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The Quietest Goodbye {LH43}

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Synopsis: After months of loving Luke Hughes in silence, she finally walks away—unseen, unheard, and completely emptied by his absence. It’s only when he finds the letter she wrote in the beginning—full of hope and love he never returned—that he realizes he was everything to someone he treated like nothing.

Warnings: Emotional Neglect in a Relationship, Breakup / Heartache, Unresolved Emotional Conflict, Loneliness / Isolation, Regret & Abandonment.

Themes: Unreciprocated Love, Emotional Distance vs. Physical Presence, Regret & Realization After Loss , Memory & Nostalgia , Silence as a Form of Heartbreak, & Identity in a Relationship.

WC: 1.8k

A/N: Here's some angsty Luke.

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Playlist Greatest - Billie Eilish Two Ghosts - Harry Styles I Fall Apart - Post Malone

She used to mark the dates of his games on her calendar, circling them in red like holidays. It didn’t matter if the arena was in New Jersey, or halfway across the country. If she could find a way to be there, she would. Red-eye flights, long drives through snowstorms, airport terminals where her name was barely whispered by the intercom—she never missed a chance to see him.

Luke never asked her to come. But he never told her not to, either.

In those early months, that silence felt like a kind of permission. Maybe even affection. She’d show up with a cup of his favorite coffee and a soft smile, and he’d greet her with a tired kiss and say, “You didn’t have to do all that.”

“I know,” she’d always reply. “But I wanted to.”

That used to be enough for her—wanting him. Wanting to give.

But over time, something shifted. Not all at once, like a thunderstorm crashing through a clear sky. It was subtler than that. Like a slow leak under the floorboards, something rotting quietly, just out of view.

At first, it was the little things. Missed calls that used to come with an apology and now came with silence. Texts read but not answered. Excuses that felt thinner every time he gave them.

“I’ve just been swamped,” he’d say. “Back-to-back games. My head’s not right.”

She tried to believe him. She really did.

“You don’t talk to me anymore, Luke,” she finally said one night. Her voice was quiet, but steady. “I feel like I’m dating a ghost.”

He rubbed his eyes and let out a tired breath. “You’re making this into a thing.”

“It is a thing.”

He didn’t argue. Just stood up and left the room, like the weight of her words wasn’t worth carrying.

That was the moment she realized something cruel: you can’t beg someone to care. You can’t pour yourself into a person and expect them to hold you gently.

She waited for him to come back. Not just into the room, but into the relationship. Into them. But he stayed gone in all the ways that counted.

And she stayed, too—for longer than she should’ve. She stayed because she remembered the boy who kissed her forehead when she fell asleep during his post-game interviews. The one who whispered, “I love you,” like it meant something he couldn’t put into words.

But that boy had vanished somewhere beneath the weight of travel, fame, and distraction. What was left was someone she didn’t recognize. Someone who couldn’t—or wouldn’t—see the slow unraveling between them.

One night, after another game she watched from her apartment instead of the stands, she sat on the edge of their shared bed and stared at her packed bag.

He walked in after midnight. She could smell the rink on his skin—sweat, ice, cold plastic. He dropped his gear by the door with a sigh.

“You’re not asleep?” he asked, voice low.

“No,” she said, not looking at him.

He nodded, started toward the shower. She almost let him go.

But then—

“I’m leaving, Luke.”

He stopped, hand still on the doorframe. “What do you mean?”

“I mean I can’t do this anymore.” Her voice trembled, but she didn’t back down. “I’ve been showing up for someone who doesn’t even notice I’m here.”

He turned to face her. The expression on his face wasn’t shock. It wasn’t anger. It was… confusion. As if he truly didn’t understand why she was breaking.

“You know I care about you,” he said.

“But you don’t show it,” she whispered. “You haven’t in months.”

He ran a hand through his hair. “I’ve been under pressure. I can’t be everything all the time.”

“I never asked you to be everything,” she said. “I just asked you to be present.”

The silence that followed was deafening. No more excuses. No more last-minute promises. Just the quiet acceptance of something already too far gone.

She picked up her bag and walked past him. He didn’t stop her. Maybe he didn’t know how. Or maybe he didn’t want to.

And that, she realized, hurt more than anything.

Luke didn’t think much about the bag when he first saw it missing from the closet. She had packed light before, for weekend trips to visit her sister or those last-minute flights she took for work. Maybe she’d just gone out of town.

That’s what he told himself.

But the next day, her coffee mug was gone too. The one with the cracked handle she always refused to throw out. And the framed photo of the two of them on the bookshelf—faded from sun and time—had vanished like it had never been there at all.

That’s when the noise in his head finally stopped long enough for him to hear what he’d ignored.

She was gone.

Not temporarily. Not for space. Gone, like she meant it.

He sat on the edge of their—his—bed, looking at the empty space where her phone charger used to be. The charger. It shouldn’t have gutted him. But it did. Because it meant she took her time. Thought it through. Didn’t just walk out on impulse.

He could still remember her last words, though at the time, they barely registered.

“I can’t do this anymore.”“You don’t even notice I’m here.”

Back then, he had nodded like she was being dramatic. Like she didn’t understand how exhausting the schedule was, how hard it was to balance the season, the press, the pressure.

But now… Now he realized she wasn’t asking for his time. She was asking for presence.

And he hadn’t given her that. Not for a long time.

ﾟ･:.｡:ﾟ･♡⋆·˚ ༘ * 🔭ﾟ･:.｡:ﾟ･♡⋆·˚ ༘ * 🔭

The season rolled on.

Post-game interviews, team meetings, long bus rides with earbuds in and a seat to himself. He used to text her from the road. She used to send him voice memos that made him laugh under his breath in the middle of practice.

Now his phone was quieter than it had ever been.

The guys didn’t ask where she went. A few of them noticed, sure, but no one brought it up. No one wanted to poke the bruise.

Except Dawson Mercer.

One night, after a brutal loss and a longer-than-usual silence in the locker room, Dawson tossed a towel over his shoulder and leaned against the bench next to him.

“You good?” he asked.

Luke nodded instinctively. “Yeah. Just tired.”

“You haven’t been right,” Dawson said. “Not for a while.”

Luke didn’t answer.

“She meant a lot to you, didn’t she?”

He swallowed hard. “Yeah. I think I just… didn’t realize how much.”

Dawson clapped a hand on his shoulder. “Most guys don’t. Not until it’s too late.”

ﾟ･:.｡:ﾟ･♡⋆·˚ ༘ * 🔭ﾟ･:.｡:ﾟ･♡⋆·˚ ༘ * 🔭

Late one night, after a road win in Pittsburgh, Luke sat in his hotel room with the curtains drawn and the lights dimmed. He opened his Notes app and started typing something—anything. A message to her he’d never send.

I thought you'd always be there. I thought I had more time to figure it out. You were never asking for the world. Just for me. I’m sorry I didn’t show up.

He stared at the screen for a long time, then closed it without saving.

Some things weren’t meant to be fixed with words.

She had given him everything. And all he gave back was absence wrapped in routine.

Now, all he had left was empty space, a pair of laces untied by the door, and a silence that felt heavier than any crowd he’d ever played in front of.

ﾟ･:.｡:ﾟ･♡⋆·˚ ༘ * 🔭ﾟ･:.｡:ﾟ･♡⋆·˚ ༘ * 🔭

He wasn’t looking for anything.

It had been raining all afternoon, that cold kind of spring rain that made everything feel heavier, and he found himself pacing his apartment—their apartment—like a stranger in someone else’s life. Drawers he hadn’t touched in months, closets that still smelled faintly like her shampoo, the back of the bookshelf where her things used to be.

It was a drawer in the nightstand she always used. The bottom one. The one that used to stick a little when you pulled it too fast. He opened it without thinking, without really expecting anything except maybe an old hair tie or a receipt she forgot to toss.

But there it was.

A letter. Folded in half, edges soft and a little curled, like it had been handled more than once. His name was written on the front in her handwriting — loopy, careful, and familiar in a way that made his chest tighten instantly.

He stared at it for a long moment. His thumb brushed over the ink.

He thought about not opening it. Letting it sit in that drawer forever. But curiosity is a cruel thing when mixed with grief.

He sat on the bed and unfolded it.

ﾟ･:.｡:ﾟ･♡⋆·˚ ༘ * 🔭ﾟ･:.｡:ﾟ･♡⋆·˚ ༘ * 🔭

Luke, (written in the soft blue ink she always used)

I know it’s kind of cheesy to write something like this, but I guess I just wanted you to know what you mean to me — in case I don’t say it enough.

I didn’t expect to fall for someone like you. I didn’t expect to feel so safe with a person whose life is always on the move. But when I’m with you, everything feels still. Even if it’s just a few hours before your next flight, or a quick dinner between practices — I’d take that over anything else.

You have this way of making everything feel easy. Even the chaos. Even the distance.

I don’t need flowers or grand gestures. Just you. Just your voice on a bad day. Your hand reaching for mine in a crowded room. Your laugh when I make a joke that’s only half-funny.

I don’t want to be just another girl in the stands, or another message on your phone you forget to answer. I want to be your person. The one you come home to, even if your home is always changing.

