I think I fear hurting my loved ones. Which is wild considering the above message.

What's the difference? You think you're above hurting people or are incapable of harm? That sounds like God complex bullshit.

No. I know hurting people is inevitable, and conflict is common between people with firm senses of identity & reality.

No... I think hurting people forces me to have the internal conversation around being a "good person." I spend alot for time and energy on being kind, so hurting someone feels like I've failed at being kind. Then I process the guilt / shame that comes with failing.

Sounds like you're afraid of failure. Possibly "living up to expectations" as well. You were a "joy" to have in class as a kid huh?

Woof you actually hit a nerve. Yeah - looks like I've got to work on my fear of failure - and how that intertwines with basing my worth on behaviour rather than leaning on my having innate worth.

Gods a decade of recovery work and you're still so fucked up.

Oh you're really wanting to dig in today. Y'know you're hurting us and our body right? It's ok though - I'll make sure to be extra gentle today. I know your cruelty is a request for care.

You're right though - we're still being affected by 22 years of constant trauma. This conversation has shows I've got more work to do on the productivity trauma and building a foundation of innate worth.

Thank you. I love you.

Fuck you.

Thanks for not giving up on us.

#queer artist #complex ptsd #parts work

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riverdamien · 6 months

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December 21, 2023

Third Week of Advent

The Winter Solstice

The Magnificat

1:46 And Mary[*i] said: ‘My soul proclaims the greatness of the Lord

1:47 and my spirit exults in God my saviour;

1:48 because he has looked upon his lowly handmaid. Yes, from this day forward all generations will call me blessed,

1:49 for the Almighty has done great things for me. Holy is his name,

1:50 and his mercy reaches from age to age for those who fear him.

1:51 He has shown the power of his arm, he has routed the proud of heart.

1:52 He has pulled down princes from their thrones and exalted the lowly.

1:53 The hungry he has filled with good things, the rich sent empty away.

1:54 He has come to the help of Israel his servant, mindful of his mercy

1:55 -according to the promise he made to our ancestors-of his mercy to Abraham and to his descendants for ever.’

1:56 Mary stayed with Elizabeth about three months and then went back home.

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

My mother as she was dying, looked at me with eternal love, and said: "My son, I have known for a long time, the path in life you will follow will be to walk the road alone, you will learn, that in walking alone you can truly be true to your God, I knew that from the day you were born, go in peace," and another time was late one night walking into a service of a black street preacher near St. Paul Seminary in Kansas City, in an alley, surrounded by homeless and poor people, and a kindled fire blazing, look me in the eyes firmly preaching to me: "Young man, you are destined to preach the Gospel in places far away, outside the church, like John the Baptist," and finally the Reverend Dana Corsello preaching one Sundaypreaching a sermon saying I was "John the Baptist in our midst!"

I have chosen the "road not traveled. )Robert Frost", and this Advent looking at my nearly thirty years on this road, I have came to understand that the problems of the world are large and overwhelming, we all have limits. But we all can make a difference and healing in the world. Dorothy Day summed up her life by saying "I tried." That is all each of us can do is try.

I have barely begun, these nearly thirty years, in seeing that service is truly the work of the soul. Each person fed, each person to whom I listen, is a movement toward the soul, a return to what is most genuine and real within myself.

In the trajectory of a lifetime, this turning towards goodness loops down into the valleys, and again rises to the sky continuing in goodness. But every act of service is an evidence that the soul is stronger than all that and can draw it despite all.

The words of the Buddhist nun Pemo Chodron remind me not to look at the past or future, but the moment:

"One can appreciate and celebrate each moment--there's nothing else more sacred. There's nothing more vast or absolute. In fact there's nothing more."

And:

"The truth is that things don't really get solved. They come together and they fall a part. Then they come together again and fall a part. It's just like that. The healing comes from letting their be room for all of this to happen: room for grief, for relief, for misery and joy."

Both these quotes are sustaining in that service builds our soul in each moment that we care for another. Service in the moment allows us in letting their "be room for all of this to happen: room for grief, relief, for misery and joy."

On this the Winter Solstice, the longest night of the year, the darkness reminds me that in service, we find our souls in the light of the God who lives within us. Our failures, our darkness, will come to the light of Her love.

Service is not a gift of any one religion any more than holiness is. Many of those who serve life have no formal religion, while others follow any one of the many religious traditions on the face of the earth. All are a blessing to life.

So join me in service to others, and I can promise you pain, rejection, insult, injury, and possibly death, but oh there is so much joy, so much joy, for in service we find our souls, and the Light!

Deo Gratias! Thanks be to God!

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

Fr. C. River Damien Sims, sfw, D.Min., D.S.T.

P.O. Box 642656

San Francisco, CA 94164

Snap Chat: "riodamien2"

pay pal can be found on www.temenos.org

415-305-2124

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

"From the desire of being esteemed. .of being known. .of being praised. . .of being approved, O Jesus deliver me.

From the fear of being humbled. .of being despised

being rebuked. .of being forgotten. .O Jesus deliver me.

That others may be esteemed more than I. .that others may become holier than I, provided that I may become as holy as I should, Jesus grant me the grace to deserve it."

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random-yandere-fandom · 3 years

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Hey, can I request a Platonic Yandere!Melodias with a child he had with Elizabeth before she died? Sorry if you don't do platonics!

Of course you can! I hope you like it! I don`t have any experience with writing platonic yanderes and before I knew it I had written more than I had planned for the backstory, so... this is all that happens before the main story of Seven Deadly Sins. Btw. I`m gonna assume you meant the first time Elizabeth died.

Platonic yandere Meliodas with his child

So it`s very likely that the first few months you had both, your mother and your father. There was a war raging on but they still somehow managed to drown you in love and affection. Your parents were very protective of you back then, too. You were a hybrid and while many people of Stigma could ignore your demon genes, especially because your mother is Elizabeth, there were still a lot of glares sent your way. Nevertheless you were raised with much care and love.

You were barely a few months old when Elizabeth was murdered and both your parents cursed. Meliodas woke up to your confused cries only to discover Elizabeth’s corpse holding your small body in her arms protectively. How you got there was a mystery, they had made sure that you were safe and secure while they would fight, not only for themselves or peace but for your right to exist. He was devastated, grief washing over him as he had to take you from her, what he assumed, last embrace.

He wandered aimlessly for a while, making sure you were well-fed and in good health, playing with you and hoping that he`d make a good parent. You were his only source of joy and he almost burst into tears when you said your first words, took your first steps or did just about anything. Hide and seek or tag were ordinary pastimes, but your sparkling eyes and joy were contagious and Meliodas found himself enjoying such regularities. When he talked to others he was almost always asking for tips on parenting or where the next food source was. Meliodas never staid long with these people, fearing that they`d somehow harm you. However, he let you play with animals he deemed safe. Should they try anything funny he`ll simply send them a glare, frightening them into obedience.

It was about that time that he met Elizabeth`s first reincarnation. He was carrying you and when you pointed up, babbling and laughing, he followed your gaze to meet hers. Happiness, relief, glee. Those feelings overwhelmed him and before he knew it he tried to hug her with one arm, balancing you on the other. The rejection was harsh, but he managed to stick by her side. Whenever he had doubts that this wasn`t really Elizabeth he would simply watch her play with you, the two of you having naturally bonded in no time and his doubts would disappear. Meliodas and Elizabeth fell in love again and all seemed well.

You grew up well in the warrior tribe your mother belonged to. They treated you well, even though you couldn`t help feeling isolated from them with the way your father would sometimes usher you away from them. But it was fine, you were happy. Meliodas would train you on how to control your powers as well as how to defend yourself while Elizabeth showed you how to distinguish between plants and how to cook. You knew that you had lived off of meals made by your father before but you feared the day that would ever happen again. So you studied how to save any dish, no matter how horrible.

You were a few years older now and you noticed something off about your father. There seemed a sadness to him, one you only understood later on. You were already entrusted with the secret of your mothers rebirth and you had no problem with that, you were simply grateful, happy that you had a close bond with her despite her not remembering your earliest months and I mean, you didn`t either.

When Elizabeth showed signs of regaining her old power both you and Meliodas were elated. Only later did you two realise that it wasn`t a joyful occasion as you watched your mother die in front of you. Before you knew it your father had covered your vision, holding you close as tears streamed from both of your eyes. You were a happy family, so why had your mother died again?

Going back to wandering, you and your father were alone again. He was spoiling you, anything you wanted you got, being showered with affection and praise was the norm. When there was something threatening you, Meliodas took care of it swiftly. Only sometimes would he search for an enemy for you to fight together, though he`d make sure you wouldn`t even be so much as grazed. You wouldn`t get attached to anyone else, leaving the new place before any ties could be made. Your dad made sure that no one would dare to get close to you.

By the time you met your mother’s second reincarnation you were a teenager and it was quite the experience. People would assume you and your father to be siblings and you never stayed long enough to correct them. You couldn`t do that here. No, not if you wanted to have your mother-daughter relationship. So the two of you decided to tell her that the both of you weren`t human, you wouldn`t tell her what exactly you were but yes, Meliodas was in fact your father. And later on yes, you`d love to call her mom.

It didn`t take long for the curse to activate and by the third reincarnation you and your father became aware of its full extend. You had a mental breakdown, damned to watch your mother die over and over again. Meliodas wasn`t feeling any better but he comforted you nonetheless. He never wanted to see you in that state again but he couldn`t bring himself to forbid you and him to seek out Elizabeth. So he promised you that day that you two would never separate, that he`d be by your side forever.

Like this, centuries passed. You would meet your mom, sometimes even as a child, spend some happy years together before she was taken from you again. Your father would always make sure to be there for you but he was hesitant to letting you make any acquaintances. there were only few exceptions to who you could interact with regularly. One would be Merlin who you soon viewed as part of your family, an older sister figure of sorts.

Life was fine, the two of you living with Liz in a small kingdom, Meliodas was a well respected knight and you were his apprentice, going with the story of you two being siblings. Until Fraudrin appeared, at least. He took you by surprise, injuring you and murdering Liz. Your dad went ballistic and the next thing you knew you were in Liones, your mother`s next reincarnation being nothing more than a small child.

From then on you were only allowed to walk around with at least one of the other sins. You weren`t an official member but you accompanied them and occasionally fought alongside them. One of their orders was to never let you get hurt and they followed that one almost religiously unless they wanted their cheerful Capatain to turn livid and everything close by wiped of the face of earth.

When the country turned against you knights and Merlin sealed his powers you just barely managed to get him out of there and into a cave where you met a new companion, the talking and ever hungry Hawk. Planning to reunite with the momentarily disbanded group you opened a tavern, your father in charge of drinks and serving while you cooked, refusing to let anyone taste the hell your father called edible and he didn`t argue, preferring to keep you from those drunkards either way. .

Work starting in the evening and ending late at night, gathering any kind of information before going to sleep and then spending some quality time with your father which included hunting ingredients for various dishes. It was peaceful for a few years but before you knew it you stood across from someone in quite the impressive armor, Meliodas shielding you protectively. Anyway, that`s how you met your mother again.

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juletheghoul · 3 years

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Solis

This one is close to my heart - took me a long time to figure out how I wanted to write about Oberyn, this is an au, we are not in Westeros because I wouldn't even know how the hell to jump into that world but I hope you like it.

Oberyn Martell x F!Reader (GOT's AU)

Pairing: Oberyn x F!Reader

Word Count: 10K (sorry bout it)

Warnings: **TRIGGER WARNING** Deals with grief (readers husband / Elia's death) Reader is a widow, deals with loss and depression / fluffy parent stuff, yearning, language, Smut 18+, PIV sex (wrap it up), dirty talk **pregnancy**

Masterlist

--------

You could almost feel his arms around you, could almost feel his voice in your ear telling you he loved you. It always made waking up so hard.

Your son was up though and that meant the end of your time with him. It felt like it had been forever since he passed away, and it also felt like it had happened yesterday. Especially on the days when you dreamt about him.

You missed him fiercely. You felt his loss so strongly, it was like an ache that nothing could relieve. Everything in you wanted to lay in bed and conjure up happy memories but your son needed you.

Lately it seemed like he was the only thing keeping you out of bed.

“Good morning little love.” Your smile for him was genuine. You couldn’t help it when he gave you those little grabby hands.

Your son looked like you, everyone said so. Spitting image absolutely - but every so often you would look at him and see your husband staring back at you and that hurt so much more than you wanted to admit.

You tried to focus on your son, he was babbling happily as you got him ready for his first day at daycare. You had been praying fiercely that he would get a spot before your maternity leave was up. You couldn’t afford to stay home longer than was necessary and in order to be able to afford the spot you were praying for you needed to go back to work. It was a vicious cycle.

You had applied to a few in your area and until last week it had been a steady stream of -unfortunately we have no space at this time- until you found Elias. It was a smaller, more “hands on” daycare but it’s the only option you had within budget.

You would have preferred to send your son to Casterly Rock Child Care but not only could you not afford it, there were never any spots. It was like trying to get your son into private school. Once you were back at work and making your regular salary you could make it work. If he ever got in that is, for now however - it would have to be Elias.

You wanted to get him used to daycare before you went back to work, the thought of leaving him there bawling for you would have meant a horrific first day back. Better to get him accustomed, the lady you had spoken to said that you could start him as early as this week, and you agreed.