And if we ever get lost in all the noise… I hope we find our way back.

I love you. I really, really do.

— me <3

ﾟ･:.｡:ﾟ･♡⋆·˚ ༘ * 🔭ﾟ･:.｡:ﾟ･♡⋆·˚ ༘ * 🔭

Luke sat still for what felt like an hour. Maybe more.

The words blurred at the edges from where his fingers pressed too tightly to the paper. He didn’t cry — not really. It was something else, something heavier. That kind of grief you feel when you realize someone once believed in you so purely, so completely, and you let them down anyway.

She had written it during the best part. When she was still waiting in airports and braving snowstorms just to watch him skate. When she still thought love would be enough to hold them together.

He folded the letter back up slowly, like it might shatter if he moved too fast.

Set it on the nightstand.

Sat there in the dim light with nothing but the hum of rain against the windows, and the echo of her words.

“I hope we find our way back.”

The cruelest part?

He wasn’t sure there was a way anymore.

And if there was… he didn’t know if he deserved it.

LH43 Taglist: -

NHL Taglist: @ashloveshockey

[probablyintensemuses]

A-Z NSFW Alphabet

Armando Aretas

🎧- Girls Need Love: Summer Walker

summary: head cannon on what sex—a-z—is like with Armando

A: After care (what they’re like after sex)

I’m fully convinced that after you have sex, Armando cleans you off while telling you how well you took him. Then he sets a bath or shower, your preference, for you both. He likes to clean you off and sing you some more praises before you ultimately fall asleep in each others arms.

B: Body part (what’s their favorite body part)

I see Armando as an ass and back guy. There’s no doubt he’s in killer shape, so I think seeing a toned back and a fat, perky ass bouncing while he drills into you from behind, would definitely turn him on, only fueling the way he destroys your cunt.

C: Cum (where do they like to cum)

Armando cums literally anywhere you let him. On your face, in your pussy, on your back, on your stomach. Anywhere you tell him, he will

D: Dirty (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Armando once caught you using a vibrator and never told you. It was just something about the way you moaned and squirmed, touching yourself while you called out his name, that fueled his ego and lust for you.

E : Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Armando’s a drug dealer, there are desperate girls lying up just waiting for the chance at a good fuck with him. I think it goes without saying that he’s pretty experienced and has methods on making you cum each and every-time you fuck.

F: Favorite position (this goes without saying)

I think Armando likes some good ole’ missionary, except he likes to fold you like a pretzel, test the bounds of your flexibility, as he pounds and drills deep into you. He loves to not only hear your cries and moans but see them too, and in missionary, he really gets the best of both worlds.

G: Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

To Armando, there is nothing funny about getting the chance to fuck you and see you wither from his touch. I doubt he laughs in general, so sex would definitely be a no laughing matter.

H: Hair (how well groomed are they)

For the most part I think Armando is clean shaven. I didn’t see a spec of hair on his chest in the prison scene so I think when you pull down his pants, it’ll either be clean shaven or a slight buzz down there.

I: Intimacy (how intimate are they)

It depends, are you the love of his life, or a quick fuck? Love of his life? He’ll go above and beyond for you. A quick fuck? The most you’ll get out of his is an orgasm and one night in a five star hotel.

J : Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Armando has a high sex drive—I mean look at his father—so he’s definitely going to jack off, especially with the time he spends alone and in prison. He’d jerk off thinking of you, squeezing snd pumping his swollen cock in his fist until he cums.

K: Kink (what are their kinks)

Now as violent as Armando can get, I don’t think his kink would be anything that can hurt you. I think if anything, the lack of a stable family and community around him would make him desperate for a family of his own with the right woman. I think he’d have a breeding kink, always moaning and babbling about how he wants to cum deep inside of you, impregnating you to start a family. His favorite phrase to moan near his orgasm: “Hazme papá, mi amor.”

L: location (where do they like to fuck)

Armando will fuck you anywhere his cock starts to ache, needing to be inside you. It doesn’t matter where you too are, if he wants you, he’ll have you.

M : Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Armando has expensive taste. So he gets the most turned on when you’re sensually dressed in the lingerie he bought you, all dolled up for him. I think seeing you like that, doing mundane things like cooking and cleaning, will have him ready to explode.

No: No (what are some things they’re not doing to you)

I don’t think Armando’s doing anything that can hurt you. He doesn’t want you to fear him if he goes to far, then he’ll loose you and he can’t risk that.

O: Oral (do they give and receive oral)

Armando loves the taste or your pussy, and he loves how he can make you cum just by eating you out, he loves the power of gives him. He doesn’t always ask for it, but he loves when you go down on him and suck his cock with such ease. It’s glorious watching you choke and slob on his large member.

P: Pace (how fast or slow is sex)

This depends on Armando’s mood. If you’re fucking or having a quickie, he’s all about fast and tough, making you cum as quick and hard as he can. But if you’re making love, he will give you slow, powerful, and calculate strokes, making sure to hit your sweet spot every-time time he pushes into you while singing you praises and telling you your worth.

Q : Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Armando is always game for a quickie, but I don’t think he has them often. If he’s going to fuck you, he’s going to fuck you passion and purpose and quickie doesn’t give him the time to do what he truly wants to do to you.

R: Risk (how risky are they)

Armando’s a drug-dealing assassin, risk might as well be his middle name. He’s fucking you in the office, in the van, in the compound, outside in the woods, in an airplane bathroom, upstairs at a friends place. He’s an adrenaline junkie and some part of him gets off on the fact that you like the risk too.

S: Stamina (how long do they last)

Do you see his body? That man can last for hours if he has too. Round after round he won’t tap out until you do, and if that means being balls deep for hours, he’ll do that.

T: Toys (do they like toys? Do they use them?)

Armando won’t use toys on himself. And he doesn’t really like them, he’d rather his partner cum because of him and what can do. He’ll study every part of you and listen to your sexual language so that he can perform just what you need to make you cum harder than any toy could make you.

U: Unfair (how unfair are they when you fuck)

Armando loves to tease you, edging you and seeing how far he can push you for your release. He loves to stop fucking you just when you’re at the edge so that you’re begging for him just to stick the head of his cock back in and finish his job. Hell do this a few times because some insecure part of himself needs to know just how badly you need him.

V: Volume (how loud they are during sex)

Armando is definitely vocal. He grunts and moans as he takes your pussy with his cock. He praises you in Spanish and English for how well you take his cock. He wants to be heard by you and others, claiming you as his with his sounds.

W: Wild card ( a random head canon)

As dominant as he can be, I really do think he’s a munch. I think he could sit for hours just eating your pussy or doing as you ask him and following your orders. Whatever you tell him to do in the bedroom, that won’t hurt you, of course, he does it. And he does it with fucking pride. He’s your best eater and there’s no doubt about it.

X: X-ray (what’s going down underneath)

Marcus said it: “those Lowery genes are a bitch.” I’m thinking Armando is strapped. He’s about 7 1/2 inches and thick, a perfect size to stretch you out and give you a good, full fucking that’ll have you craving for more.

Y: Yearing (how high is their sex drive)

High. That’s all I’m going to say. High.

Z: Zzz (how fast to the fall asleep after sex)

I don’t think he sleeps right after. Armando definitely pulls you into his arms and watches you sleep against his chest. And once you’re sleep for a while with no waking, I think that’s when he’ll slowly start to doze off himself.

[allkordelia]

Keep Me Near Your Heart XXI

"This all such a mess...a big mess...Why...What were you hoping to accomplish when you brought that woman here, Alicent?"

Alicent stare ahead at the flames in the fireplace despair and bitter, ignoring the woman she considered to be her second mother, she and the rest of the family were in the great chambers, Jaenara and Aemond have been gone for five days and the due date was coming up close. And no one know where they are. Their dragon are gone, of course, and nobody from Mageonste or Dragonstone seen them. It's as if they disappeared off the face of the earth, and it's all her fault.

"I can tell you that, mother. She was trying to get rid of Jaenara, so the bastard can give her a real grandchild." Aeron accused glaring at his half-sister as she sat sulking in the armchair close to the fireplace.

"You don't know if thats true, Aeron." Valaena spoke up quickly to defend her sister, she walks up  behind her husband to stand next to him.

"No, it's true." Aegon announce, getting everyone attention expect for his mother as he tilt his goblet back, "What? We all know it is." He says when he notice everyone looking at him.

Rhaelle looks away from her cousin with distress look, she was so worried about Jaenara and the babe, when she went to her chambers that night in hopes to comfort her. The young girl and her prince were no where to be find, at first Rhaelle didn't think much about it, she knew how the young girl felt and she understood that she needed time away. But, that's didn't mean she had to like the fact that her neice was in the wind. 

"I still do not see why we can't go looking from them." Alys says looking over at her mother with her arms cross.

"They need to come home on their own, we can not just drag them back if they are not ready to come home and...and for all we know, maybe they don't even want to come back."

Alys frowns at her mother, before she look over at Alyssa to see her with a small frown too.

It was true. Everyone knew it. What happened at the dinner was despicable and cruel, it was obvious that Alicent wanted to get under Jaenara's skin. And they all knew why, after the private dinner that caused tension between not only Rhaenyra and her father but the king and his queen.