“Come on little man, are you ready? You’re going to meet so many other kids! Isn’t that exciting?” He giggled at your happy tone and the sound was always like a balm, his happiness was your happiness. You got his diaper bag ready with everything he’d need and set off.

————

The walk to the daycare had been nice, the fact that it was so close was a big bonus. The daycare seemed to be a big home, the lower level of which had been converted in order to separate the living quarters upstairs. You walked into the foyer and immediately saw a huge portrait of a beautiful young woman.

In loving memory of Elia Martell, this Daycare was opened in her honour

She must have died young, you knew that pain. Your heart went out to her family.

You surveyed the space, it looked intensely homey, there was a big unit packed with kids shoes and bags, big cubbies with names written on them. A big community notice board filled with flyers and local news.

There were sunflowers everywhere, the whole space was bathed in a yellow glow that made it look like part of the sun was stashed away. The brightness of it was lovely, and it shooed away the fear you had at being separated from your son slightly. You had a good feeling about this place.

A woman came at the sound of the door with a big smile on her face. Her gauzy dress floating behind her as she walked over to you excitedly as you got your son out of his stroller. You couldn’t help but smile back at her - she seemed so friendly.

“Good morning! I’m Ellaria, I believe we spoke over the phone.” She hugged you tightly and her openness shocked you, but you quickly recovered and smiled back at her, introducing yourself formally. She looked down at your son and waved at him.

“It’s nice to meet you Ellaria, this is Mylo.” You turned Mylo to face her and she cooed happily at him. He seemed taken with her and you definitely could not blame him. She exuded a calming maternal energy, and she looked like a goddess.

“Hello Mylo, aren’t you just the most handsome little man, may I?” She looked to you for permission before reaching for him. You hesitated slightly but relented. It was better to know now how much crying you’d have to deal with. She took him with grace and bounced him as she held him tight to chest.

“Yes you are such a handsome boy, my girls are going to love you.” She spoke into his hair and it made you happy to see her be so tender with him. You felt better about this place by the second.

“Please be welcome, I’ll give you a tour so you can feel better about leaving him here.” She spoke over her shoulder, urging you to follow. So far no crying - this is good.

You walked through to the back of the house to find a big open room, a mountain of toys stacked neatly in one corner. The main play area was closed off with a wooden gate to keep the little ones from roaming out of sight. There was a row of little cots in another corner for nap time, as well as a long table filled with high chairs and a bench for the bigger kids. You could tell kids liked it here. It was still early enough that only a few children were there by now and by the look of them they were Ellaria’s own, they looked just like her.

“We let the children enjoy their time however they choose, we let them colour or play - they can paint or do puzzles. The only thing we don’t let them do is watch tv. They socialize better without sitting in front of a screen. We don’t separate them by age and encourage them to play or learn together. Elia, watch your sisters while I finish the tour.”

She spoke to a girl that seemed to be in her teens before guiding you outside.

“On nice sunny days we bring the children outside, to play in the water gardens, or in the sand. I forgot to mention it over the phone. If you’re not comfortable with Mylo playing in the water he can be kept in the shade.” She smiled, the yard was huge and for a kid it would be paradise. It was essentially a massive in ground kiddie pool with fountains, you could already see Mylo sitting in the water and splashing around excitedly.

“No it’s okay, I can pack him some beach diapers, he’s like a fish this one so he’ll love it here. I’ll get him some sunscreen too and a hat or something so he can be outside.” You smiled imagining his chubby little legs in the water.

“Perfect, that would be lovely I’m sure he’ll be very happy here, won’t you Mylo.” She bounced him a little and he giggled. It was both a relief and an annoyance that he took to this woman so quickly. You pushed that thought away, this is a blessing and you’re projecting your insecurities.

“I’m really glad you gave me the tour Ellaria thank you. I feel much better about leaving him now.” You were sincere, you knew in your heart this woman would care for your child just as well as you would.

“Oh yes he’ll be happy here, my girls will fight over him I can see it now - and I just know Oberyn will love him.” She had a tiny bit of an accent and her voice was lovely, you could listen to her talk all day. “Okay little one let’s get you inside and settled so mama can go about her day hm?” She led you back inside and placed Mylo into the enclosure with a bunch of colourful blocks to distract him. Just like she had predicted - her girls came over instantly to fawn over him and he loved the attention.

“Thanks so much- I’ll be back at around 5:30 to pick him up. I packed him some extra clothes, his pacifier, diapers, rash cream just in case. Everything I thought he’d need- nap time for him is usually around eleven and if he gets fussy he has his blanket in here.” You showed her and she nodded, taking his bag from you.

“No problem, have a great day, we’ll see you later.” You felt good about leaving him there - seeing him happy and distracted with Ellaria’s girls. You managed to make it all the way home before the tears came.

—-

You took the time away from Mylo to be in bed. You’d wanted to lay and do nothing for so long, imagining it would feel better than it did. It never did.

It was silent in your house which was new, no tv, no baby noises, no crying. Just you and the ghost of your husband. An empty bed reminding you of his absence. You laid there in the quiet, aside from the sounds of cars outside your window, seeing your gauzy curtains fluttering in the slight breeze. Dustmotes dancing on the little light you allowed in.

You were glad then that Mylo wasn’t around, that he has a happy place with other children, just the thought of him splashing around in the water and being around Ellaria’s energy made you feel a little better. You had to try harder.

You couldn’t let your grief overwhelm you, you couldn’t let it get in the way of being a good mom. You had to be better for Mylo. For yourself, but it was hard, it was hard to celebrate Mylos firsts without him. When Mylo crawled for the first time you were a wreck for days. When he first laughed, you cried. All of his firsts were daggers to your heart and it wasn’t fair to him.

These milestones which should have been met with joy and excitement, were often met with misery and tears and that had to stop. You vowed that it would, but not today.

Today was for laying in bed in silence.

——-

You ended up getting there a little earlier than you thought to pick up Mylo and you half expected chaos but the children were well behaved. They were playing happily in little groups of twos and threes. Blocks and puzzles, barbies and dolls. So many activities going on at once. Mylo was sitting in a high chair with his back facing you, someone was feeding him something but you couldn’t see them from where you were.

“You’re early! Look Mylo- mamas here!” Ellaria had more energy than you’d seen in women half her age. It was inspiring, truly.

“Your son is a delight. He’s a lovely boy and very well behaved.” You saw his face poke out from behind the high chair then, a handsome man who looked to be in his late 30’s or early 40’s. His smile was infectious.

“I’m so glad to hear he was well behaved.” You spoke truthfully, you were a little worried he’d be fussy all day.

“A perfect little gentleman weren’t you Mylo?” He spoke with such affection, these people were truly suited for this work.

“Hey little man, what are you eating?” You came around to see him and he perked up to hear your voice, his little hands making the grabby signal you loved so much.

“My sincerest apologies if I’m spoiling his dinner, he saw me eating berries and he practically took them out of my hands.” He smiled warmly down at the baby, he was eating the berries happily, juice and seeds smeared all over his face.

“That’s okay, I’m here early anyway, dinner won’t be for a little while and he loves berries. Don’t you little man?” He made the grabby hands again and ignored the mush.

“Okay little one let’s get you cleaned up so you can go home.” Oberyn grabbed some wipes and began carefully getting him somewhat clean. You couldn’t help but notice how handsome he was, his greying hair did nothing to take away from his allure. If anything it made him look distinguished. He got Mylo decently clean, anything he missed would be taken care of at bath time. He barely finished because Mylo got impatient and cried out for you.

“It’s okay I’m here, let’s get you ready.” You thanked him - he had beautiful brown eyes.

It shocked you that you even thought about how attractive Oberyn was. You hadn’t even thought about another man since you got married, and even less so after your husband died. It was a little distressing but you imagined that it was bound to happen eventually. Another first.

You heard a little girl then, no older than six or seven run up to him and call him dad, she looked just like Ellaria and then it clicked. Of course they would be together. That should have been obvious. They had the same slight lilt in their speech- obviously they had come from the same place. You felt a little foolish then, not knowing exactly why.

“See you tomorrow Mylo.” He called out to him, turning to you after to offer you his hand. “It was lovely to meet you, see you tomorrow.” He shook your hand in his big warm ones.

---

“Good morning! Hi Mylo, are you ready to get bombarded by my daughters today?” Oberyn greeted you at the entrance the next day. He stood in a mustard yellow shirt and linen trousers, he looked like the human version of a sun-god and you had to remember to reign in your thoughts; It was very difficult when he smiled at the both of you. Ellaria came at the sound and you felt chastened somehow.

“Good morning! It’s lovely to see you both.” She smiled and Mylo giggled at her. She took him without hesitation from his stroller and it surprised you how comfortable you were with it. He definitely liked her which was a bonus, she held him tightly and he grabbed playfully at her long curls.

Oberyn stood beside the big portrait of the woman you learned was Elia, you saw the resemblance between them then and your heart wilted slightly. He noticed and looked where your gaze was focused. The smile changed, from an open friendliness, to a sad fondness.

“My sister.” he said softly, the pain was evident.

“I’m so sorry, the grief must be immense.” you meant every word, you knew it to be true.

“It is, but it makes me happy to have this place in her honour. I miss her very much.” He spoke with a fondness that wrapped itself around your heart. You still couldn’t talk about your husband and it had been over a year.

“She is with us in spirit my love.” Ellaria put her head on his shoulder and he hugged her warmly. It felt like you were intruding on a beautiful private family moment, even your son looked like he belonged with them. He made the grabby hands at Oberyn - that hurt more than you could have thought. Another first.

“Yes, you and I are going to have fun in the sand today right?” Mylo giggled at the excited faces Oberyn made and it all seemed so natural, so practised - you had to leave. You were suffocating and the tears were coming fast and heavy. You hurriedly kissed Mylos head as they fell and practically ran out the door. This was looking like another day in bed.

You hadn’t made it home before your cell phone was ringing - the name of the daycare centre lit up on the caller id. You took a couple of deep breaths to settle yourself before answering, you were so embarrassed.

“Hello?” You managed to hold back the sniffle.

“Hello dove, I wanted to make sure you’re okay - please let me know if we did anything to make you uncomfortable.” It was Ellaria and her voice sounded so sincere and worried that it compounded the embarrassment. You felt your face grow hot at what they must think of you.

“Hi - yes, I’m sorry about that. I’m so ashamed no no please it was nothing to do with you guys. I’m happy Mylo is with you. He seemed so happy.” You tried to keep your voice neutral but a crack managed to sneak through while the tears fell. You knew she heard you then. She was quiet for a moment.

“Are you sure?” She prodded gently, you took in her meaning. She was asking far more than she was saying with words.

“Yes - thank you Ellaria - I’ll see you at 5:30pm - have a great day.” You hung up before she could hear you falling apart.

When you got home you felt hopeless. Would this ever get better? You were so exhausted - it always felt like if you just got a full day of sleep it would clear. The cotton in your brain would finally disappear. It never did, but it didn’t stop you from trying.

You could smell him then, feel his arms around you and it did more to calm you than all the sleep in the world. In the back of your mind you knew this was a dream, but he was here and that’s all that mattered.

You can’t keep doing this to yourself.

He spoke into your hair and you could feel it, you felt the air leave his lungs, he felt sturdy wrapped around you in the nameless place you could only ever find in dreams.

Don’t leave me again - please I can’t do this without you. You knew this couldn’t last and you already dreaded waking up.

I’m already gone. He was slipping away.

How could a dream be so incredibly cruel?

---

The weeks leading up to your return to work went by in a blur, you had too much free time and you seemed to spend every single second of it in bed. Constantly chasing the dreams with him.

When Mylo was home it was easier to focus on him and push your grief away, if only for a little while. He was doing well at the daycare, he was happy to see everyone every morning and it made you ashamed to think that they were better suited to care for him than you were.

You were a dark cloud in this happy baby’s life. You had to get better.

---

The first week back at work was difficult to say the least. The first few days especially.

It was hard to concentrate, you were fatigued and your heart was absolutely not in it. You pushed through though, using Mylo to get you through it. You thought about how happy he was to see you whenever you got to the daycare; Ellaria had told you he was thriving and she was certain his first steps would be any day now. That was a double edged sword but you focused on the good. You desperately hoped it would happen at home and not at the daycare, even though you knew you could never truly be sure.

She was right - it happened three days later. He was standing holding onto the high chair when he turned to you and took a couple of shaky steps. You squealed happily and ran to get your phone, you wanted to show Ellaria. You managed to get him to walk a few steps on camera and you were just thinking how excited the two of them would be to see it when you realized the usual sadness didn’t creep in right away. You tried to shake it away and focused on the joy of your baby boy stumbling his way into being a toddler.

---

“Oberyn! Come look! I knew it, see I told you I could smell your first steps little one.” She beamed at him as she called Oberyn to come see the video you excitedly showed her.

“My goodness look at him, so confident! He’ll be running circles around us soon.” He watched the video with such pride - you could almost imagine he was getting excited for his own child. It was lovely to see.

“I was so happy I had to get it on video to show you.” You spoke to him with a big smile. You noticed the look Ellaria gave you as you spoke to Oberyn, it was a curious look. She looked at you with what could only be described as tenderness. She grabbed your arm in hers and pulled you over to separate you. You were almost scared that she had gotten the wrong idea and was going to scold you but that was crazy, nothing had happened.