"Maybe, that's a good thing." Rhaenyra said.

Multiple pair of eyes glare over at her as she sat on the couch between her older and younger son, Luke look over at his mother with a deep frown.

"In why in the fuck would that be a 'good thing'" Alys hiss, rhaenyra looks over at her cousin with a placid look.

"I'm just saying, if she doesn't want to come back maybe there's more than one reason than what happened at dinner."

"Yeah, and we're looking at her right now." Baelon snips.

Rhaenyra ignore her cousin before looking at her lady wife and lord husband as daemon just walked in putting his hand on his wife back.

"You know I'm right." Rhaenyra says.

Rhaelle frown at her princess-wife before turning her attention to the queen, Jaenara didn't really talk much about the first couple of months of her marriage to Aemond. All she told us was she miscarried before this one and that's it, we probably wouldn't have known about the miscarriage if it wasn't for Alicent bringing it to light one night at dinner.

"Hard for me to say, but maybe she's right."

Rhaelle along with her kin look at Maekar with a mixture of expressions.

"Are you serious?" Baelon says in dismay, not believing what he was hearing, Maekar gives his mother a look.

"Sadly." Rhaenyra roll her eyes looking away, "But, I wouldn't put it pass Aemond to punish Jaenara for her brother's actions." Maekar looks over at Lucerys, who frown at his cousin making Jacerys glare at Maekar.

"This isn't Luke's fault."

"I didn't say it was, did i?" Maekar snip.

"Then, what are you trying to say, because last time I check. Aemond ran off with Jaenara and they seem to be  happy with one another."

"Well, if your self-righteousness wasn't blinding you, you would have notice how much your sister has change. How she doesn't smile as much as she use to or how she rather spend most of her time outside in the garden than inside the castle--" Romarn chuckles making Maekar stop to look at him.

"It sounds like you fancy her, cousin."

Maekar roll his eyes at Romarn.

"No, unlike you have a very keen sense of detail that helps me understand what's going on around me." Maekar snide, making Ronas snort.

"Sure you do, did your 'keen sense of detail' tell you anything when you were watching her and aemond cooing another that night." Ronas smirk.

Maekar swallow as he stare at his cousin, the look he was giving them was emotionless and some of the others in the room stood awkwardly silent at the tension that appear in the room.

"No." He finally answered, making Ronas raise a brow while his brother grin, "But, if you have any keen sense of a brain, I advise you to keep your asinine, which means foolish by the way, remarks to yourself unless you want to swallow all of your teeth." He threatened.

Ronas roll his eyes with a peeve look, unlike his younger brother, Romarn sneer at the older boy.

"No need to be so testy, Mae." Romarn ribbed, making Maekar flick his eyes to him,"You should learn how to take a jest, maybe then jaenara would find your company a little less intimidating." He chuckle.

Maekar narrow his eyes at his young cousin before he close his eyes and took in a deep breathe before reopening his eyes as he exhale, the rest of the clan watch holding their breath as Maekar turn his attention back to Romarn.

"Yes...Maybe your right, cousin." Romarn smirk as he raise his brow with a look, "Maybe that's why it was easy for you to get Alyaena into bed--"

"Maekar! You bastard." Alyaena cries out with a look of horror and embarrassment.

"I guess humor can be consider an aphrodisiac." He shrugs nonchalant before looking away from Romarn's shock expression, while Alyaena glare at her brother.

"Fucking pig." She mumbled making her brother look at her.

"Stop fussing. If you want to blame someone blame that idiot you let dump his seed into you--"

Alyaena growled balling her fists, she turns to Romarn who looks back at her with a fear in his eyes.

"I'm going to kill you--"

"No." Daemon was quick to around his wife and grab Alyeana's elbow before she could charge at her moronic cousin, her father pulled her back to stand between him and his wife.

"It slipped out." He said low with a sheepish look.

Alyaena roll her eyes angrily looking away from him and crossing her arms, Daemon kept a close eye on his daughter as another argument ensures. 

"Slip out? More like he projectile vomited it out, he wouldn't stop talking until he finally passed out." Aegon chortles from his seat besides Adrielle and Helaena, romarn glared at aegon.

"Shut up." He snapped, "Atleast I wasn't making a fool of myself. Oh where's my belove? Where Adrielle? Where is my beautiful wife, Adrielle? Adrielle, Adrielle, Adrielle." Romarn mocks with a annoyed look, aegon scowled him before he could say anything Adrielle spoke up.

"Don't even justify that with an response, Aegon." Adrielle said leaning against Aegon, "He is just mad that he doesn't have the type of relationship you and I have." Adrielle looks at her lover who gaze at her with a lovesick smile, Aegor stood behind his adopted sister with a shake of a head.

"A relationship build on empty promises and lies, why would anyone want such a union."

Adrielle snap her head around to glare at Aegor, he looks back at her with a raise brow with a look that made her look away with a bitter mood.

"Well, not all of us are bless to be born a boy, little brother. Not all of us have a say in what we can do in our life--"

"Stop it." Aeron interrupted.

"Don't you dare blame my gender for your shortcomings, big sister." He sneer, "It is not my fault that you can't learn to keep your legs close, or mouth for that matter."

"Aegor, that's enough! Apologize to your sister." Valaena chided with a displease look, Aegor look over at his mother before looking back at his sister.

He look at her for a minute, she had a brow raise high with a smug look, she mouth taunts at him as aegon looks at him with a sneer.

"I'll apologize when she pray to the gods for forgiveness."

"For what?" Adrielle gives him a offended look, Aegor tilt his head to the side.

"For killing your baby."

Adrielle's face drop along with Aegon, the room went quiet, so quiet that rhaelle could hear the rats in the walls.

"What is he talking about, Adrielle." The young princess drop her gaze to the floor, "...Aegor." Aeron turn his accusing eyes to his eldest son, who averted his own to anywhere that wasn't his family.

"Maybe, this should be discuss in a more private setting–" Rhaelle started.

"No! There's no need for that...I already got my answer."

Aegor and Adrielle look towards each other before looking at their father, Aeron stare at them with a coldness that they never been on the receiving end of before.

"Papa--" Adrielle start with tears in her eyes but Aeron raise up a hand stopping her.

"Don't." He drop his hand with an exhale, "I have allow you to do..whatever you want for the pass seventeen years, mainly because of your mother, but now I see I should have done more." He nodded to himself before he looks up at his daughter, he glance at aegon before looking at adrielle, "This decision hurts me more than you can ever imagine." Adrielle frown at her father's words before staring in confound as he turn on his heels walking away.

"What does that mean?" She asked once he left out the door, Adrielle look at her mother and grandmother, "M-Mama, what does father speak of?" She asked desperately, Valaena snap out of her thoughts before she looks at her daughter.

Valaena didn't say a word as she turns making Adrielle stand up from the couch, she called for her mother again only for it to fall on deaf ears as Valaena left quickly. Adrielle stood in the middle of the room feeling as if her world just came crumbling around her, Aegon glance at Helaena who stare at Adrielle with worry.

Alyssa was the first to move as she stood and walk over to her cousin, she touch Adrielle's shoulder gently as the other girl stare blankly at the door.

"Adrielle...Are you alright?" Alyssa whispered moving to stand beside her.

Adrielle didn't respond instead she starts crying, she covered her mouth before she stumble forward towards the door.

"Adrielle!" Aegon called after concerned before getting off the couch with Helaena in toe.

They left the great chambers to follow after Adrielle, the rest of the family stood still watching in utter shock. Again, Alyssa was the first to move and she turn to Aegor with a look, making the other boy sense his belove heated gaze.

"Don't look at me like that, she started--"

"Your an ass, Aegor." Alyssa snapped making Aegor roll his eyes.

"Spare me, please." He started, "She did it to herself, if she stop pushing me--"

"You could have walked away." Baelon said, Aegor look at him.

"Would you and Alys."

Baelon glance at Alys before shrugging his shoulders.

"Fair point."

Alyssa rolled her eyes at him putting her attention back on her nephew.

"You had no right--" She pointed at him.

"Gods! Why is it every time something happens between me and adrielle, im the one at fault and not her."

"That's not true, darling." Rhaelle said.

"But, it is, my mother has always taken adrielle's side and father only does what mother tells him to do." He says, "It's not fair she never gets in trouble...never." he looks at Alyssa before shaking his head and stalk towards the door.

Rhaelle touch his arm but he only kept walking, Alyssa goes after him not before giving her mother a look that she take care of him before leaving out the door.

"Can this day get any worse." Alyaena utter under her breathe before flopping down on the couch that was inhabited by Adrielle, Aegon, and Helaena.

Just as she said that Alicent gets up from her chair catching everybody's else attention, the queen turns slowly looking over towards rhaelle with red eyes and dried tears covered her flush cheeks.

"Do you really wish to know why I brought Alys River here?" Alicent said in a low and empty voice, rhaelle swallow eyeing Alicent, "I brought her here because I knew if jaenara saw her...she fall back into desolation, she would have shut herself out, stop eating, and slowly fade away in her room like before. She would have loss the baby but...atleast Aemond would have had Rivers and their child in the end." Alicent finish, she glance around the room fo Daemon along with his children glare at her with hate, while Rhaenyra and her son were unbothered by her words.

Alicent snap her eyes to rhaelle when the old queen took a step forward before walking up to her, Alicent straighten her back and she close her eyes, hoping the slap would be painful. She waited for a moment, but nothing came, she opened her eyes and she felt her heart crack in her ribcage as she stare back at the disappointed and unforgiving eyes of her step-mother.

Rhaelle gaze over Alicent's features trying to figure out what she did to make Alicent like this, all she ever done was be a good mother to her and love her like she birth her. But, love from rhaelle wasn't enough for the queen, or maybe there wasn't love in her at all, maybe Otto made sure of that.

Alicent held her breathe when rhaelle opened her mouth, but rhaelle stop herself and purse her mouth shut. She looks at Alicent with a tired a look before she turn away from her, Alicent watch with furrow brows as the rest of the family follow after the former queen.

Rhaenyra was the last to leave, she held onto the handle of the door before looking at Alicent. The queen stood there hollow as tears gathered in her eyes again, Alicent look at Rhaenyra finally, they stare at each other for a moment before Alicent was the first to look away and turn back to the fure. Rhaenyra watch as she sat back down again and went back to staring emotionless like statue at the fireplace, the older princess slowly closing the door behind her as a feeling she never thought she feel for Alicent again appeared.

[talkswithdesi]

Where the Zilla Fatu and Jacob Fatu fan fics at?! If those two aren’t fine as fuckkkkkk whewww!!

[bunnisplayground]

Social/Texting treats

This shit is difficult to work... These take place the week she meets his parents and sister.

Taglist: @yeea-nah @princessminjikwon

[sloanfigueiredo]

''And then, they fell in love...'' Jamal is @/yukitossun's oc (on bluesky) x Andromeda (my oc)

[deexchanel]

Golden.

Word Count: 2,650

Pairing: Geralt of Rivera x BlackFem!OC

Warning: Swearing, Fluff, Angst, Fighting, Arguing

Summary: Geralt is known to everyone that he is not the relationship type. After having an recurring dream, one woman is stuck on his mind and he can’t let this one get away.

A/N: Another Geralt oneshot uh ohhh. I know that this timeline is in 1210 but I'm not going to try hard to have it that way, meaning it will be some modern things in here. It is not edited, but since I'm on break, it won't take me long to do. Aside from that, Thank you for reading!

The fire brew nicely keeping both him and her very warm for the night. Geralt laid next to the girl that made him forget about everything else he dealt with. He felt content with having her close to him and nothing mattered at the moment.

He rolled over to smell her warm vanilla scent but there was no head. Geralt snatches the cover off in shock to see her body except with no arms or legs. He scoots back kicking the cover,”AH!”

A deep howl sounds off behind him and he quickly draws his sword, looking in every direction. His heart pounded in his chest as an animal come rushing towards him. Geralt stood up ready for battle and the Barghest jumped to him.

That’s when Geralt awoken from his slumber. He swung his feet to the side of the bed, rubbing his eyes. He then began grabbing nearby items to get dressed for leaving. When finished, he nudged Jaskier with his foot. “Jaskier, meet me at Kaer Morhen. I will be there but I have to go somewhere first.”

Jaskier, who was sleeping on the floor, heard him perfectly but still waved him off because it was still early in the morning. Geralt walked out the door, making way to his horse, Roach.

“Good Morning.” He spoke lowly while rubbing his favorite spot. Geralt climbed on, beginning his trip to Town of Odin. This dream occurred to him the previous night as well and he didn’t want it to be a third time.

——

“I need to make sure I grab some fresh bed linens while heading to work.” Nyla mumbled to herself as she folded her now clean clothes. After placing them on top of her vanity, she pulled apart a few of her curls to give her hair a fuller look.

Spending a couple of minutes in the mirror to make sure her face is clean and smooth. Nyla got up from the vanity making way to the bed where her outfit laid. It was a white dress with a green flower print all over, pairing that with some white sandals. Once smearing her melted cocoa butter against her lips, she made way to the kitchen.

Nyla picked up things around the house, wanting to organize her little home. It was a 1 bedroom, 1 bath cottage style home, it's perfect to her. The record player spun tunes that she loved which gave motivation to clean up her home. She is a single 23 year old with no intentions of having a man any time soon so the small size is great.

“Good Morning, Ms.June!” The chocolate woman waved over to her neighbor with pure happiness.

Ms.June waved back, “Morning Nyla! I made croissants, would you like some?”

She gave her a smile, “Yes ma’am, I would love one.” Nyla looked both ways before crossing over the rocky road. She would never turn down any baked goods from Ms. June. She was the only woman that made her feel welcomed in the group.

The Town of Odin was a big well known town, from the fabulous boutiques to the nice food places. The beautiful garden at the entrance of the town , ropes tourist in.

Nyla lived on out skirt of the town, living in the house her grandmother once lived in. Our beautiful Nyla is a people person but loves being alone when it comes to her living space.

Getting that trait from the fact that she grew up with two older brothers and older sister. When having siblings there is no definition of personal space. Her parents moved to New Asgard under rightful leadership of Queen Frigga. She visits quite often but this month she was going to miss their plans.

After eating the warm flaky croissant, she straightened her front patio from any fallen debris. She also had a huge flower garden that she tended too frequently.

Tending does have her outside all day which she then spends her evening going to Ms. June house. One person is writing while the other yells out fictional story ideas to write down. Tonight she did have a shift to pick up so she wouldn't be able to spend majority of time there like she always does.

Today shall give her peace.

Or so she hopes.

Eyes set upon Geralt as he stalked through the city of Odin. The city didn't have a hate relationship with Witcher's unlike surrounding places but his guard was still up. He held on his needed things and the leash that connected to his horse, Roach.

By time he arrived in the city, it was past night fall. Geralt was pretty tired but determined to save his love. He knew the path to Nyla’s house, so he kept his distance from everyone until...

"GET THE FUCK OUT MY PUB!" A feminine voice was heard in the streets from this pub that was on his left. That voice sounded very familiar. Too familiar.

He made his way over to the pub curious on what the chaos was about. Geralt stood tall at the door, scanning the crowd looking for a certain pair of brown eyes. A guy stood in front of him with his back facing the door, arguing with someone. That someone landed a clean punch across his face making him forcefully bumped into Geralt.

He pushed him back making the guy now face him. "The fuck is your problem!?"

Geralt expression harden," You bumped into me." his eyes shifted to the person behind him. It was Nyla. His Nyla. Their eyes made contact, setting off bombs of love within him.

It's like nothing else mattered but her.

Reality kicked in when the drunk guy continued his yelling, getting closer to Geralt. "You stood there fuck tard! This low down pub took my money."

Nyla crossed her arms, not even phased by the insults. She just wanted him out of her pub quickly. "Oh my gosh, you're complaining but still here! I been said get the fuck out."

"I can leave whenever I want bitch." The drunk guy spat into her face, sizing her up. This stupid act got his ass punched the first time. Nyla balled her hand into a fist, lifting her arm but Geralt instantly grabbed his shoulder forcing him to turn around.

He landed a smooth punch to the side of his face. The strength made the guy blacked out and Geralt dragged his limp body out the door, tossing him in the road.

Making it back in, his focus was 100% on Nyla. In that swiftness, she was back serving food and drinks to customers. He looked around the room then settled on the table in the corner.

His eyes instantly locked back onto Nyla, noticing every little detail. Seeing the gold jewelry she wore brought out her brown eye color. Nyla's dark brown curly hair bounced as she walked around. Her outfit didn't reveal much but a man has an great imagination. Noticing her smooth brown skin as it glisten in the light. Nyla's nice plumped lips had him wanting to kiss her every second if he could.

"You're staring." Nyla's firm voice broke him out of his trance. Gosh, she looks more amazing up close. Geralt gave her small smile, "I know."

"What do you want Witcher? I haven't seen or heard from you in years." She sat the piece of paper down, placing a hand on her curvy hip. Taking this time to notice some of his features, he definitely looked different then he did four years ago.

"I came to save you..." He couldn't even finish due to protest.

"Save me? I can take care of myself perfectly fine." She raised an eyebrow. Questioning herself, what does she need to be saved from? him obviously. He left the first time, that mean he's bound to do it again.

"I can see that very clearly but whatever's after you, I just can't let you be here alone. You need to come with me Nyla." Geralt points to her, his face held the determination. Letting her know that he is serious.

"So you only came because something is after me. I appreciate that you care but Geralt like I mentioned, I haven't seen you in years. I do not feel comfortable skipping town with you."

"Nyla listen!"

"I'm listening Geralt! You don't have anything else to say other than you came to save me. If it wasn't something after me, I would've never heard from you again. Am I lying?"

Geralt trailed off in silence knowing what she was saying is very true. After a couple of seconds he spoke." What you speak of is not true. I'm wanted by many, I didn't want to put you in harm's way."

"Geralt that is bullshit!" Nyla claim as shook her head in disbelief. Is she really hearing these words come out his mouth

"I'm sure you'd do a much better job of killing it then." He stood up from table, feeling regret and frustration. His tallness made Nyla melt but she had to keep her composure.