“It is lovely to see you smile Dove, I know there is something going on, a sadness. You don’t have to explain, but if you need anything, anything at all - please don’t hesitate to give me a call. This is my number. I mean it - any time. Even if you just want to come for tea on the weekend. You are both welcome here always.” She held onto your arm reassuringly and you felt the sincerity in her words. No jealousy, no animosity, pure love. You managed to keep your emotions in check when you thanked her, truly thanked her for her kindness.

“Okay little man I’ll see you later, have fun and don’t drive everyone crazy.” You kissed him on the forehead as Oberyn held him and the three of you said your goodbyes.

It was the little things you noticed at first.

You noticed yourself getting up earlier on the weekends, you woke up before Mylo more often than not which was new. You still had a few bad days scattered here and there but the ratio of bad to good had changed drastically. You caught yourself singing as you cooked a few times and that really shocked you.

When your husband was alive you sang all the time - you never thought you were any good and your husband used to tease you but it was just something you did. You hadn’t done it since he died but every once in a while it bubbled up.

You noticed yourself taking a little bit more care with how you dressed, with your hair, your make-up.

When you had first gone back to work you did the bare minimum. Your clothes and hair were clean, that was as much as you could commit to. Over the last couple of months though you found yourself taking a little more time and a little more pride in your appearance. It felt good to see little glimpses of the woman you used to be, peek her head out more and more.

—-

The thought of Mylos biggest first was weighing heavy on your mind, his first birthday. You thought it best to ask Ellaria, you knew she’d be able to help you throw a little something together - Mylo had grown really close to her girls and you wanted them to be included. She reacted just the way you thought she might when you mentioned it to her.

“Oh but you must celebrate it here! We can throw him a little picnic outside!” She was so excited but you didn’t want to impose.

“You don’t have to do that Ellaria it’s okay, I want to include your girls though, Mylo loves them so much.” You didn’t want her to go out of her way, she did so much for you already.

“Oh nonsense, please indulge me - the weathers been so nice the kids can play in the water gardens! Will you say yes?” She was a hell of a charmer, Oberyn lent his voice to hers and you had no choice.

“Oh yes it must be here, the both of you can spend the day with us, you’d love that wouldn’t you little one?” He spoke directly to Mylo who was all smiles.

“Fine, but please - don’t go too crazy. I will bring the cake and the food.” You tried to put your foot down but they were having none of it.

“Dove the only thing the two of you are allowed to walk through these doors with is a cake. Allow me to take care of the rest.” She was imperious and did not take no for an answer- you couldn’t help but agree.

—-

It was lovely to see Mylo in their care.

He was all smiles, he thrived here. You always knew he was happy here but it lifted your heart to see him with them. He chased after the girls on his little legs, he screamed in joy at them when they tickled him.

What really affected you though, was seeing Oberyn with him.

Oberyn treated him like one of his own. He lifted him in the air, he made funny faces at him, he responded to his baby babble as though they were deep in conversation.

Your husband had been so excited to be a father when you decided to start trying, you liked to imagine that he would have done the same. Mylo deserved a father like Oberyn.

“Oberyn loves him, they’re thick as thieves those two.” Ellaria was watching them with you.

“Mylo really likes him.” You wanted to say more but what could you say to her?

My son is obsessed with your husband and I wish I could have him for my own?

Where the hell did that thought come from? You didn’t want Oberyn? Sure you were attracted, and seeing him with your son did something to your heart that you couldn’t quite put your finger on but him and Ellaria were clearly together and happy.

Plus you weren’t ready to move on anyway. Regardless of Oberyn's status. You tried your hardest to push it out of your mind - Ellaria noticed your silent inner turmoil and you hoped she didn’t take it the wrong way.

“Can I ask you a personal question, Dove? Please be honest I don’t want to offend you.” She held onto your arm like always, she was a very affectionate person and it always made you feel comfortable.

“Yes of course, ask me.” You felt like you knew what was coming and you tried to brace yourself.

“What happened to Mylo’s father?” She asked gently and you saw that she half expected you to avoid the question.

“He passed away, a month into my pregnancy with Mylo.” It hurt so much to say, but it was also cathartic. She had such a calming energy it helped stem the flow of emotions.

“Oh Dove I’m so sorry, that must have been very hard.” She rubbed your hand in sympathy.

“It was, it still is but I’m getting better. I’ve come a long way, believe it or not.” You laughed, it was self-depreciating. She didn’t join in.

“Yes you have, when you first brought him to us I could see the sadness in you. It was bigger than you and almost swallowed you whole. Lately I see it getting smaller and smaller, that kind of grief never goes away. You have no idea how happy I am to see you doing better.” The tears were coming but they weren’t from sadness for once. They were for her, for her kindness towards you and your son. You loved her dearly in that moment. “No tears today Dove, we are celebrating life.” She wiped them off your face and you agreed silently.

Mylo was so happy splashing around in the water it was infectious and you wiped your tears away. You had to put them away for him.

“Look at you little man!” You cooed at him excitedly and he splashed. You sat at the edge of water, taking your sandals off to put your feet in. Oberyn was in the water with the children, he had a pair of swim shorts on so he could sit with them. Mylo was in heaven. He would run to Oberyn, kicking water up into his face as he went and then would burst into excited laughter at the mock-stern face on his arrival. It was lovely to see.

“Show mama how you splash little one - big splashes!” He turned Mylo to you and he showed you excitedly. You smiled the biggest smile you had in you and he kept going. Your legs were soaked and Oberyn was drenched.

It was the nicest day you’d had in so long. The cake was cut, their girls ran around with Mylo while you drank jasmine tea, the food was absolutely delicious.

Oberyn and Ellaria brought out a big gift for Mylo and you had a tiny fight over it. You were so grateful and annoyed that they’d gone out of their way for him.

“It’s nothing! Stop this it’s his birthday of course we got him a present. Enough I insist. Look, he loves it!” She smiled and you shook your head accepting it gracefully.

“He had to have it, we can keep it here so he can use it every day.” Oberyn helped him onto the brand new tricycle and helped him zoom around.

You ended up being thankful you let her talk you into having his birthday there. It was the right choice.

—-

You found yourself thinking about Oberyn more often than not, and it made you feel terribly guilty. Not just for the memory of your husband but for Ellaria. How could you think of him in any other capacity than the owner of the daycare your son went to?

She was so kind to you and you considered her a friend, it felt like a betrayal for you to think of the father of her children this way. You constantly scolded yourself over it.

—

It had been months since Mylos birthday and you felt yourself feeling the big cloud of grief start to fade a little bit. You knew it would never really go away, you had a nagging suspicion that you wouldn’t want it to. As bizarre as it sounded, that intense grief somehow made it seem like it was single handedly keeping the memory of your husband alive.

That didn’t make sense, you knew you didn’t need sadness to keep a part of him close, Mylo was it. He was the physical manifestation of the love between you two.

You used that thought like a mantra. Mylo was it, and he deserved to be happy, he deserved a happy mother and a happy childhood, as happy as you could make it.

Your thoughts of Oberyn persisted however. Sometimes you could swear that his eyes lingered. His smile had a little something in it. It was so confusing and maddening, you felt angry for Ellaria but also an excitement that he could possibly find you attractive. That in itself would cause massive amounts of inner turmoil - an incredible guilt that ate away at you each night when you thought about him. About his kind brown eyes, his dimple- the smooth golden skin.

How could you do this to your husband? How could you do this to Ellaria? It was torture.

You ignored it the best you could.

—-

More time passed, work got better as you slowly felt yourself getting lighter, the fog you constantly found yourself stumbling around in was lifting.

Mylo was talking like crazy, he was growing so much and it felt like you were too.

On a particularly good day you decided to not only do your hair and makeup, but you chose to wear one of your favourite summer wrap dresses to work. You were feeling confident when you walked into the daycare with Mylo.

You heard a tiny gasp when you looked up and saw Ellaria giving you a blinding smile. You felt momentarily self conscious and you wanted to hide but she came over and stopped you.

“Dove you look gorgeous! I love this colour on you! Oberyn does she not look absolutely lovely?” Oberyn was standing behind her and you could see the look on his face as he took you in. It was curious, his eyes were bright and he made you flush.

“An absolute vision - you look radiant.” He wasn’t leering at you, but his look felt very intimate and you felt a little awkward. You tried to convey to Ellaria with your eyes that you were definitely not coming onto her husband but she met you with a knowing look and a wink. You had no idea what she could possibly be trying to convey with that wink but you didn’t want to dwell.

Mylo barreled toward Oberyn and he scooped him up, bringing him close to you so you could say goodbye. When he made his way to the playroom with him Ellaria grabbed your attention.

“He thinks you’re very beautiful, and you are.” She spoke in low tones, it felt like you were gossiping.

“Ellaria - please don’t think I -” she raised her arms with a big smile on her face.

“Don’t even try to apologize sweet girl, I know what you must be thinking. Oberyn and I are not together.” She smiled widely at the look of shock on your face.

“You aren’t? But you call each other my love? You have children?” She laughed, not unkindly.

“Oh we love each other dearly, but we aren’t together any more.” She smiled conspiratorially. “We were together for a long time, and we will always love each other, but we are not romantically involved any more and I am not a jealous woman. Never have been. I want him to be happy.” You could see the truth in her eyes and while it was surprising to find out you’d been wrong about them, it was even more surprising when you understood where this conversation was going.

“Are you playing matchmaker right now?” You were shocked, she could see it written clearly across your face. She smiled at your expression.

“Is that something you’d like sweet girl? I’ve seen the way he looks at you.” The shock was astounding - it silenced you outright.

All those months of guilt over your thoughts about Oberyn, of guilt for Ellaria, for your husband.

“I’ve also seen the way you look at him. No don’t give me that look there’s no reason to feel guilty - he’s a very handsome man and I would think you insane if you told me you weren’t attracted to him.” She smiled at the look of shock on your face.

“Ellaria I don’t know if I’m ready, and looks are just looks.” You were blushing, were your feelings really written across your face like this?

“Dove, you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to, it’s an option. He’s single, you’re single - you are attracted to each other? What’s the harm? He and I are not together and something tells me your husband would want you to be happy. I know it hurts and you have guilt over the possibility of moving on, but you cannot live in pain for the rest of your life. Open yourself up to love, sweet girl. Promise me you’ll think about it? Whatever you decide.” She sent you on your way with a whole mess of thoughts in your head.

You thought about Ellaria’s words for a long time, were you actually ready to date again? Every time you imagined going out with someone it filled your heart with an emotion you couldn’t comprehend, let alone define.

There was excitement yes, you couldn’t lie to yourself about your attraction to Oberyn. All of your interactions with him had been chaste and although you thought you’d seen little glimmers of lingering looks, kind words and casual compliments - you took them in stride. You treated them the same way you treated kind words and compliments from Ellaria. They were just exceedingly nice, affectionate people.

Were you even comfortable dating him? Yes Ellaria had given you explicit permission, and you knew it wasn’t in her to lie for your benefit. Would it be awkward going on a date with him knowing he’d talk to her about it after? Did you care about that? You’d talk to her about it - you knew then. You’d answer any question she had.

Your husbands smiling face popped into your head and it was hard to confront it then, the guilt was a pit you constantly seemed to stumble into.

You tried to put it out of your mind but it seemed as though Ellaria and Oberyn had discussed it.

“Come Mylo, say goodbye to mama so we can go and play.” She hurried him along and gave you a wink as she left Oberyn and you to speak.

He smiled at you as you put Mylo’s things into his cubby, your heart was racing.

“I was wondering if you would like to grab a coffee with me tonight?” He came out with it. You let out a huge breath you hadn’t even realized you were holding in.

“I really don’t want to come in between the two of you, I know Ellaria said you aren’t together but it still feels like you’re a family.” You blurted the words and half expected him to take his offer back but he smiled warmly.

“I can understand why you would think that. I assure you, we are not romantically involved anymore. If you are comfortable knowing she will always be an important person in my life as my friend, and the mother of my children then my offer stands. I’d very much like to take you out.” His smile was infectious, the ever present guilt was stomped away by something else.

“Yes, okay - coffee tonight.” It felt like your face was on fire.

“Lovely, Ellaria can watch Mylo - before you object it was her idea.” He saw that the words were on the tip of your tongue and he raised his hands in a conciliatory manner. You didn’t quite know how to feel about then discussing the two of you dating like this. It was mature. It was progressive; Ellaria was the greatest wingman on the planet.

---

The longer the day wore on and the closer it came to the end of the work day - the more nervous you got. It was hard to focus on anything aside from your after work plans.

It had been years since you’d been on a first date and although you were somewhat comfortable around Oberyn - you didn’t think he’d see you in this light, as much as you secretly hoped.

Your stomach was in knots the whole drive there, you touched up the little makeup you had on with some mascara and a tinted lip balm you had in your bag and tried to get your hair under control. When you finally felt you looked presentable enough you walked into the daycare.

Oberyn was waiting at the front, he was dressed casually but it looked good. You had the suspicion that he had his clothes specifically tailored to him. The colours and the cut of his clothes always complimented his body, his skin tone, his eyes.

He smiled brightly at you, holding out his arm to escort you outside.

“Ready sweet girl?” You couldn’t help but smile at his words.

“Yes, are you sure Ellaria will be okay with watching Mylo?” You hesitated momentarily but he pulled you along gently, reassuring you that they would be fine.

“Would you like to walk? It’s lovely out, and the coffee shop is close.” He held you close, holding your hand with his big warm one where it held onto his arm. He smelled wonderful, like citrus mixed with something spicy.

“Yes that sounds nice.” You agreed, the weather was nice enough and it was still bright out. You felt the butterflies in your stomach, your skin tingling where he touched you.

“You look lovely by the way, I should have told you earlier.” He spoke very nearly in your ear and it sent a shiver down your spine. You blushed slightly.

“Thank you, you look great too, I love this colour on you.” You meant it, he had a way of wearing yellow.

“Thank you, I am a bit vain when it comes to my clothing I’m afraid.” He laughed ruefully, you knew then, he definitely had his clothes tailored.

You both spoke about mundane things as you made your way over, it was nice to have a normal conversation that didn’t revolve around your son. As much as you loved him, being a mother wasn’t the be all and end all of your personality.

You ordered a coffee and he ordered a tea and you both agreed to sit outside to enjoy the lovely evening weather. You kept the conversation going, telling each other of your childhoods, your interests. He asked about your work, and about where you came from. You did the same, eventually the conversation got a little more serious. You couldn’t help but ask him about his relationship with Ellaria.

“Ellaria and I met a long time ago, we were so young. We loved intensely and ended up having four daughters. Everything was perfect and we were very passionate with each other until we weren’t. There was no big fight, no deception. No betrayal. We grew apart as lovers and now have a deeper love and respect for each other. I want nothing for the best for her but I am not in love with her any longer. I push her to pursue romantic love as she does for me.” He was all smiles as he spoke and you could see the affection he had for her.

“It’s really lovely of you both to have ended on such good terms, your girls must love having you both so close.” You meant every word, they were lucky.

“They do, we are fortunate that we still enjoy each other’s company and that we ended that part of our relationship on good terms.” He smiled warmly but it faltered a little, you felt him bracing himself and you Instantly knew what was coming. “I know you’ve been through something sunflower, and if you do not wish to tell me about it I understand.” He reached over and grasped your hand in both of his.

“I know Ellaria probably told you, but I didn’t tell her the whole story. We were together for a long time, since we were kids practically. Always knew I'd marry him. We did the engagement, simple wedding, and then decided to have a baby. A month into my pregnancy he died. It was a freak accident at work. Shouldn’t have happened and here we are. We never lived the life we should have lived and I’m raising our son on my own.” You took a deep breath and for once you didn’t completely dissolve from speaking about him.

You felt him squeeze your hand in his and you smiled weakly at him.

“I’m so sorry to hear that, I understand what it is to lose someone unexpectedly.” You could feel his sadness, it was a mirror image of your own.

“Elia, your sister - how long has it been?” You scooted a little closer to him, it felt as though this conversation was a tiny spark. Something small and delicate that needed oxygen and you both needed to breathe your life into it.

“Yes, my Elia, it’s been just over a decade.” He leaned into you and you mirrored his actions, the both of you connected through grief as well as your hands.

“I’m so sorry Oberyn - your daughter - you named her after her?” You realized then.

“Yes, it hurt me to say her name at first but it wasn’t fair to her. Elia would not want me to be afraid to say her name.” He laughed then, lost in the memories of his sister. You both smiled at each other then and you felt a curious lightness. It was strangely comforting to know that you had this bond, as morbid as it was. There was a deep understanding there that most people -thankfully- couldn’t understand.

You laughed, you shared stories of your childhood- you connected and you realized how much you missed this. You missed the company and you missed talking to someone in this way. He tentatively held your hand as you walked home and you flushed at the simple touch.

When you made it back to the daycare a few hours later Mylo was asleep and Ellaria gave you a look that said we will definitely be discussing this later with a conspiratorial smile.

“Please allow me, I’ll walk you both to your car.” Oberyn carefully picked Mylo up out of the little cot he was sleeping in and you were impressed that he didn’t wake up. Hopefully you could do the same when you got home.

You were silent as you made your way out, you felt butterflies now even though the date had gone well.

Is he going to kiss me?

Do I want him to kiss me?

He buckled Mylo into his seat and then turned towards you to open the door for you, ever the gentleman.

“I had a lovely evening sunflower, would you like to see each other again?” You saw that he was hopeful as he asked and you already knew you would have said yes.

“I’d like that, I had a great time too.” You realized then that you lingered, not wanting to get into the car just yet and he took the opportunity.

He leaned in slowly, watching your mouth, lips parted slightly and back up to your eyes and you knew that he was asking permission. You closed the distance and kissed him.

It was a soft kiss, so soft it made your lips tingle. He kept it chaste, not wanting to push it further and you couldn’t express how grateful you were to him for that. He took your hand in his as you got into your car and kissed your knuckles.

“I’ll see you tomorrow sunflower.” He smiled and waited outside until you drove away.

The smile wouldn’t go away, not while you carefully brought Mylo in, not while you took a shower before bed. Not even while you lay there in the dark. It was plastered in your face and you felt like a teenager again. You could still feel the kiss as you drifted off.

He was hugging you but it was wrong

This didn’t feel like your husband, but you couldn’t let go - the shape of him didn't feel right. You couldn’t see his face, but you did see the yellow swirl of fabric as he wrapped himself around you.

Sunflower - you look lovely

Oberyn? You’re not supposed to be here…This was his space

He’s already gone my love

You jolted awake in a cold sweat. The tears were heavy and hot as you remembered, your dreams were always his space. The one place you could see him, you let the grief engulf you then. Knew you needed to wallow in it full for a few minutes before you could even attempt to let it go.

Part of you wanted to run, leave and never come back. Never see Oberyn again, abandon your life here with Mylo and take off just the two of you; but what good would that do? Would it bring your husband back? No. Would it make you happy? No. Could you bear the thought of pulling Mylo out of a place he loved so much over a dream? No.

Oberyn sensed your sadness when you walked in through the door. He had been waiting for you, it made you feel guilty to see him wilt slightly at your expression.

“Sunflower, have I done something to upset you?” He took Mylo into his arms as he spoke to you and you felt even worse then. How could you explain your feelings?

“No of course not - I had a wonderful time yesterday, I just- I don’t know how to explain it…” You tried to convey your feelings but the words failed you.

“Try, I want to try to understand - let us be honest with each other.” He wasn’t upset, he spoke calmly and you could feel that he meant it. He wanted you to open up, so you did.

“Sometimes, when I dream - I see my husband. Yesterday, I saw you and it hurt me… this is insane, I know it’s just a dream, but I felt like I betrayed him. I think I’m going insane.” You heard how it sounded, the embarrassment threatening to eat you alive in that moment and you swore that if he laughed at you then you’d leave and never come back. He didn’t laugh.

“You feel guilty that you saw me instead of him, that I’m somehow replacing him?” He was gently rubbing soothing circles onto you back as he held your son in his arms. You nodded weakly, tears threatening to overflow.

“Sunflower, I can never replace your husband, nor would I want to. I don’t want you to see me as a substitute for him, I want you to see me as I am. My own person and if this goes as well as I hope it will then our relationship will be something new. Not better, not a replacement- something new altogether, something ours. If you feel like you need more time then say the word and we will hold off.” He looked at you with such tenderness, such understanding, you knew in your heart this was right. You had to let the hurt pass.

“Thank you, I don’t want to wait. I don’t want you to replace him either, I want to continue this with you.” Your voice was thick with emotion and Mylo, sensing your mood reached over to hug you. It felt like a catharsis and you clutched at him. Oberyn held both of you and whispered that he too wanted this with you.

You felt lighter as you drove to work, the pain over losing the love of your life would never go away and not seeing him where you expected to hurt more than you thought, but you had to stop this. He would not want you to live your life this way.

The two of you continued your shy courting, you went out for dinner a few times - coffee dates and long walks. He took you to museums and art galleries - he never pushed you beyond a kiss here or there and you were grateful for that. It had been a long time since you’d slept with anyone new and you were a bit nervous.

You had asked him to come to your place for dinner, that you would cook for him. Ellaria- like always volunteering to watch Mylo for the two of you. It was nice to have him at your place, he blended right in. No shyness as he made himself at home - helping you with dinner, tidying up as you went along. You made a good team.

He complimented your cooking, and asked if he could take some home for his girls to try which you loved. You were packing up the rest when he came up behind you, his arms encircling you and stopping you from continuing. You couldn’t help but smile, it was so nice to have someone hold you like this.

“Thank you for a wonderful meal, sunflower it was lovely.” He kissed your shoulder and you craned your neck, unconsciously giving him more room which he took advantage of. You could feel his breath ghosting along your skin, it sent pleasant shivers down your spine. You turned to face him and the look on his face was so warm, so inviting - it did something to you.

You wrapped your arms around his neck and slowly brought him closer to you, he smiled into the kiss at first, but it disappeared when you licked along the seam of his mouth. He granted you entry and slanted his mouth to better fit yours, taking the opportunity to explore your mouth thoroughly. He dipped you slightly as his hunger for you shined through, it was so good it made you ache, he was a very good kisser and you moaned into his mouth. You grabbed at the back of his head to keep him close while his hands lowered until he boldly grabbed handfuls of your ass. You bit his lip and he groaned into your mouth. He pulled away much too soon.

“I could devour you…” he spoke into your neck, between open mouthed kisses, sucking lightly at the skin below your ear. You felt the arousal pooling in your belly at his words and his kisses and all of a sudden you were desperate for him. You pulled him towards the couch wordlessly and you all but pushed him onto it. You quickly straddled him and kissed him with as much passion and urgency as you could without hurting him. He responded eagerly, matching your intensity. You roughly pulled his clothes and although you could feel his excitement between your legs, he stopped you.

“Sunflower, are you sure?” he gasped when you bit his neck, soothing it quickly with your tongue.

“Yes, I’m ready, I’m so ready..” You kissed him roughly again, conveying just how ready you were by rolling your hips onto him. He quickly moved his arms to take off his shirt, accidentally bumping his head into yours, you both laughed at the absurdity of it. Looking more like teenagers in your urgency to disrobe.

“Are you okay?” you were both laughing as he rubbed at the place where his head connected with yours, smoothing the hurt away from you: in more ways than he realized.

“Yes - a little embarrassed and I feel like we’re both going to have goose eggs in a few hours but I’m fine. Are you okay?” You tried to soothe the pain on his forehead.

His expressions softened a little, he took your hands in his and kissed them.

“Lets try this again.” He slowly took your shirt off and your bra. Then his shirt and held you close to him; he kissed you deeply, the laughter was gone and you felt the arousal again as he trailed his kisses down your body. Your neck, your collarbone, your chest. His tongue licking each nipple like his life depended on it. He was devouring you as promised and you were determined to let him. Your hands held his hair as he continued to kiss and lick at your chest and you couldn’t take it anymore. It had been so long.

You got up and took the rest of your clothes off and he took the opportunity to do the same, the frenzy was back and your eyes widened at the sight of him. Hard and leaking with precum. You hastily climbed onto him, he protested slightly-

“Sunflower, I want to taste you first -” You cut him off.

“We have plenty of time - right now I just want to ride you.” He groaned at your urgency and you grasped him in your hand, pumping him a few times because you needed to touch the velvety skin of his cock. When you finally guided him into you and sat flush to him it was heaven. He was splitting you open and you could have cum just from the noises he made. He grabbed at your ass and helped you roll your hips, the pressure against your clit was almost perfect.

“So tight, so wet for me..” he moved forward quicker than you would have thought, causing you to scramble and clutch at his shoulders. “I’ve got you, I need more.” He lowered you onto the floor in your living room, spreading your thighs wide to settle in between them.

His hips snapped forward again and again and again and the rhythm was tightening and tightening that coil in your belly. You raised your legs to lock them high on his hips - god he was so deep like this - you could barely control the whimpers escaping your mouth with every thrust. He rested his head onto your forehead, the two of you seemingly sharing the same air. It was so good and you were so close, the sound of him slipping into your wet heat over and over was only serving to push you closer towards your climax.

“You’re so wet sweet girl, are you close? I want you to cum, I want to fuck you through your high.” he bit your lip as he spoke and you moaned - all you could do was nod frantically, you were so close. He felt you trying to raise your leg higher and he helped you, leaning onto one arm so he could hook your thigh under the other. You were so open for him and the new angle caused your eyes to practically roll into the back of your head.

“There it is, that’s where you want it huh? Right there? Rub your clit sunflower, make yourself cum on my cock.” he was hitting something white hot and blinding with each thrust and when you obeyed him you came undone, seizing up almost painfully. He didn’t stop. He sped up, chasing his own climax at the rush of your arousal soaking him.

“Can I cum inside?” he was frantic now, his thrusts turning into a steady grind which felt almost sinful.

“Yes yes please, I want to feel you.” you kissed him through it and he fell onto you, you felt him twitching inside of you, felt the cum dripping out of you as he collapsed onto your chest. Both of you breathing hard.

The laughter came then, bubbling up as a giggle at first. Then it was full-throated and it hurt your belly. You had just had sex on your livingroom floor and you felt so light and happy for the first time in so long you couldn’t control it.

He propped himself up onto his elbow to watch you as you laughed, a big smile on his face.