"You thought I was going to welcome you back with open arms? I'm angry with you Geralt! You're so self-absorbed. You only care about yourself!" Nyla voice started to raise not caring if it caught the crowd attention.

Geralt lets out angry groan. His icy white hair flowed as he walked pass her leaving. Nyla didn't want him to leave, honestly she was happy to see him but her anger got the best. She lets out an angry groan herself, " Fine!"

She balled up the paper that she used to take orders and tossed it to the back of his head. It hit his back, obviously not feeling it he continued walking out the door.

"Nyla can you refill-" Her manager starts as Nyla get closer to the bar. The manager doesn't likes her for whatever weird reason and uses every moment to patronize her.

"Shut the fuck up talking to me." Nyla cuts her eyes, grabbing the full beer glass so she can pass them out.

-----

It's hitting midnight which is what time the pub closes. As usual Nyla is the last to stay doing her normal. Consisting of wiping tables down, cleaning the windows and sweeping. When finished, she grabbed her things and locked the doors.

The night sky was clear as she saw the full moon above while walking out the town of Odin. Nyla loved the light from moon as it brighten the pathway home. Weirdly the town was quieter then usual, normally it would plenty townmens standing around the bonfire.

Maybe it was something in the air. It's only a ten minute walk from town and the surrounding forest area isn't too thick so Nyla isn't scared to walk by herself at time. It's just something about tonight that gave her this weird eerie feeling.

Hearing a dog whine astray her from being lost in thought. Nyla stopped so she could hear clearly, "Hello?"

The whining started again and she turned to her right, taking one foot off the path to get to the injured dog but the whine turn into a slow growl.

Nyla instantly stopped in her tracks beginning to speak out again, "Hel-"

She catch sight of a pair of orange eyes staring back, oh shit.

For a second out of fear, she stood there. A monstrous Barghest, orange eyes glowing with predatory intent, lunged. Its gnarled claws reached for her, the air crackling with its otherworldly power. She lets out a blood-curdling shriek beginning to run down the path.

Not to far from Nyla's home, stood Geralt as he was staking out behind her house. That scream grasps his attention, shaking him to the core. Without thought, he takes off towards the sound.

Nyla ran til she couldn't, as adrenaline rushes through her body. Nothing could make her look into the eyes of death. In the matter of what felt like hours, Geralt eyes of cat-like yellow, materialized from the shadows running towards. His silver sword gleamed in the moon light, he yelled for her "Nyla!"

That grabbed her attention, losing focusing on running, she tripped over a stone. Geralts leaps over her, sword drawn and at the ready.

"Your hunger ends here." Geralt growled, his voice a low rumble.

The Barghest roared, its attention diverted from Nyla. With a swift, graceful motion, Geralt sidestepped the beast's clawed attack, his sword dancing in a deadly ballet. Each strike was precise, each parry flawless.

Nyla, though terrified, found herself awed by the Witcher's skill. She'd heard tales of his prowess, but witnessing it firsthand was a different experience entirely. The battle raged, a symphony of steel on bone, of snarls and grunts. The forest echoed with the clash of the two adversaries, their every move a deadly dance.

--------

Nyla's small arm wrapped around Geralt's buff frame as she helped him into the house. Both covered in blood, she flung them to the couch. Tired is the understatement.

Whatever position they landed in, Gerald sat there with his eyes closed holding on to his bleeding torso. Nyla sat there as well til she relized that the couch was covered in blood. Oh well, she'll get him to throw it out in a hour or so, just not right now.

"Geralt."

"Hmm."

"We have to get you stitched up love."

"No it's fine, I'll heal."

"Geralt..."

"Nyla I'm fine, I promise." He opened his eyes, the yellow in his eyes didn't glow like when he's upset. Nyla expression softened as she grabbed his free hand. He squeezed her hand a little but, "Let's just get cleaned up."

Nyla doesn't respond but lets out a breathe she didn't know she held. She made way to the bathroom, prepping the hot bath water. Once finished, she got into the water then called for him. "The water is ready!" In two minutes, Geralt walks in the bathroom, getting in the tub. Nyla looks away in this moment, not it the mood for anything sexual.

Right now she just wants to cuddle this man. When he settled in the water she moved closer to him, placing a head on his shoulder. "I shouldn't have been so stubborn earlier. I'm sorry Geralt, thank you for saving me."

"No need to apologize Nyla." He wrapped his arm around her, placing a kiss on her forehead. "I will aways come to your rescue." In this moment, the world was silent and all that matter was the steaming water against their skin.

"And I will always appreciate you for that." She spoke gently, her hand rubbed against his scars, amazed at his healing ability. Nyla leaned up from his loving brace, facing him. " I've really missed you Geralt."

" I've missed you too Nyla."

His deep voice made her heart flutter and Nyla averted her gaze, nervously . The Geralt of Rivia claim that he misses her. He gently placed a finger under her chin to make Nyla look to him.

Her heart pounded as their eyes locked, his golden eyes burning into her soul. She felt breathless. Not wasting a second, Geralt placed his lips onto hers.

Their bodies pulsed with the raw energy of their passion, every touch, a testament to their love. Nyla places her hand against his face, deepening the kiss. Geralt pulled her closer wishing he could mold their skin together so they never parted. He wanted to devour her, kissing her ever so passionately, wanting her to feel his love.

She meant everything to him.

As their lips parted, their foreheads rested against each other, their eyes filled with unspoken promises.

They were bound by a love that transcended words, a love that consumed them entirely.

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

I know Geralt didn't have many lines, but remember he might not be the most expressive lover. It's his actions and unwavering dedication that speaks words.

Wow, I love the motivation I had for this cause it's crazy how I started on this in 2022 lol. I hope every one enjoy, I wish you the best holidays!

Stay slutty my friends!

[layla-lobelia]

Chapter 1 : The Sun

Word Count: Approximately 1,162 words. Summary: The story begins with a nine-year-old Clark Kent watching as new neighbors, the Johnson family, move into the farmhouse next door.

The Kansas sun hung high in the sky, casting long shadows across the golden fields surrounding the Kent farm. Nine-year-old Clark Kent sat on the porch steps, his legs swinging back and forth as he watched the dust trail behind the moving truck rolling down the narrow dirt road. The truck creaked to a stop beside the neighboring farmhouse, a place that had been empty for as long as Clark could remember.

Clark tugged at the edge of his flannel shirt, feeling a mixture of curiosity and nervousness. New neighbors weren’t exactly common in Smallville, and the idea of meeting someone new made his heart race a little. He glanced back at the screen door behind him, where his mom, Martha Kent—or Ma Kent as everyone in town called her—was finishing up in the kitchen.

“You ready to meet the new folks?” Ma asked as she stepped out, carrying a large apple pie wrapped in a checkered cloth. Her smile was bright, but she had a keen way of noticing when Clark was uneasy.

“Yeah, I guess,” Clark replied, his voice a little higher than usual. He wasn’t scared exactly, but he couldn’t help feeling a little jittery.

Ma laughed softly and set the pie down for a moment, kneeling beside him. “They’re just people, Clark. Probably nervous, just like you are. But what’s the best way to meet new folks?”

Clark rolled his eyes, but he couldn’t help grinning. “With kindness,” he said, parroting what Ma had told him a hundred times before.

“That’s right.” She ruffled his hair gently. “Now come on. Let’s give ‘em a proper Smallville welcome.”

Clark hopped off the porch, his boots kicking up little puffs of dirt as he and his mother made their way across the field that separated their farm from the neighbors’. He could see two men unloading furniture from the truck, lifting a couch and a couple of boxes toward the house. A woman stood nearby, shading her eyes with one hand as she surveyed the work. As Ma and Clark approached, the woman turned toward them and smiled.

“Hello there!” Ma Kent called out cheerfully, waving with her free hand.

The woman wiped her hands on her apron and walked over to greet them. Her hair was pulled into a neat bun, and her brown skin glowed in the sunlight. She looked warm and welcoming, the kind of person who could put anyone at ease with just a smile.

“Well, hello!” she said, her voice bright and full of energy. “You must be the Kents! I’m Flora Johnson. We’ve heard so many good things about you already.”

“And we’ve been lookin’ forward to meeting you,” Ma Kent replied, offering the pie with both hands. “We brought a little something—hope you all like apple pie.”

Flora’s eyes lit up as she accepted the pie. “Apple pie? Oh, this is just perfect! Thank you so much, Martha.” She handed Ma Kent a large glass jar filled with amber-colored honey. “My husband and I keep bees, so here’s a little something from our hive. You’ll never find better honey.”

Clark stood quietly by Ma’s side, his eyes flicking between the two women. He wasn’t sure when he was supposed to speak, and he felt like he was too big to hide behind Ma’s skirt but too shy to just stand there.

Flora seemed to notice Clark for the first time, her eyes softening as she bent down slightly to his level. “And who’s this handsome young man?”

“This is my son, Clark,” Ma Kent said with a proud smile. “Clark, say hello to Mrs. Johnson.”

Clark’s ears burned red as he mumbled, “Hello, ma’am,” keeping his eyes on the ground.

Flora chuckled softly. “A little shy, huh? Don’t worry, my daughter’s the same way. She’s around your age, but she’s probably hiding out in the barn right now. She’s not too thrilled about moving.”