“I sincerely hope that you’re laughing from happiness and not at my performance.” He said it with a grin and you knew he wasn’t at all self-conscious. You slapped playfully at his chest and he snatched up your hand to kiss it. “I love to hear you laugh Sunflower, seeing you like this is wonderful.” he leaned into you and kissed you deeply, making you sigh into his mouth.

“I haven’t felt this way in a long time, I don’t even know what to do with myself.” It almost made you nervous, somehow expecting the other shoe to fall. He saw your emotions written across your face and he pulled you closer.

“Enjoy it, this was good - we both enjoyed it and you deserve to feel good. Now, let’s get up off the floor or I will be useless tomorrow.” He got up, helping you up after. He went to get dressed but you stopped him, pulling him instead towards your room; you pulled him into your bathroom to shower.

As you helped each other wash, you realized how much you missed this kind of intimacy with another person. As he washed your skin, he wasn’t only getting rid of the day, he was washing away part of your sadness, replacing the ache with hope. Hope that this could grow into something bigger, something more serious.

Ellaria wouldn’t let you move, you had to keep reminding her that you had been pregnant before and that you were perfectly capable of making yourself tea. She was having none of it.

It was so strange - you never in a million years would have thought that this kind of relationship would have worked but it did. Oberyn had made a commitment to you and was willing to do anything to make you happy - except be away from his children. Which as far as you were concerned was not an option, you wanted him to be there for them. When he tentatively suggested you moving into the big house and helping with the daycare it seemed almost natural. Ellaria was almost like a sister at this point, and you loved their girls like they were your own.

When you found out you were pregnant, you momentarily thought it might be a problem - that he might not want another child but you were wrong in that as well. He was overjoyed. He was over the moon - he was suggesting new names every day. Ellaria was ecstatic. They doted on you constantly. It was unconventional, but it was your life now and you couldn’t imagine it any other day.

“Good morning my sunflower, and just how is the little prince this morning?” he came down to find you drinking your tea, you were really showing now. He kneeled in front of you, the sun shining in through a window - giving him an ethereal glow.

“How are you so convinced it’s a boy? It could be a girl.” You laughed as he lifted your shirt and kissed your belly. The baby kicked, sensing it’s father. He smiled and pressed his cheek to it.

“I just know it’s a boy-” Ellaria cut him off.

“Oh please Oberyn, you know you only make girls.” She laughed, coming over to rub your belly lovingly. “I know you’re a little princess.” She smiled warmly at you.

You laughed to yourself as they discussed the baby, the light making him look like the sun - shining at you.

Sunflowers always turn towards the sun.

---

Let me know if you do not want to be included in all things Pedro

Tag list: @frannyzooey @foli-vora @danniburgh @sambucky21 @greeneyedblondie44 @lola4pedro @mouthymandalorian @221bshrlocked @artsymaddie @supernaturalgirl @sleep-tight1 @softdindjxrin @wheresarizona @sherala007 @freak-nasty-thick-dick-mando @marydjarin @cannedsoupsucks @thirstworldproblemss @ilikechocolatemilkh @lori-tovar @freeshavocadoooo @hrk-fic-recs @greeneyedblondie44 @max-lords-cyar-ika @princessxkenobi @the-feckless-wonder @kirsteng42

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal fic #pedro pascal x you #oberyn martell #oberyn x reader #oberyn x you #oberyn x female reader #pedro pascal x reader #game of thrones #oberyn x f!reader

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emilia3546 · 3 years

Text

Too Much - Nessian

She can't go on like this, she can't allow anything else to be torn away from her, not Feyre, not the babe that would die with her, and not Cassian. If she could make it all stop, escape from the horrors of life, perhaps she should.

TW Depression, suicidal thoughts

*****

It was too much. All of it. Nesta drew her knees up to her chest as she stared at the empty fireplace, the empty wine glass in her hand. Even that one thing, that blessed oblivion had gone, had been taken from her. Tears threatened to spill over, and she squeezed her eyes shut, you will not cry. You will not cry. You will not cry. Ladies do not show weakness. You will not cry. Her mother's voice mingled with her own as she fought back the tears with the only willpower she could muster.

Not enough. She was not enough, she had never been. She hadn't saved their mother, hadn't saved them from poverty, hadn't stepped up when her sisters had needed feeding, had been glad to let little Feyre do it. She hadn't protected Elain from Hybern, hadn't protected her from Graysen's words, from the Cauldron, Feyre had. She hadn't saved the wall, hadn't taken her place in the war, true, she'd finished the King of Hybern, but it wasn't enough. She'd seen Cassian bleeding out and dying twice, had seen him fall twice, and hadn't saved him. She'd allowed herself to feel, to reach out for Feyre, and had failed. And now, just as she wanted to try again, her little sisters had either pushed her away or were about to be ripped away from the world. Elain had given up. Feyre was dying. It was too much.

She didn't know where her feet were taking her until she was staring out over the expanse of Velaris, the city of starlight, the city she never deserved to lay eyes upon. Countless lights glimmered in the darkness of the summer evening, sounds of laughter reached her, even high above the city as she was. Life, joy, the people of this city were happy, unaware of the dark stain standing above them, the woman, female, cursed never to be allowed to care for anything, to love anything. She couldn't, wouldn't, risk it again, she had cared, had cared so much and had watched it all come crumbling down, she wouldn't do it again. The drinking, the males, the bars had pushed it back temporarily, but Cassian, he had never given up when even Feyre had given up, but not him, never him. Still, she couldn't allow herself to care, to think about what he'd said to her as he lay dying, as she had decided to die with him, it was too late, and she wouldn't watch him be torn away from her as he surely would be if she allowed her heart to feel.

She stared down, down, down. Perhaps it would be easier. Perhaps the world would be better off, Cassian certainly would be. The fear she had expected to overwhelm her failed to come, the guilt, the pain, but no, there was nothing. She felt nothing. There was just the numbness she had become all too familiar with as she stared at the ten thousand-foot drop. One step, that was all it would take, one step, and the world would breathe a sigh of relief, one step and-

"Nesta?" Tears blurred her vision at the thought of him there, and she braced her hands on the rail, she could get over it and - "Nesta," more insistent this time, she must be hallucinating because when she looked over her shoulder, there he was, waiting just inside, by the doorway, a hand outstretched, "Nesta," Dream-Cassian said again and she turned from him. It was a fool's dream, the idea of a life with him, she couldn't let her childish dreams stop her now, he wasn't real, wasn't real, wasn't real. "Nesta." But he sounded so real, the pain in his voice sounded so real, the tremor in that one word sounded so real. She looked back, he hadn't moved, not real, if he were, he'd have dragged her back inside, he was a figment of her imagination, the last survival instinct that she had left, and she would ignore him, just to make it stop, make it all stop, the pain, the grief, the losses, it would all stop with just one step. "Nesta, please," she'd never heard his voice like that, broken, trembling, but she was imagining it, wasn't she? Yes, because he couldn't be standing there, couldn't be holding a hand out for her, couldn't be trembling as he stood, tears slipping down his face. She started shaking, started sobbing uncontrollably, and that monster roiling under her skin answered, had already been simmering, but now it roared awake. She wouldn't need to jump, it would burn her up from the inside out. "Nesta!" He was screaming now, shouting her name again and again, begging, pleading with her to just let him reach her, for her to come back, for her to open her eyes.

She shook her head, and stumbled backwards, her back hitting the rail, and she grabbed onto it, a deep breath, and she opened her eyes, intending to turn, but she met Cassian's burning gaze. His hand wasn't outstretched, not any more, it was pressed against some invisible wall, his siphon on the back of it glaring bright. Some force struck the beast inside her, and it recoiled for a moment. Cassian stumbled a step closer, the invisible wall gone, but slammed into another, just as the beast roared in defiance. She sobbed again, sinking to the floor, face buried in her hands, it was her, it was the beast, because Dream-Cassian had never been here, it was really him, he was real, and she couldn't take his hand, couldn't take it any more. She wanted to to stop, wanted her heart to stop breaking, and she couldn't do it, she'd tried, had tried it their way, had tried to let him help her, but it wasn't possible, and she wanted it to all stop. She turned to crawl away, but the desperate sound from behind her halted her in her tracks,

"Please, Nesta, sweetheart, please, just let me in, let me help," she glanced back once more as she forced herself to her feet. It wasn't that she didn't believe him, she knew he loved her, that he'd never stopped, and she knew that her heart wanted to love him in return, but to open herself up for more hurt, it was easier to feel nothing. She turned away, "I can make it stop, sweetheart, I just need you to trust me, I can make the pain go away, I just need you to drop the shield, let me reach you, please, Nesta." He could make it stop? Make it go away?

"Make it go away?" She breathed, her voice quiet, barely audible even to her own ears, but Cassian nodded, holding out his hand again,

"I - we - can make it stop, make it all go away, we can make it better, sweetheart, I just need you to drop that shield," she shook her head, her hands trembling,

"I can't." It was the truth, this wasn't her, it was the beast, the monster inside her, and she couldn't control it. Cassian's hand remained steady, still reaching out for her, and his gaze never deviated from hers,

"All I need is one chance, just let me reach you," she shook harder, some sort of feeling creeping back into her bones, fear, no it was more powerful than that, hope. It was hope, "I need you to trust me."

She did trust him, and if he could make it stop. She needed no more encouragement. She attacked the beast. Furiously struck out at it, screaming for it to go away, to go away and never come back, but it struck back, and she screamed again. Cassian shouted her name as she demanded it leave her alone, she struck again, and stumbled. No, no, no, no, she wanted that chance, wanted it now, more than ever, wanted to try for that childish dream, Cassian would make it stop, he'd make it stop hurting. But she was stumbling, her back hitting the rail again, but this time when she grabbed out at it, she missed, and the wind rushed past her ears as she fell.

She sobbed in fear as she grabbed out blindly at the railing, but it slipped from her fingers. Fear, fear that she hadn't felt before enveloped her, fear for herself, not Elain, not Cassian, not even Feyre, fear for herself. But she was tumbling through the air, spinning over and over again, the wind buffeting her around as she screamed, her tears ripped away by the wind. Perhaps it was for the best, perhaps it was the Mother's way of showing her the best path. The beast roared in delight at the victory, at her weakness, but she struck out again, beating it down, down, down, she would not die with it in control.

Something inside her knew the moment it had lost, the moment the beast slunk away, like that horrible dog she'd seen as a child, the one that was muzzled and frightened of its handler. She had won. A flash of black over the balcony and red light seared her vision as she closed her eyes, she was death, and she did not fear it. The hope she'd had rose in her throat, and tears slipped past her closed eyelids, but that hope was gone, it was too late.

The ground was coming, she would hit it hard, and she was ready, ready for death.

That impact never came, one moment she was falling, the next she was pressed against a warm, hard chest, a strong pair of arms holding her tight, her head tucked under his chin, familiar wingbeats sounding in her ears, the scent of salt, of tears that were not her own reaching her. But that scent, it was the one she'd been born to recognize, the one that she had started to look for when she was afraid.

"Cassian," she breathed, and wrapped her arms around his neck, he tears returning full-force as she clung to him, to life, "I didn't want to," she managed, "I didn't mean to fall, I was, I was going to take your hand, I, I don't want to die," she sobbed,

"I know," he breathed, his voice deathly calm, quiet, even as he trembled with his own fear, "I've got you, sweetheart, I've got you."

She clung to him even as he gently set her down back in the House, her breathing speeding up, faster, faster, faster, and she couldn't' stop it. He was there, holding her face in his hands, and he was saying something, something she couldn't hear over the roaring in her ears, but she gripped his wrists, clinging on to him, clinging to life, no, she was not going to die, she refused to die. Cassian's gaze met hers, and she sobbed, the break allowing her to draw in a deeper breath, his gaze fierce, unfaltering as the thumb he brushed over her cheekbone. The roaring faded at she stared into his eyes,

"I've got you," he said again, and she nodded, allowing him to coax her breathing back to normal as she cried silently, collapsing into his arms once he let go of her face. She pressed into him, his warmth, his scent, the safety that being in his arms provided. Here, with him, she was safe, she could do it, so long as he was beside her, holding her up, keeping her safe, she could do it, would do it. He was everything, and as she looked up to his face again, she realized, she was home, it was him. Cassian.

tags: @teagoddess99 @brenda5601 @azrielsdarling13 @1helena @shisingh @valkygwyn @soffiiione @toolazymyguy @awesomelena555 @trashforazriel @dealingdifferentdevils @ximena-inlovewithazwyn @almosttenaciousmoon @aightimmaheadoutsblog @alexoik @selfdestructionfetish

#fanfiction #fanfic #acotar #acosf #acosf spoilers #a court of thorns and roses #a court of silver flames #nesta #nessian #nesta x cassian #nesta archeron #cassian #angst

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journalofimprobablethings · 3 years

Text

**SPOILERS FOR MAG 200**

Where you go, I go. That's the deal.

Martin and Jon cling to each other as the Panopticon collapses around them. Martin's grip is iron tight and blood-slick, and he clutches Jon tight to his chest as though he can make up for the way that Jon's grip is loosening, fading, his hands going slack against Martin's back, his head heavy on his shoulder.

Their world is dissolving around them.