Ma Kent gave Clark a gentle nudge. “Why don’t you go introduce yourself, Clark? I’m sure she’d love to meet someone her own age.”

Clark hesitated for a moment, but the idea of meeting someone new tugged at him, curiosity outweighing his nerves. “Okay,” he said, giving his mom a quick nod before walking toward the barn, his hands stuffed deep into his pockets.

As he rounded the side of the barn, he spotted a girl standing on the other side of a wooden fence. Her curly black hair, tied back with a red scarf, bounced as she tried to scramble over the fence. Her overalls, covered in tiny embroidered flowers, were dirt-smudged, and her face was scrunched up in concentration as she pulled herself up, one foot barely managing to hook over the top rail.

Clark watched for a moment, biting back a laugh, before stepping closer. “Uh, what’re you doing?”

The girl startled, her grip slipping as she dropped back down to the ground with a soft thud. She spun around, her eyes narrowing in suspicion. “I’m tryin’ to leave,” she muttered, wiping her hands on her overalls as she glared at him. “What’s it to you?”

Clark blinked, caught off guard by her bluntness. “Leave? But… you just got here.”

Layla frowned and crossed her arms. “I don’t like it here. What if the people here are mean? I don’t know anyone, and I don’t wanna be here.”

Clark tilted his head, thinking for a second before he stepped a little closer. “I’m not mean. And you know me now.”

The girl huffed but didn’t say anything, her stubbornness starting to crack a little.

“I’ll be your friend,” Clark said simply, his voice full of warmth. “That way, you don’t have to worry about not knowin’ anyone. I’m Clark, by the way.”

Layla’s frown slowly melted into something softer as she stared at him. Her cheeks flushed slightly as she dropped her arms to her sides. “I’m Layla,” she said quietly, kicking at the dirt with her boot. “You really wanna be my friend?”

Clark shrugged like it was the easiest thing in the world. “Why not? We’re neighbors, right? And I don’t got many friends either.”

Layla’s eyes widened a little, as if she couldn’t quite believe he meant it. She glanced back at the fence for a moment, then at Clark. Finally, she gave a small, hesitant smile. “You don’t seem like a bad neighbor.”

Clark smiled back, feeling a sense of relief and happiness spread through him. “And you don’t seem so bad yourself.”

Layla took a step forward, a little more confident now. “So… what do you do around here? Is there anything fun?”

Clark thought for a moment, then grinned. “Well, there’s a creek just down the hill. We can catch frogs and stuff. And sometimes Pa lets me drive the tractor. It’s pretty cool.”

Layla raised an eyebrow. “You can drive a tractor?”

Clark puffed out his chest a little. “Yup! Well, mostly just steer it. But it’s still fun.”

Layla giggled, the sound light and free. “Alright, that sounds kinda fun. Maybe this place won’t be so bad after all.”

Clark beamed, glad that he had managed to cheer her up. “Come on, I’ll show you the creek. It’s not far.”

Layla hesitated for a second, then nodded. “Okay, but you better not trick me.”

“I won’t!” Clark said with a laugh, already turning to lead the way. “Promise.”

As they walked back toward the barn, Layla glanced over at Clark, a small smile playing on her lips. Maybe this new place wouldn’t be so bad after all.

[luveax]

‎⋆ ｡ ୨୧˚ 𝑎𝑏𝑜𝑢𝑡 𝑚𝑒 ˚୨୧ ｡⋆

﹒➷﹐lu﹕she/her﹕blk asf﹒lil fruity 4 bae ^ᰔᩚ

20.Leo

. . angeℓ fe̼e̼ls . .

‎ ‎ ‎‎‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎੭୧ 'n' preƗƗy facꫀ 𖦹 ࣪ ˖

𓊆ྀི❤︎𓊇ྀི ⋆ ᰔᩚ ྀི₊ ⊹

⠀ ⌢ . ꒰ ⌢୨୧⌢ ꒱ . ⌢

enjoy your stay

♡ Twilight ♡ Rebel Ridge ♡ Vampire Diaries ♡ Criminal Minds ♡ NCIS ♡ The Originals ♡ Everyman Hybrid ♡ Marble Hornets ♡ (Open to new fandoms please ask. REQUESTS OPEN) ♡

My Master List!

I'll add more once I become obsessed with new fandoms! Thanks for taking a look?

⌢ . ꒰ ⌢୨୧⌢ 𓊆ྀི❤︎𓊇ྀི ⋆ ᰔᩚ ྀི₊ ⊹ ⌢ . ꒰ ⌢୨୧⌢

luv ya bye~

[cxcmay]

Meet Mezi <3

[dannimonart]

Digiworld RPG Imani Wangui by DannimonDesigns

[purplecowboygarden]

Two outfits with makeup

Anyway I want to pound pure vanilla cookie to oblivion.

[probablyintensemuses]

I Miss You, I’m Sorry.

Armando Aretas x black!female reader

🎧- I miss you, I’m sorry- Gracie Abram’s

summary: in an attempt to guard his heart, Armando pushes you away. But how far is too far? And will he ever have a chance to tell you his true feelings?

themes: angst and fluff.

warnings: gore and blood, kidnapping and murder mentioned.

authors note: I’m still obsessed with Armando. The more I think of him, the more I wonder how broken he must be and how confused and overwhelmed he might feel. I hope it can be explored more in future films <3

Hot and iced coffee was passed around to everyone in the compound, everyone but Armando.

You passed them out with a smile, never once looking his way.

The avoidance was purposeful, he could feel it in the way chills spread wide throughout his chest, desperate for the warmth of your gaze.

But you never gave it to him.

And maybe that had something to do with last night.

How he’d gone too far for the last time.

Last night, Armando was in a mood, working late at the compound. You’d found him crushing the weights, pressing out every dreading thought lingering in his head.

Like always, you’d been attempting to talk to him, let him see that he wasn’t alone.

You had approached him just as he was re-racking his weights and heading over to the treadmill.

With a small smile, you handed him a sweat towel. “What’s on your mind?” You asked, gently.

Armando wiped his face with the towel, tossing it to the side. “Nothing.” He grumbled.

You sighed, crossing your arms. “I know you’re lying. You only stay this late and train this hard when somethings bothering you.”

Armando eyed you, the fury of his troubles—his mothers lies and manipulation, all the innocence he’s lost as he killed for her, only for his life and legacy to amount up to nothing—glazing behind his eyes.

“Don’t try your psychologist bullshit on me.” He grumbled.

You swallow. “It is my job.”

“Not with me it’s not,’ he sizes you up with his shirtless frame.

“Armando, that’s not what I’m doing. I’m just checking on you, making sure you’re okay.”

“What do you even know about me?”

You place a hand on his chest, fingers caressing his heart. Armando tries not to melt at the touch, wishing he wasn’t so starved for this kind of affection all his life.

“I know your heart, and I know it’s heavy, because we’re friends.” You say.

Armando grabs your hand, removing it from his chest, before his body decides to suddenly combust.

He lets out a low, resentful chuckle. Armando didn’t have friends. He couldn’t even trust his own blood, let alone some stranger like you.

He didn’t know why you continuously tried to look for the good in him.

There wasn’t any.

He was a cold, hearted killer. And no amount of hugs, smiles, or coffee runs would change that. He wished you’d stop, because he would only hurt you with expectations in the end.

“Who ever said we were friends?” Armando says, coldly.

You frown. “I just thought—,”

Armando presses the treadmills start button, rubber fills the air with a stench.

“I’m surprised you can think, because if you could, you would have notice that our relationship is one sided.”

You frown, clutching at the bottom of your skirt. “Armando, you don’t mean the things you’re saying.” You croak. “I know you don’t.”

Armando takes a step forward, his rising anger pushing you back into a punching bag.

Cornered, Armando leans into. “I mean every, fucking, word.”

You slip past the punching bag, shaking your head. “No.”

Armando can see the tears building in your eyes. His heart burns, but a deep breath snuffs out the flames.

“Yes. Now leave me the fuck alone and get the fuck out before I say something we both regret.”

Armando points to the door.

You bite your lips, salty tears leaking one by one against your warm brown skin.

Armando’s fist shake at his sides, wishing he could punch himself as he watches you leave.

He thought, like many times before you’d be over the spat. But he was wrong, because you still haven’t looked his way.

And he’d kill just to have one last glance at your eyes.

By the time lunch roles around, you and Armando still haven’t talked.

The silence was killing him.

So the moment you hit the corner, walking back from your lunch break, Armando grabs you up, pulling you into a quiet room.

“What the hell,” you push away from him. “Did you just kidnap me?”

“Kidnapping would require me to take you to a second location.”

You roll your eyes, walking towards the door. “Please move. I’m leaving for my prison sessions soon.”

“You still working there part time?” Armando questions. “It’s dangerous.”

You roll your eyes. “Maybe you should come visit for a session one day, considering your mental deficiencies.”

You attempt to leave, but Armando’s hand sticks out, blocking your exit. “You’re not going anywhere, not until you tell me your issue. Are you still mad about what I said last night?”

You pause, folding your arms over your chest. “I thought you wanted me to leave you the fuck alone?”

“So this about last night.’ Armando smacks his lips. “That’s petty.”