Or maybe they are dissolving out of the world. Martin knows that the walls around them are crumbling, can feel the floor beneath them shudder and shake, on the brink of dropping them into oblivion below. But there is a distance to it, like he's watching it happen to them from somewhere slightly outside his body. Stronger than any sensation of collapse is the pull of the tapes, like Jon's compulsion, like gravity, pulling him away and down and out of this world into somewhere else.

Martin clings tight to Jon--his Jon, so impossibly small and terribly still now in his arms--and he closes his eyes, and he falls.

This is not the world. This is a world.

Somewhere else, a man wakes up, his heart pounding from a nightmare he can't quite remember.

There was chaos, upheaval, a sensation of falling--and something--someone?--that he was trying to hold onto. Someone he couldn't bear to lose.

He doesn't remember who they are, or where they might have gone. He is only left with the desperate feeling that his world is collapsing.

A howling, empty grief fills his chest and he curls up in his bed, and he cries, and he doesn't know why.

Somewhere else, another man wakes with a gasp on a cot in a climate-controlled storage room, his hand pressed to a nonexistent wound in his chest. He can still remember the feeling of the knife plunging into his heart.

He doesn't understand the overwhelming sense of relief he feels when his assistant taps timidly at the door, asking him if he would like a cup of tea.

Somewhere else, Jon wakes in an empty field, a scar seared across his chest. Martin's hand is held in his, and he has a brief heady moment of joy as he realizes they made it before he turns to look at Martin lying next to him and sees the blue of the sky reflected in his open, staring eyes.

Somewhere else, it's Martin who wakes in the barren field, and Jon who stares emptily up at the clear blue eye-less sky.

The wound in his chest is still bleeding.

Somewhere else, two skeletons lie in a field splashed blue with forget-me-nots, wisps of early-morning fog dissipating around them. They lie facing each other, fingers still entwined. If you look close, one of the skeletons is missing two ribs.

The mist that swirls around and through them is just mist, fading quickly in the growing heat of a clear day, and beyond the field the world turns on, full of ordinary hopes and fears, love and loss, beginnings and endings. The wind blows gently, tossing the heads of the flowers and sending a scattering of petals over the bones.

Somewhere else, Martin Blackwood tears through the Tube station on his way to work and just manages to squeeze onto the train before the doors close. He breathes a sigh of relief and leans back for a moment against the wall of the train, then stumbles and barely catches himself as it jerks into motion. He stammers an apology to the man standing next to him, and wishes he could hide the flush of red that spreads over his cheeks and ears when the man smiles back at him, his eyes a rich, warm brown.

Somewhere else, Jonathan Sims stands on tiptoe in the canned goods aisle of the supermarket, debating the merits of giving himself a boost by stepping on the lower shelf against the possibility of someone telling him off.

Suddenly a hand reaches over his shoulder and pulls down the can of peaches he was reaching for. The man hands it to him with a shy, apologetic smile, and Jon smiles back and stutters a thank you.

He thinks as he walks away that the man's eyes were the same color as the sky.

Somewhere else, Jon offers his new co-worker a hesitant, awkward smile and a soft thank-you as Martin sets a mug of tea on his desk.

They have only worked at this library together for a week, and Jon already knows he will never enjoy any tea as much as he enjoys Martin's. Martin is working on not turning red every time Jon smiles at him.

Neither of them have ever heard of the Magnus Institute, and when they sleep, their dreams are full of ordinary, mundane fears and oddities.

Most of the time, they don't remember them at all.

Maybe, maybe everything works out, and we end up somewhere else.

Somewhere else, two men are in the kitchen of a small cottage in Scotland, making breakfast. They move around each other with the ease of long practice, slicing toast, cracking eggs, dropping bacon into a pan to fry. One of them drops a quick kiss on the other's cheek before reaching into the pan to steal a piece, and the other makes a move to bat his hand away, laughing. The laugh comes easily, lines at the corners of his eyes worn deep with years of smiles, as evident as any of his scars. The first man munches his prize as takes the whistling kettle off the stove and pours boiling water into the waiting teapot, swirling it to warm the ceramic before adding tea and more water and leaving it to steep.

He brings the pot to the table just as the other finishes plating up the food, and pours two mugs, adding milk to one and an absurd amount of sugar to the other. He passes the sugary mug over and is met with a smile and a soft thank you that he will never, ever tire of.

They sit at the table, eating breakfast, drinking tea, watching the mist burn off the hills through the kitchen window. They talk of plans for the garden and what they need from the market for dinner, the conundrum of sleeping arrangements for when their friends come up from London next week to stay. The morning light illuminates a precarious stack of books at one end of the counter, umbrellas and a cane in a stand by the door, a refrigerator covered in lists and scribbled recipes, in pictures of smiling faces and holiday cards and several clumsy children's drawings.

After breakfast, they wash up and leave their dishes to dry while they make their way out into the brilliant morning, hand in hand. They walk along the familiar path up into the hills, a path they have walked a thousand times and will walk many more, knowing, with a confidence they once would have barely dared to dream of, that the path will always deliver them safely back home.

#tma #jonmartin #martin blackwood #tma jonathan sims #mag 200 #mag 200 spoilers #cw blood #cw death #this is a tagging experiment so apologies if you've seen this one before #long post #finale feelings

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ugly-crying-over-bucky-barnes · 3 years

Text

The Love Yet Known Part 3

Summary: Tommy Shelby needs to make sacrifices to ensure the safety of his family. So he concocts a plan to marry off his sister to the one and only Alfie Solomons.

Late that summer after everything was settled with Luca Changretta, Tommy invited Eliza and Alfie to visit Arrow House in Warwickshire. Since Tommy was the one who initiated it, he figured it would be a nice, quiet few days. Charlie clearly missed his aunt dearly. The little boy was used to always having her around to entertain him. He always asked after her and became cross when Tommy said she was married, that’s why she didn’t live with them anymore.

“Well, when is she not going to be married?” Charlie would ask.

Tommy just chuckled and shook his head. “I don’t think there will ever be a day when that happens, my boy.”

No one was blind to the growing affection Eliza and Alfie had from their wedding day on. In fact, it was quite a sight to see when the two were together. Such a shy thing like Eliza had a calming effect on Alfie, who rarely seemed to be in a sour mood when she was around. Likewise, he seemed to bring Eliza out of her shell a little bit. She had many friends in Camden and found herself more active in the community than she ever imagined she would be.

Tommy never gloated, well he tried not to, but he liked to boast about how he made the match between Eliza and Alfie.

Still, Arthur and a few of the other Peaky boys were having a hard time accepting Alfie into their sacred spaces. They considered him their sister’s husband, not a brother-in-law. They had a petty habit of writing to Eliza and addressing it with her maiden name. Arthur felt sick to his stomach if he saw his dear sister’s name next to a name like Solomons.

Alfie wasn’t very hospitable either. He wouldn’t let go of old habits of trying to rile Arthur up. He only ever invited a few of Eliza’s family members to visit them in Camden. None of them even knew the married couple shared a beachfront home in Margate. Alfie would shudder to think if the Shelbys got an idea of inviting themselves over for a holiday.

But all things considered, life was going well.

~~~~~~~

Alfie helped Eliza out of the car. “This place gets bigger every time I visit; I swear it does.” He muttered.

His wife laughed softly. “Well, hopefully, you don’t get lost.”

Charlie came running outside to greet his aunt. “Auntie Liza!”

“Hello!” Eliza beamed and stooped down to pick her nephew up.

“Oh, love, be careful.” Alfie winced. It was a good thing Eliza wasn’t easily irritated. Because once Alfie found out she was pregnant, he became overprotective. He insisted on carrying things for her, let her sleep in as long as she liked, and had someone come in to take over any housekeeping duties that she might’ve done. Not that Eliza was keen on keeping anything clean anyway. Alfie knew he was being annoying, but he wanted to make sure that his child and the mother of that child was well kept. He felt it was his duty to ensure their safety and health.

Charlie gave Alfie a side-eye. “Hi, Uncle Alfie.” He said in a less jovial voice.

“You well, Charlie?”

“Mhm.” The little boy shrugged.

Eliza set him down and reached for her suitcase but Alfie stepped in. “I’ve got it. Go on ahead.”

She gave him a kiss on the cheek and followed Charlie inside to find Tommy.

~~~~~~~~~

At dinner that night, it was just the four of them. Tommy, Lizzie, Alfie, and Eliza. They chatted casually about things, nothing too consequential. Then, during dessert, Eliza felt it was a good enough time to tell them.

“So, Alfie and I have news.” Eliza reached for her husband’s hand under the table and gave him a smile.

“You’re pregnant.” Tommy finished for her.

Alfie’s brow furrowed. “And what on Earth gave you that impression?” He snapped. He knew how important and special it was for Eliza to tell everyone about the baby, so Alfie was a bit ticked off that Tommy had affectively ruined the moment.

Tommy glanced up from his whiskey glass. “Am I wrong?”

“Well…no.”

“But how did you know?” Alfie asked again.

“Because of the way you’ve been acting around her. Anyone could tell if they’ve known you long enough, Alfie.” Tommy answered casually. “I haven’t seen her carry anything at all today.”

Eliza just chuckled. “Well, I didn’t know we made it that obvious.”

“You and I will have a lot to talk about then,” Lizzie spoke up.

“Why? Oh…oh really?” Eliza’s eyes lit up. “You’re pregnant?”

The two sisters-in-law got up to hug one another. Surely it was special knowing there was someone else walking a similar path. After all, it’s not like their husbands knew what it felt like.

“Well, seems we’ll be coming around much more often then, Tom.” Alfie sighed. Well, if his wife was happy, then he would drive her back and forth from London to Warwickshire as many times as she liked.

~~~~~~~~~

Lizzie gave birth to Ruby when Eliza was still seven months along. Seeing and holding the baby girl in her arms was such a lovely occasion. It was almost like a hint at what was to come. It would be much more surreal though, that’s what Lizzie told her.

“It’s so strange holding her. All of a sudden, you’ve got this little life. One you’ve waited so long to hold and she’s yours to care for and love. It’s really overwhelming.” Her sister-in-law tried to explain as best she could.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Now all there was to do was wait a little longer. The nursery was all set up and ready. Meanwhile, the midwife was on call whenever the first signs of labor came.

In the blistering cold of February, Eliza was due any day. Alfie started to work from home just in case she went into labor and he needed to be there for her. He didn’t get out of bed as early, but he was awake much earlier than his wife on most mornings.

It was a peaceful time where he could just bask in the warm feelings of holding his beloved wife close to him, all cuddled up in bed. Cyril keeping their feet warm at the end of the bed. His soft breathing sometimes syncing up to Eliza’s heartbeat.

Alfie would wrap an arm around her waist, resting a hand over her swollen stomach. There, he could feel his child kicking. The emotions that overcame him when he felt that little pressure against his hand were indescribable. He was thrilled, excited, nervous, afraid. He didn’t know how he would measure up as a father. Didn’t know how his line of work would impact the life of his child.

Every possible worst-case scenario had run through his head since Eliza told him she was pregnant. His worst fear was losing her and the baby. Or losing the baby and having to cope with their shared grief. Or losing Eliza and having to be a single father while grieving his wife.

The possibilities kept him up at night, practically driving him mad with anxiety. But then there were the good thoughts. The joy he would feel when he first held his child. The pride of seeing every milestone from first words to first steps.

It was overwhelming to think about and it didn’t help that the wait was making him even more anxious.

~~~~~~~~~

But finally, the day came when Eliza gave birth to a healthy baby boy. It was a relief to hear that his wife and son were both going to be perfectly fine. As Alfie climbed the stairs to see them, he felt his hands trembling with anxiety and anticipation.

What if he did something wrong?

What if Eliza thought he wasn’t a good father?

What if he just wasn’t enough?

All the self-deprecating thoughts seemed to vanish into thin air when he saw his son swaddled in his mother’s arms.

Eliza gave her husband a tired smile. “He’s beautiful, Alfie.” She whispered with tears in her eyes.

Alfie walked over to the bed and peered over. “Fucking hell, look at all that hair, aye?” He chuckled with tears welling up in his eyes as well. “Look at him, he’s about as perfect as you can get, ain’t he?” He kissed Eliza’s forehead. “I can’t ever repay you for giving me such a perfect gift.”

“I think you can with a few dozen nappy changes.” She teased back.

“Done deal.” He grinned and gently cradled his son’s head.

“You can hold him.”

Alfie’s nerves pricked at him again as he sat down on the edge of the bed. Eliza gently placed the newborn in his arms, looking over him with such fondness.

“There you are.” He said softly. “Been waiting quite some time for you, mate.”

Eliza rested her cheek on her husband’s shoulder as he spoke to their son. “What should we name him?” She asked.

They had passed around a few names over the course of her pregnancy but none of them particularly stood out to either of them.

“How about Asher?”

“Is that Jewish?” Eliza asked.

Alfie nodded. “Means blessed. Was one of the twelve tribes of Israel, back in ancient times.”

She smiled. Truly, she felt blessed. Not just by the birth of her son, but by everything. She had found her soulmate, fell in love with him, married him, and now produced such a beautiful little boy. Her heart felt so full in her chest. “I love it. I think it’s absolutely perfect.”

~~~~~~~~~~

A month after Asher was born, Eliza brought up the idea of bringing him to Warwickshire to meet her family. Tommy was apparently arranging a dinner to bring the whole family together. That way they could catch up on things without being busy with work and the children could all see their cousins.

Alfie bristled at the idea. It was one thing to spend a couple of days with just Tommy and Lizzie. But to be around the whole Shelby family, it was not a pleasant thought. He almost felt as if he’d be alone, surrounded by people who didn’t quite trust him. People he didn’t really trust either.

“Won’t be a pleasant trip, tryna get there with a newborn.” He thought of the mistake on the fly.

“It’ll be fine, it’s not too far and I’m sure Asher will sleep the whole way there. If he doesn’t then it isn’t the end of the world.” Eliza assumed her husband was just concerned about the baby’s sake.

“Dunno…”

“Then maybe we invite everyone here. It’ll be a little crowded but we’ll make it work.” She suggested to eliminate the idea of traveling.

Having the Shelbys in his space, his territory was an even worse idea. “Tommy’s place is big enough, we ain’t gonna have that many people over here.”

“So…” She looked at him. “Then we’ll go to Tommy’s.”

Alfie didn’t want to outright say he didn’t want to be around her family. He was afraid it might break her heart. But he wasn’t going to pretend that it was a joy to be around them either. He stifled a groan, feeling backed into a corner for sure. “I mean…if it’ll make you happy, love.”

“I want to see Ruby and I want everyone to meet Asher.” She replied, able to hold her ground against him when she chose to. “So yes, it would make me happy.”

There was no arguing that. His wife’s happiness was one of the few things that mattered to him. “Alright then, we’ll go. I won’t be a bother about it.” He promised, earning a smile and a kiss from him.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Asher slept through most of the car ride over to Warwickshire. Eliza appeared happy to be seeing her family and to introduce them to her son.

The sun was starting to set as they entered the estate. Alfie felt on his guard as he walked in beside Eliza, already hearing the colorful language coming in from the parlor. There was laughing and yelling coming from upstairs, most likely the children playing with one another.

Polly saw them coming in first and rushed over to embrace her niece. “Look at you. Motherhood suits you, my dear.” She turned to Alfie who was holding his son. “And there he is. Looks very healthy. You must be very proud, Alfie.”

“Yeah.” He smiled slightly. Leave it to Polly to get on his good side even when he was tense. “He’s a lot of work, ain’t he, but it’s rewarding.”

Polly could see the hesitation in Alfie’s eyes. He was holding Asher protectively to his chest, his eyes scanning across the room almost looking for potential threats. She decided he would have to warm up to the idea of handing his son over for anyone to hold.

Eliza didn’t appear to catch onto her husband’s discomfort. “Alfie, I’ll take him.”

“S’alright, love. I don’t mind.”

“Well, let Polly hold him for a bit.” She suggested.

“It’s alright,” Polly replied gently to her niece. “You two make yourselves at home. I’ll get you a drink, love. Alfie would you like something?”

“No, thank you.” He replied a bit relieved that Polly hadn’t pushed the matter.

But then Arthur swooped in and gave his sister a bear hug. “Glad you came, chey.”

Eliza giggled and hugged him back. “Hi, Arthur.”

“Good to see ya. Now, where’s the little one, aye?” The eldest Shelby’s eyes settled on Alfie with a look of slight distaste.

Eliza stepped in to try and keep the atmosphere light and festive. “This is Asher, he just turned a month old.” She reached over to adjust the little cap on the newborn’s head. His dark hair was sticking out from underneath it.

“A month already.” Arthur shook his head. “Well, wish we could’ve been there earlier.” He gave his brother-in-law a stern look. As if Alfie was purposefully keeping Eliza hidden away in Camden Town to keep her away from her family.

“Arthur…” She sighed. But it was too late. The powder keg had already been lit.

“Well, mate, it weren’t the easiest delivery. Eliza had to take a bit of time to recover.”

“If Pol had been there like she wanted then maybe it wouldn’t have been so difficult.” Arthur wasn’t standing down from the challenge. In fact, he welcomed a reason to argue.

“Arthur, that’s enough.” His aunt interrupted. “We’ve had this discussion before but it’s over. The baby’s already born.”

But neither man listened to a voice of reason. “She had the best midwife in Camden Town there. Are you insinuating I wouldn’t get the best for me wife?”

“I’m saying you’ve been keeping our sister from seeing her family.”

“She’s got a mind of her own, mate, she can go wherever she wants whenever she wants.” Alfie crossed his arms over his chest.

“Please, will you two just stop?” Eliza begged.

“Did she have a choice when Tommy sold her off to you?” Arthur’s voice raised and Eliza knew she had to step in before the rest of the party started to take notice of the brewing storm between her brother and husband.

“Alright, enough. You two are making a scene and it’s ridiculous.” She took Asher from Alfie’s arms when he was caught off guard and handed the baby to Polly. Before her husband could protest, she grabbed his arm and dragged him into another empty room of Arrow House.

“You’re just going to leave him?” Alfie spat.

“With my aunt who I trust with my life? Yes!” She snapped in an exasperated tone. “What on Earth has gotten into you? I thought this would be a nice visit, I didn’t think I had to tell you to be on your best behavior. But apparently, I should’ve because you’re acting like a child!”

“Your brother started it!” His normally soft-spoken wife gave him a death glare. Alfie backtracked when he realized the childish response was exactly what Eliza was talking about. “I’m sorry.” He mumbled. “I just don’t like him treating me that way. Like I’m some monster who kidnapped you.”

“Oh, Alfie.” She sighed and wrapped her arms around his neck to pull him close. “You know Arthur and you know that’s not true. You’ve given me everything and I’ve never been so happy. But we can’t make them see that. If they don’t see it then that’s their fault.” She kissed his cheek. “We know the truth.”

He grumbled. Of course, she was right, seldom was she wrong. It just didn’t help that when they went back to the party, Arthur would still be the same. “M’trying, love.”

“I know you are.” She smiled. “They’re difficult. But you are too.”

He chuckled. There was no arguing that.

“But now Asher is sort of a buffer. You just have to let them hold him.”

Alfie looked disgruntled. He knew intuitively that none of the Shelbys would bring harm to the child. But there was still that protective instinct that he could never totally shake. If he let his guard down, bad things happened. The only time that wasn’t the case was when he was alone with Eliza and Asher. That quiet space where everything good in the world seemed to line up. Nothing outside of their warm home mattered.

“Alright.” He relented. It seemed reasonable that if he played along, the sooner they would be out of there.

Eliza smiled and kissed him softly. “Try to enjoy yourself.” She said before going to return to the party.

~~~~~~~~~

Alfie followed and found Polly was still holding Asher. But Ada and Lizzie were cooing over the baby. Tommy was sat next to his aunt, holding Ruby and smiling at his new nephew. Even Arthur was nearby smiling at Asher.

Alfie did his best not to hover even when his son was passed from relative to relative. It seemed to make Eliza happy to see her family holding her newborn. She spoke proudly about him. The meaning of his name, his blue eyes, how much Cyril adored him, and everything else that had happened in his short life.

After a while, Alfie began to relax slightly. Although he always kept an eye out to see who was holding Asher.

Toward the end of the night, his son was finally placed back in his arms. Asher was fast asleep despite the Shelbys having a good time with a good amount of alcohol. Alfie gently touched his cheek with his thumb. “They can be exhausting, aye?” He murmured quietly. “Better get used to it I suppose. Don’t think they’re going anywhere.”

Asher yawned and shifted slightly in his swaddle.

Alfie glanced up when he heard someone clear their throat. Arthur was standing nearby, a glass of whiskey in hand. “Mind if I sit?” He gestured to the empty armchair near the sofa Alfie was sitting on.

“Ain’t my house, mate.”

Arthur shrugged and sat down. “So, how does it feel, aye? Must get no sleep with him. And Liza, I doubt she ever gets up. Would take a train to wake her when she was younger.”

It was a strange olive branch but Alfie chuckled. “Yeah, it’s tough tryna get her up to nurse him. S’alright though. Never been a big sleeper myself.” He admitted.

“Yeah, war will do that to you.” Arthur agreed after a sip of whiskey.

They were so similar, it was a wonder that they butted heads so often. They were veterans with deep scars, liked to solve problems with their fists, hardly flinched at death, and yet fiercely cared about their kin. But bad blood was hard to wash out, especially in their line of work.

“I’d always be up with Billy when he was that young. It’s good, keeps your mind busy.” He added.

“They’re a good distraction.” Alfie nodded, looking down at his son. “Changes a lot of perspectives on life.”

Arthur looked across the room to see Eliza smiling at him. Of course, she’d put him up to it, insisting that if he wanted to see more of her, he would be nicer to her husband. Arthur complained but she wasn’t hearing it. It seemed that marriage and motherhood had really taught her when to put her foot down. But sitting there with his brother-in-law, Arthur seemed to realize that there wasn’t much else he could do. Here they were, both fathers to a son, both husbands. They were too old to be the vicious fighters they were as young men. It was too tiring.

Alfie came to a similar conclusion. They could fight about the same things that happened so long ago. There wasn’t anything new to argue about. Just the grudges they both held. Which were equally as tiring. “Here.” He held Asher out.

Arthur looked a bit surprised but decided not to make a scene out of it. He set his whiskey glass down and cradled his nephew to his chest. “Looks like Liza when she was a baby.” He chuckled. “She had so much hair. Our mother was shocked. I hope he doesn’t cry as much as she did. God, she was noisier than John ever was.” His eyes saddened at the mention of Eliza’s twin. It felt like ages ago that they’d lost John and yet, it was still so fresh.

“That’s his middle name, you know,” Alfie said. “Asher John.”

Arthur got a little choked up. “He’d be thrilled if he was here.” He tried to laugh off his grief but it was obvious how much it hurt. “Don’t think he’d ever stop bragging about it.”

Eliza came over, so happy to see the two men getting along for the first time ever. She kissed Alfie’s temple as she sat down next to him.

A quiet lull fell over the room. The warm chatter of family radiated with the fire and drinks. Alfie felt his shoulders relax while he wrapped an arm around Eliza’s shoulders. Things could be okay if he allowed them to be. So he did.

Permanent Tag: @papa-geralt-of-cirilla @biba3434 @kimmietea @karmezii @enrapturedbythemoon @vampgirl1997 @tarafaithe @evelynshelby

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#alfie solomons #alfie solomons imagine #alfie solomonsxoc #alfie solomonsxofc #tommy shelby #tommy shelbyxlizzie stark #polly gray #arthur shelby #lizzie stark #charles shelby #ruby shelby #oc #ofc #john shelby #season 4 #season 5 #tom hardy #tom hardy character #tom hardy fanfiction

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certifiedskywalker · 4 years

Text

Dating Luke Skywalker Would Include...

Anonymous said: hello, how are you? was wondering if i could get some meeting and dating (young) luke skywalker x reader headcanons please but no pressure! have a nice day :)

AN: Thank you darling, for asking! I’m well, a little tired but well! I hope this meets (and exceeds) your expectations!

Is it cliche to say you meet Luke in the Rebellion?

However cliche it is, your meeting was a perfect whirlwind.

Tensions were running high and the Empire was breathing down your neck.

A move had to be made and, luckily for the Rebellion, the Princess of Alderaan had returned with reinforcements.

Though, at first glance, her saviours were not much to look at.

“They rescued you?”

“It was more of a group effort,” Leia admitted, taking the data pad from your hands. “If it wasn’t for them, I would have been killed. If it weren’t for me, well, so would they.”

As she spoke, you watched the blond, the one you believe you heard Leia call Luke, bounce from pilot to pilot.

He looked as eager as a protocol droid at a linguistic convention.

The noise around you seemed to muddle as you watched Luke chat with the X-Wing crews.

Even with the distance between you two, you could tell that he was cute.

Cute didn’t last long in the Rebellion; you frowned at the thought.

“That one doesn’t bite,” Leia said, breaking you from your thoughts. “The smuggler on the other hand...he’s rough around the edges.”

“Do you think they’ll stay with us?”

When you looked at Leia, waiting for her reply, you saw that her brown eyes held hints of grief in them.

“Luke will. His heart is in this fight, just like the rest of us.”

You cocked a brow at her. “Then why do you look so sad?”

Leia turned her eyes back to the data pad you had given her.

“I could introduce you if you like.”

Your chest tightened at Leia’s suggestion and, despite being many meters away, checked to see if Luke had somehow overheard the Princess.

“I’m not sure that would be-”

“Wise? When we’re on the raging end of war?”

“Exactly.”

Leia sighed and shook her head. “My parents once told me that inaction is the worse path one could take. In politics, in life, in love. Even if it is small, movement forward towards a brighter future is the best choice. Always.”

It was hard to ignore the words of Leia’s deceased, adoptive parents.

You could see that she was hurting, still aching with the loss of her entire world.

Reaching over, you grabbed her hand and gave it a comforting squeeze.

“Then introduce me.”

It seemed that Leia was more than willing to step away from the rush and chaos that the Empire brought to the Rebellion’s door.

Still holding your hand, Leia dragged you over to where Luke was fluttering about.

He was midconversation with Briggs, a skilled X-Wing pilot from Tatoonine, when Leia tapped him on the shoulder.

In a flash of blond hair, you caught your first glance of his shining blue eyes.

Then you saw his smile: lopsided and charming.

In that moment you knew you were completely gone.

What ever the future had in store, what ever battles, wars, and losses, you knew you wanted to be by Luke’s side.