“Petty?’ You throw your keys and purse down. “More like downright disrespectful, Armando.”

“Do you want an apology or something?” Armando scoffs.

“No, actually, I came to terms with some things after I left you last night.”

Armando’s eyebrows raise. “Yeah, and what’s that?”

Your smile is crooked, hurt, and so unlike you. “That you were right last night, we aren’t friends.’ You grab your belongings and brush past him. “So let’s continue to act like it, yeah?” You slam the door shut behind yourself, leaving Armando more hallow than before you two had even spoke.

Armando rubs a hand over his face, his hands eventually finding their way to his hips as he lets out a loud sigh.

Had he made the right choice? Had everything he’d said last night been the truth?

Or was he just afraid of the possibility that his mother wasn’t the only one who could betray him? Or that one day you’d go against your gut and see that there was no light in him, at all, and all he’d do is snuff yours out if you got to close.

It wasn’t clear, the truth muddied by desire and fear, but maybe the space was safer for you in the long run. Neither of you could be hurt that way, anyhow.

May he should take you up on your offer and go for a therapy session.

Armando finds his way back inside the compound where he sees the team gathered around one of the large plasma screams, watching a large, bloody fight play out.

“What’s going on?” He asks, catching everyone’s attention.

The footage pauses and everyone remains silent.

Mike swallows, consoling Kelly as she wipes at the tears on her face.

“A riot broke out at the prison.” Dorn swallows hard. “And there’s not doubt that she’s been taken hostage by a patient of hers.”

Armando blinks, shaking his head. “Hostage?” He swallows, his throat drying up. “What the hell do you mean, hostage?”

“I mean the guards can’t find her anywhere in the prison and her office looks like a struggles taken place.’ Dorn sighs, taking a seat. “We can’t even get in contact with her.”

Armando’s fist curl up as he stalks over to Dorn with a fury. “Well you better keep fucking trying geek squad.”

Dorn stands, sizing Armando up. “You don’t think I’m trying. The place is a fucking dead zone right now, no one can get into anything!”

Mike slips between the two, asserting his weight and presence. Armando pushes against him, flashes of what could be your fate play in his mind. “Well try harder, we need her exact location.’ He turns, heading to the armory. “We leave in thirty.”

Kelly stands. “Hold on, leave and go where? We don’t have clearance there.”

Armando slams his hands against the cages guarding the Armory, sending a shock wave through the compound. “Listen here, I don’t give a shit about clearance, and neither should any of y’all. If it was any one of us in that situation, she wouldn’t hesitate, so we should do the same.”

The group is quiet before they join Armando in the armory. They work in heavy silence as they suit up, cleaning and checking their guns.

Armando’s mind reels and slips, imagining what could happen to you. You had no combat or weapons training in the fiel, your specialties lied in communications as a liaison officer for the department. You also oversee some of AMMO’s operations along side Rita.

Going back to school for a PHD in psychology was merely prideful, as you didn’t need too, leading you to work on a thesis in regards to the psychology and reform of prisoners, which is exactly why you were missing now.

If anything happened to you, Armando didn’t think his heart could handle the massive guilt of pushing you away last night and letting you leave today. If someone could grant him one last wish to cling onto you and never let you loose, he’d take it in a heartbeat.

“Armando,’ Mike says, his voice crashing over Armando’s thoughts like a wave. “You ready?”

Armando clocks his gun, shoving a knife into his pants pocket.

“Yeah.” He says.

Mike pats his shoulders. “We’ll bring her home, okay.”

Adrenaline didn’t allow for Armando’s pride to take control, he just nodded, following behind the team as they stepped out and began the pursuit to the hospital.

As the van nears the prison, kelly moves toward the back with an iPad in hand.

“When we get inside, Mike and I will coordinate with the other officers on sight to try and gather as many prisoners as possible. Dorn you’ll be air support with the drowns, and Armando you’ll find—,”

The van comes to a stop and Armando slings his gun around his body, adjusting it in his grip. “I know what I need to do.” He kicks the door open, rushing inside.

Armando slammed through the prison doors, doing a quick sweep of the halls before perusing down them.

The prison smelt of sulfur, gas and water leaking from the ceilings and floors as he walked past. He couldn’t believe this was a place you’d actively chosen to go to, no woman like you deserved to be here.

Armando pushed past a lot of broken cell doors and hiding prisoners, he was just about to turn the corner when a scream erupts from behind him.

Your scream.

His blood freezes over and his fingers clutch and sweat against his guns trigger.

What if he was too late?

What if you were hurt…or worse?

Panic carries him as he bounds down the hall until he reachers the only door.

He sweeps into the room, a large stage front and center, pointing his rifle at the front of the room.

You’re being held hostage by a man whose eyes are darkened and lust field. This must have been your patient.

Armando’s eyes sweep your body. Your cheek is scraped and bleeding blood, along with your forehead, smooshing curls to your face along with sweat and tears.

Your once white pant suit is soiled and bloody and your heels are long gone.

Armando just wants to shoot the man holding you, but he can’t, not without risking your life. The man holds a knife to your neck, pressing in and drawing blood, seeing Armando’s gun, he uses you as a shield.

“Back the fuck up!” He shouts. “Or I slice her open and spray us fucking both with her blood.”

Armando’s heat skips a beat at the thought. His mouth opens, the closes, he knows better than to negotiate as he couldn’t, he was used to just killing for these kinds of threats. But right now this man held the upper hand by holding on to you.

“Armando,’ you said, voicing weak and unsteady. “Leave us, okay.”

Armando shakes his head. “I’m not leaving you, not again.”

You whimper and your eyes shut, leaving tears to spill from them. Your cries alone were enough for Armando to drop a few rounds in this man, but he needed to be strategic. Something like you. He needed to try to use his words because maybe if he had used them earlier or last night he wouldn’t have anything to regret if this was the last time he’d see you alive.

Armando took a few steps forward. “What would make you let her go?”

The man shook, looking around frantically. “A way out of this fucking hell pit.”

Armando shook his head. “What if I said I could you that, off the books.”

The man swallowed, loosening his grip on the knife against your neck. “How? How could you possibly do that when this place is swirling with fucking cops!”

“The way I came in, there’s no cops stationed over there, so let’s make a deal.’ Armando drops his gun, letting it hang at his side. “You let her go and I get you out of here.”

The man narrowed his eyes. “Give me your gun.”

Armando frowned. “Why?”

The knife presses back into your throat and you scream out in searing pain. “So you can’t shoot me fuck head! Now give it to me heart eyes, or I cut her open.”

“Armando! No!”

Armando takes off his gun, placing it on the floor. “It’s okay, el cariño .’ He says. “I’m gonna slide it over at the same time you let her go, okay?”

Armando slides the gun across the room and the man loosens his grip, giving you enough space slip out of his hold.

You limp across the room and fall into Armando’s arms, he catches you with ease, holding you steady.

“¿Estás bien bebé?’ He questions, frantically pushing your curls away from your forehead. “¿Dónde te duele?”

You don’t respond, instead you pass out on his arms. Armando lifts you up bridal style. Heat boils through him at the thought of this man hurting you.

There was no way he was going to let him go now.

“Let’s go,’ the man says, clocking Armando’s gun. “Or it’s her fucking head, then yours.”

Armando walks you and the man towards the exit he came from, hoping to not run into any cops on the way.

His ears were buzzing, he needed a way to dead this situation without jeopardizing your safety anymore than it already was. That’s when he felt something searing in his pocket.

The knife.

Armando sat you down, tucking you against the wall behind a cell door.

“The fuck you doing!” The man shouted, jutting the gun at Armando.

Armando kneels over, pretending to be out of breath. “She’s heavy and I’m tired. I need a break.”

“Nah, muscle-head,’ the man’s says, putting the guns cold muzzle against Armando’s back. “There’s no time to be tired. If she’s too heavy, leave her and come back once you get me out of here.”

Armando smirked.

He’s just where he needed him.

In quick, trained motion, Armando whips his knife out. He turns, slicing the man’s wrist.

The man screams out in paid, dropping the gun. Armando uses his leg and sweeps his feet from under him, casing him to land on his ass.

The man clutches his wrist, crying out in pain. Armando takes no sympathy when he picks up his gun and shoots him thrice in the chest.

Armando scoops you up once more, calling into his coms.

“I’ve got her,’ he breaths. “Get a kit together, she’s pretty bad.”

Armando holds you tight as he walks you down and out of the prison. The warmth of the sun hitting your skin, the glimmer reminding him of just what he’ll never let go of again.

###

A stir shifts Armando awake.

His eyes open, blurry from the nights sleep before sharpening and focusing on you.

You sit up in your bed, holding your torso and groaning in pain.

Armando sits up, grabbing your arm and helping you reposition.

“How are you?” He asks, stuffing your pillows behind your back.

“Where am I?” You mumble, holding your head. You reach up and touch the bandages on your forehead, feeling a sharp pain spread, causing you to hiss.

“The hospital, you were hurt yesterday in the riot.” Armando says, taking your small hand in his larger one.

You nod, and Armando’s heart sinks when he feels you pull your hand from his.

“So what are you doing here?” You ask.

“I’m here with you.”

“Why?” You turn, glaring at him. “I thought we weren’t friends.”

Armando sighs. “Bebita, I didn’t mean it like that.”

“How else could you mean it, Armando?”

His hearts pace quickens, last time he didn’t use his words, he nearly lost you. He didn’t want to risk it and waste anymore time with you. “I was scared.”

“What?” Your voice cracks.

Armando grabs your hand, squeezing it. “I was scared to loose you. I was afraid you’d see how fucked up I am, and just when I thought I had you, you’ll see the monster I am and push me away.”

You shake your head, squeezing Armando’s hand. “No, listen to me,’ you take his face in your hands. “You’re not a monster. You were lied to and you’re hurting.”

Armando melts into your touch as you stroke his cheeks with your thumbs. “I see the good in you, and I’ll always be there for you. I promise.”

A tear slips from Armando’s eyes, the truth of your words bleeding into him through the warmth of your touch. “I’m sorry,” he says, nuzzling into your touch and kissing your palms. “Cariño, lo siento mucho.”

“It’s okay,’ you sniffle. “Come here.” You pull him towards you.

Armando leans in, the hospital bed groaning under his weight as he takes you into his arms.

Armando takes your face into his hands, titling your head, placing his lips onto yours. You two melt into each other, kissing away the physical and mental pain you both harbor.

“I missed you,’ he moans against your lips, holding you tight. “Te extrañé mucho bebé.”

You slip your hands into his hair, pulling him down and on top of you.

“I missed you too.’ Breathlessly, Armando shivers, pressing himself into you. “So never push me away again.” You say.

Armando sucks in a breath, taking in how breathtaking you look underneath him. “Sí, mamá, lo prometo.”

[allkordelia]

Keep Me Near Your Heart XXVIII

| note: sorry for the long hiatus it was my birthday month in May and wanted to chill out bit. But no worries my little wyrmlings bc mother has delivered a new chapter. |

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

"May I hold him?" 

The question had me holding my baby to my chest as I snap my head at Rhaenyra, she look at me hopeful as she took a nervous step forward , making my insides twist at the thought of someone's else holding Laenor.

There are only a few people I trust to hold Laenor, the main ones are rhaelle and my husband, but something deep inside me was telling me to let her do it.

Odd enough, I nod my head.

Hesitantly, I walk over to the sofa with her following me, once we sat down I turn to her and made sure to carefully pass him over. Rhaenyra supported his head with her hand, I watch as she gaze down at him and slowly sway, her thumb moving to caress his temple.

Watching my mother be so gentle and careful with Laenor made me wonder if she was like that with me as a babe, I mean I can't really remember when my mother was so caring to me.

I don't think she ever even told me she love me.

"So odd."

My eyes fluttered rapidly as I pull myself from my thoughts, I look at my mother before looking at laenor.

"What?" I asked a bit worried, looking back at her with furrow brows as she look at me.

"Nothing bad." She reassures, calming me a bit with a look, before looking back at him with a sad smile, "He just...looks like your uncle, Baelon." I furrow my brows at sudden information.

"I didn't know Alicent had another son."

Rhaenyra chuckled sadly looking down as she stops swaying.

"No. Your grandmother, my mother. I was around your age when they both died, before we had to burn them, I had a chance to get a moment alone to see my mother and...my brother for the first and last time." Rhaenyra trails off, making me frown at her as her eyes gloss over, "You know there was a time...where I  never imagine myself becoming heir."

"It felt like a dream. A dream I was once okay with never having." Rhaenyra bit inside of her cheek as she caress Laenor's temple with her thumb, before she turn her misty eyes to me, "So, you must understand I was young when I made my mistakes."

"Rhaenyra, what is this about?" I squint my eyes at her.

"I want us to start over."

I look away from her.

"Jaenara, please–"

"I already told you I forgiven Jace, you do not need to do this–"

"No, I want to do this." I look at her for a moment.

"I know Viserys or Rhaelle put you up to–"

"Your grandfather doesn't know I'm here  and rhaelle threatened to break my legs if I step foot in your direction." She answered before I could get my words out.

I tilt my head to the side at her words, funny enough it's not that unbelievable.

"And yet your here."

Rhaenyra gives me this look.

"I needed to see you."

Before I could say a word, Laenor started to fuss in her arms, my heart felt like it was gonna jump out of my chest when I heard his whimpers. I got off the sofa without a second thought and took  my baby from Rhaenyra, I move away from here as I bounce him gently slowly  settling him down.

"I didn't mean to upset him...or you." I look at her as her voice sounded almost small and regretful.

"You didn't." I reassured her, making her  look up at me, "He just had a long day." I look down at my baby as he rest against my chest.

"I can leave–"

"No." I stopped her, catching us both by surprise, "You said you wanted to start over? If your not being coerced than your doing this out of pity."

"No–"

"Then, what? Guilt." I asked staring at her as she look at me, "You made me feel wanted but yet neglected me."

"I know." She replied her voice filled with sadness.

"You made me feel like an outsider in my home." I step close to her, rhaenyra look down at her hands.

"I know."

"Do you? Do you know because it feels like you never have. You never truely understood how much I loved you and how much I needed you throughout my life. You have no idea how much I looked up to you, gods! I would have done anything for you." My throat tighten as all the emotions I felt from before come back crashing into me again, "Why couldn't you love me like Jace and Lucerys, why did I have to be different."

Rhaenyra squeezed her eyes shut, looking as though she was about to break down. She exhaled shakily before clearing her throat.

"I did love you. Deep, deep down. And I still do, you must trust me on that." She sniffed, flicking away the tears that escaped as she looked at me.

I don't know what to believe from her, I still think this is her way to get back in rhaelle or viserys good graces. But, something else inside me still gives me some sad hope for us. Something that I tried to bury ever since our confrontation in godswood, I wish the feeling would go away. I wish had the power to stop wanting her to accept me as her daughter, truth be told I don't think I can ever stop truely loving my mother.

But, she doesn't need to know that.

"How can I trust anything you say after all you done and said, after what you done to Rhaelle."

For the first time since I known Rhaenyra, she looked away deeply hurt and guilty.

"I was wrong. I was angry and...blinded by my own self-righteousness." Shs said the last words with so much disappointment and disgust, before she look at me again, "I blamed her for everything that went wrong in my life. I blame her for taking my father away, for  causing my mother so much pain...for taking Daemon away." She sighs as if tired of it all.

"And I blamed you for Rhaelle being right." I furrow my brows as a sad smile came upon her lips, "She was right about the tea, that night I laid in bed with your father and.... " Her eyes drifted away if she was going to say someone else before shaking her head her, "And we made you. The next morning I was sick to my stomach and I knew. She was right again and I hated that."

"But, why? Rhaelle said you ask for the tea."

Rhaenyra shook her head, "Do you know how long I tried to get pregnant by your father, how many ways we tried to accommodate his needs to give him an heir?" I frown, "I always heard about the powers that Magonsæte's holds, how their springs made you young forever or their herbs can heal any disease known to mankind. I wrote those off as nothing more than rumors until I visited your aunt that faithful day."

"It wasn't fair that took me years to give him a child, and only took your aunt two minutes to make our wish come true. So, i was angey and so tired feeling like child next to her that i took it out on you, and im so sorry for that."

I sighed.

"I really wish I could trust your words, rhaenyra. But, you and Jace have shown me time and time again that you two cannot be trusted. Especially Jace."

A look past through her face making her clench her hands together.

"Please, do not give up on your brother so soon, Jaenara. He is confuse and conflicted." I couldn't retain my scoff at her words.

"So, I should give him a pass for what he did–"

"No, I didn't say that and I will never ever ask you too. What your brother did was unthinkable, but..." Rhaenyra paused before taking a steps towards me, so we were only a foot away from each other, "You must know you are different from your brothers, that you four don't share..." I squint her as her words died in her throat.

"Your brother is threatened by you, Jaenara." Her words had me pausing for a moment, "Ever since Joffrey's birth. Your brother has become more and more aware of his...lineage and it is causing him to question things." She says hesitantly.

"Oh."

I look away at what she was getting at.

I place my now sleeping babe in his cot before turning back to her with my arms cross over my chest.

"So, this is about the line of succession."

A look of fear cross Rhaenyra's feature, she bow her head with slight nod.

"It is hard to say out loud why it concerns you, and I know I have no right to ask you to talk to him. To ease his worries–" I couldn't help the giggle that passed through my lips at her request, I look at Rhaenyra as she stare at me worried.

I sigh and rid my face of any amusement.

"Lay down your worries mother." I move towards her and grab her hands, rhaenyra look at me taken aback, "I have known of my my brothers' lineage for a while now..." Rhaenyra looks down, I squeeze her hands gently making look at me with tears swell her eyes again, "And I have always defended them and I will never stop, as this scar right here is proof of that." The tip of my finger gaze the side of my temple where the scar was.

A sob broke out of Rhaenyra as she threw herself against me, she held me against her as she weeps in my shoulder.

"Oh, my sweet daughter. I'm so sorry. I'm so so sorry."

I rubbed her back to console her. Letting her finally let it all out.

[hon3yjaxx]

My black QB did his thing tonight with his fine self. 😩🖤💚🦅🫶🏽