It was like electricity the like of which you never felt before.

“Luke, this is Y/N, my friend and fellow representative of the Rebel Alliance.”

Your face warmed as Luke looked you over.

Did he feel it too?

He must have because his smile widened.

“Hey, I...Hey. I’m Luke.”

He held out his hand to you and, without a second thought, you took it in yours.

“I know.”

“Hah, y-yeah, I guess you do.”

Leia stood between you, glancing at Luke then you, and back again.

She knew what was happening before either you or Luke did.

“Y/N can show you around while we get some work done. Right, Briggs? That engine isn’t going to fix itself before the charge, hmm?”

“No, ma’am,” the pilot replied.

Before Luke could tell him goodbye, Briggs was off; lest he face the wrath of Princess Organa.

“Now, run along. I have work to do,” Leia sauntered away, leaving you and Luke alone.

When you looked back at Luke, you saw that he was already staring at you; waiting for you.

Warmth flooded your face but you pushed past it.

“So, this is the hangar.”

You showed Luke the ins and outs of the Yavin VI base.

With every location or small detail you pointed out, you and Luke spent the next strides talking about yourselves.

“Tatoonine? That’s how you know Briggs?”

“Yeah. When we were younger we’d go to Tashi Station and play pilots. We were free to go anywhere and do anything.”

“Well, you’re not playing anymore, huh?”

“Yeah, I guess not.”

Luke scratched the back of his neck and you suddenly felt as if you had stepped over a line with your words.

“Are you alright?”

“I, uh,” Luke stopped in his tracks and shook his head. “You’re right. This isn’t a game anymore. Piloting it’s...it’s life and death.”

“It’s still free, you just have to fight for it.”

Luke lifted his head then, you meet your gaze.

There was a glint in his eyes that you would not soon forget.

A glint of hope, a new drive to live.

It made your heart swell.

Then the sirens went off and you shoulders dropped.

Luke’s eyes suddenly widened at that sounds, a mixture of fright and excitement in his features.

“Is that…”

“Yes,” you whispered, letting your gaze fall. “Are you flying in?”

“Y-Yeah,” in Luke’s reply you detected a nervousness.

When you looked up to meet his gaze, you see that you glint was gone, replaced by an expression you had seen so many pilots wear before.

Without thinking, you reached and grabbed Luke’s hand with yours.

“You’ll be okay. There’s great things in store for you here, Luke. Just fight.”

“Just fight,” he echoed.

You felt his hand tighten around yours before he ran off to the hangar again to ready his X-Wing.

And fight he did.

He fought, tooth and nail with the rest of the Rebels.

When they returned, you were amongst the first to greet them.

Your eyes scanned over the gathering crowd as techs and pilots alike rejoiced in this victory.

When you finally saw Luke clambering out of his X-Wing, a flood of relief washed over.

You had known he was alive as he was the one that delivered the fatal blow to the Empire’s Death Star but seeing him, in one piece, made your heart soar.

Somehow, moving through the masses of people, you made your way over to him.

A taller man, the one Luke had come to Yavin VI with, embraced him and was soon followed by Leia, who was smiling widely.

For a moment, it felt like you were intruding on the scene.

Like you were seeing something important, something grand, and did not want it to end.

Luke was beaming and you felt silly about how much his smile made your chest ache.

You had only just met him and yet it felt as if some force (or Force) was pulling you to him.

How silly, you thought; how could something do that?

But, just as you began turning away, you felt someone grab your hand.

“Hey! We fought!”

“And we won!”

Luke pulled you close and, for a split second, you thought he was going to kiss you.

But that was crazy! Too soon!

Though, you wouldn’t complain if it happened.

Instead, you were overwhelmed by the warmth of Luke’s arms around your waist, pulling you into a tight embrace.

From that moment on, you strove towards that warmth, towards the joy held in Luke’s arms.

Since that attack on that first Death Star, you and Luke grew closer.

When he returned from missions, you were the first person he sought out to see.

“Y/N!”

“You’re back!”

You would share an embrace that would garner the stares of passersby.

If Leia was around for one of these hugs, you would catch flack about it later.

“That quite the reunion.”

“We hadn’t seen each other in over a cycle it seems!”

“No need to get defensive,” Leia would say with a smile. “It’s just an observation.”

“I know that tone.”

“Then you know what I’m implying.”

Leia and Han bond over teasing your bond with Luke.

Wholesome all around.

About a month before the Rebel Alliance is forced to vacate Yavin VI, you meet Luke in the makeshift cantina on base.

He was just readying to leave for a recon mission to scope out planets for a new base

And despite the excitement of that, you cannot deny how tired he looks.

“Are you alright?”

Luke meets your gaze and there is an unfamiliar coldness in his eyes.

You reach across the table and grab his hand.

“You know you can tell me, right? You can tell me anything.”

There’s a flash of hesitance in his expression but it quickly melts away to reveal the Luke you know best.

“I know, Y/N, it’s just...I’ve been having dreams.”

Luke explains his dreams, his nightmares.

Some are about Ben Kenobi, a man you never met but Luke insists you would have loved as he had.

Others, Luke explains, are about that battle, that final shot into the Death Star.

“Some nights I miss and there’s a different explosion. One of war and pain and...I..”

“Hey,” you squeeze his hand, bringing Luke’s attention back to you. “You didn’t miss. You and those squadrons saved countless lives.”

Luke nods but you can tell he is not easily convinced.

“I see faces in those dreams. People I’ve known and people I don’t. They’re all in pain. I see you, too, and you’re in pain. It’s...awful. I can’t take them anymore.”

“You don’t have to go through them alone.”

As you spoke, you grow courage and entangle your fingers with Luke’s.

At the touch, he breathing evens and you can see the fear flee from his eyes.

“Whenever you have a nightmare like that, you find me, okay? Those dreams are some darkness trying to twist you.”

You squeeze his hand again.

“I’m right here, still alive, and breathing like you.”

“Y/N, I’m in l-”

“Master Luke!”

Before Luke could finish what he was about to say, a familiar, golden protocol droid waddled up to where you were sitting.

“Master Luke! Princess Organa has sent me looking after you all around the base!”

“What does she need, Threepio?”

Even with his slightly annoyed tone, Luke was still holding your hand.

“You were supposed to leave Yavin VI twelve minutes ago!”

Luke’s eyes went wide and you felt his hand tighten around yours.

“She told you, several hours ago, regarding your take off time, that you-”

“I know, I know,” Luke said, shaking his head.

You gave him a fond smile, sympathizing with his flustered expression.

But when he met your gaze, you saw there was something else there, deep in his eyes.

“I thought I had more time.”

“You must leave immediately, Master Luke, to meet at the marker with Fulcrum.”

Luke’s face fell and you squeezed his hand.

“We can talk later. It can wait until you get back.”

“Y/N, I don’t know when I’ll-”

“When you get back.”

You saw a flash of desperation in his eyes and you felt the same in your heart.

The idea of him leaving so quickly, so suddenly, pained you.

But you knew you would see him again; Luke always came back.

He always came back to you.

“I’ll see you then, yeah?”

“Alright.”

Luke moved to slide out of his seat, his hand slipping out of yours in the process.

“Stay safe,” you murmur, as Luke walks past you.

You saw his lips move, utter some tender reply that you could not quite make out as he strode off.

All at once, you were alone, horribly alone.

You glanced down into your empty glass sighed.

At least there were free refills.

As you moved to head towards the bar, you felt someone grab your wrist.

When you looked up, you were met with Luke’s blue eyes watching you, reading you like a data pad.

“I didn’t want to wait for this.”

Before you could ask what he meant, Luke’s hand on your wrist tightened and pull you up, closer to him.

Warmth floods your system and then, it almost becomes a dream.

Luke presses his lips against yours and you feel like you’re floating.

It is all soft and needy and when he pulls away it feels too soon.

Half-lidded and wanting, you hold Luke’s gaze.

“Y/N, I-”

“Master Luke!”

“You gotta go,” you whisper.

Luke nods and turns away, but his hand still lingers on his wrist.

You’re mentally preparing to watch him leave again when he turns around and kisses you again, harder than the last time.

That was the last time you saw him before the Alliance moved to Hoth.

You spent months waiting for him to return.

Worried for cycles, wondering if Luke was really going to come back to you.

When he finally did, you rushed to the icy hangar hungry for the sight of him.

You’re nearly slipping down halls as you basically run to him.

Just as you round the last corner…

Smack!

“Y/N!? Are you alright?”

You don’t even respond.

You’re too caught up in the fact that he is there, at last, in arms reach.

Both of you are on the cold floor but that doesn’t matter.

You grab him by the flight suit (he didn’t even take the time to take it off, he was that eager to see you) and pull his lips to yours.

His hands find the sides of your face and kissed you like a man stranded in the vast empty of space who found a last breath of fresh air.

Neither of you care that you’re siting on the cold ground of the Hoth base

Or that those who pass by are staring, dumbfounded at the mess of a pilot and technician on the floor.

When you finally pull away, you and Luke are beaming at each other.

No words are said; nothing has to be said.

You’re happy enough to be together, at last.

That is perhaps the greatest thing about loving Luke.

Happiness with him comes easy.

Waking after long nights, by his side.

You often wake before him and savor the quiet moment before he stirs.

He looks so peaceful in his sleep; like the weight of the galaxy didn’t rest on his shoulders.

Like he did not wear the moniker of ‘the last jedi’.

Then, silently, Luke will wake and, with eyes still closed, he will pull you to him.

“I can feel when you stare.”

“Is that a Force thing?”

“No, it’s a you thing.”

On mornings like those, it’s hard to get up and moving.

The two of you just lie together you either get hungry or C3P0 comes rushing in to tell Luke that he’s needed somewhere on base.

That is perhaps the ‘worst’ thing about loving Luke.

Everyone else loves him too.

Everyone else needs him too.

So you have to hang on to the moments you get with him.

Those lazy mornings and those dark nights.

There are times when you and Luke feel like a Sun and Moon; always passing each other, busy with your tasks.

But you always find eachother in the end, those stolen moments when you both share the same sky, the same task, the same room.

Those moments are filled with needy kisses and the swapping of stories.

You both make a deal to go to the base’s cantina once a week for a sort of ‘date night’.

Those ‘date nights’ end one of two ways:

One: Someone, whether a droid or ranking officer, interrupts your evening.

Second: you and Luke leave after a few minutes, fearing someone, droid or officer, will interrupt your evening.

If you leave early, you just stay within one of your respective chambers.

To put it lightly, the two of you become, nearly, homebodies.

Life in the Rebellion is so wild and unpredictable that having an escape, the general reliability of your small room, is nice.

Better than nice, amazing.

You two are able to speak freely, deeply, and do other things not suited to the public.

“Do you think they’ll ever…?”

“Han and Leia?”

“No...well..maybe.”

When he gets lost in the snow storm that time, it takes all Leia has to keep you on base while Han searches for him.

“You’re no good to him if you get lost too!”

Tears streamed down your face at the idea of him alone out there, facing the Hoth cold and creatures by himself.

“I love him, Leia!”

“I know! I know,” she holds you close and tries to soothe you.

Yet, you’re only soothed when Han lugs Luke through the doors.

For the next few days, you’re sleeping in the medbay.

When you’re awake, you’re watching droids work on Luke, increasing his chances for survival.

You’re barely sleeping.

It’s impossible to rest with the steady beep of Luke’s heart monitor.

You are studying the bruises on his skin and cuts on his face.

You’re trying to remember what he looked like before: with soft features, eyes open and full of love.

Every so often, his eyelids twitch and your heart leaps with momentary joy.

When the steady beep continues on, you fall back against your chair.

You glance at his lips and wonder if you’ll ever kiss them again.

You see the corner of his lips twitch, but you know better than to get your hopes up.

Then, the corner of his lips lifts entirely into a small, tired half smile.

“It’s a you thing.”

“Luke!”

You’re over at his side immediately, clutching his hand and pressing your lips to his cheek.

“I’m so sorry, Y/N, I’m so-”

“Shh, no. I let you go out alone this was…”

“Don’t,” Luke warns.

His hand grabs yours and squeezes weakly.

“I’m right here, still alive, and breathing like you.”

You can’t help but laugh lightly at his words, an echo of yours from many months before.

“Barely,” you reply, before leaning down to kiss him like the first time.

You spend time with him, getting Luke back on his feet.

He tells you about how he heard Ben’s voice, how he needs to leave.

“I feel like I just got you back.”

“I know, but I….”

“You need to do this,” you say softly.

“Yeah, I do. I don’t know how long it will take but I love you, I’ll be back.”

You smile when Luke’s eyes widen.

“I-I….”

“You love me?”

“Yes, I...I love you, Y/N.”

“I love you too.”

You spend as much time with him as you can before he leaves.

“Be safe out there.”

“Always. I have to come back to you, don’t I?”

“Have to?”

“Want to. Need to.”

Even though he is many hyper jumps away, you can feel that he is alive.

You almost think it’s the Force before you know that this feeling is deeper.

It is real love.

It is something even stronger than the Force.

Something stronger than you or Luke by yourselves.

You’re strongest when you’re together and, when you are together, it feels that everything is in balance.

So you stay together through it all.

The Empire’s fall, the New Republic.

You hold his hand and he holds yours, for as long as you both can.

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