#henry pearl angst

[viking-raider]

Moon Crazed *Mature*

Summary: Henry seems especially crazed on his birthday, and you don't understand why, until you check the calendar again.

Pairing: Henry Cavill/Reader

Word Count: 2.9k

Warning: M - Fluff, Angst, Banter, Pet Names, Language, Gray Hair Appreciation, Cuddles, Supportive Spouse SMUT - Birthday Sex, Oral (F receiving), Fingering (F Receiving), Unprotected Sex (Wrap it!), Possible Voyeurism, Sneak Attacks, Doggy Style, Hickeys, Dirty Talk, Rough Sex, Super light Anal, Rutting, Hinted Breeding Kink, Light Spanking, Body Fluids, Biting

Inspiration: Henry's 40th Birthday being on a literal Full Moon!

Author’s Note: I hope you enjoy this! Line divider by @FIREFLY-GRAPHICS!

If you would like to get notifications for my writing! Just follow my Tag List blog, @VIKING-RAIDER-TAGLISTand turn on the notifications for it! It’s that easy! @VIKING-RAIDER-LIBRARY

You hummed softly, standing at the refrigerator as you filled your water bottle with ice from the dispenser. Unaware of the predator stalking up behind you. Until strong hands grabbed a hold of your hips, causing you to let out a startled scream and drop your bottle, the ice chips rattling in the black plastic as it struck the hardwood floor.

“Henry!” You yelped as he spun you around to face him, but smiled, nonetheless. “What are-” You started, but he captured your lips in a hungry, heated kiss, that had you breathless before you could finish your question.

There were black spots in your eyes, when the kiss finally broke and you were dizzy, only vaguely aware of a coolness from your waist down, then Henry's hands were back on your hips and he was lifting you onto the island in the middle of the kitchen. You hissed, feeling the cold butcher block on your bare skin, Henry having stripped you of your pants and underwear.

“Whoa, Cavill!” You huffed, pressing your knees together and planting your palms to his collarbone. “The fuck has you so crazed?” You asked, seeing how bright, clear and wild his blue eyes were, his pupils blown out from his mounting arousal.

“This.” He purred, his voice rumbling, as his fingers swiped at your exposed folds.

“Oh, holy Jesus!” You gasped, off guard, wiggling on the counter. “Right, Okay.” You panted, softly. “Birthday boy is in a mood.”

“Birthday boy is hungry.” He growled, dropping to his knees and yanking you to the edge of the island, your legs draped over his broad shoulders, while his mouth showed no mercy at attacking your womanhood.

Your hands flew to his head, fingers tangling in his curls. “What is it? A full moon!” You cried out, eyes crossing and rolling back, feeling Henry's tongue swirl against your swelling clit. “Hen-Ry.” You moaned, hands slipping from his hair as you fell back across the counter, the muscles of your thighs twitching under his onslaught.

“Such nice red velvet.” He cooed, his breath hot against your wet folds, as he licked your icing off his lips.

“You're crazy.” You wheezed back, your head lulling side to side, while you gazed up at the vaulted ceiling.

Smirking, Henry pressed his lips to your humming pearl, drawing a breathy moan from deep in your throat, with the gentle suckles that only grew with intensity. His tongue flicking out to tease, torture and collect your sweet nectar, but never yet permitting the mounting rapture that balanced on a knife's edge. You tried rolling your hips against his mouth, antsy to feel that sweet relief at the mercy of his skilled mouth. But Henry's hands gripped them, pinning you to the counter with a near bruising strength.

“It's my birthday.” Henry huffed between your thighs, glaring up the length of your heaving body, feeling the throb of his clothed girth at the sight of the mounds of your breasts, nipples hard through the fabric of your shirt. “Behave.” He growled, slipping a hand into your shirt to pinch and tease one of your peaks, while his mouth left a dark purple mark on the inside of your trembling thigh.

You shivered at the contact, whimpering, but laid as still as you could. Henry chuckled, loving the madness he was driving you into. He laid an open mouth kiss to your pearl and took a deep breath, filling his senses with your heady scent, that only seemed to drag him deeper into his own psychosis. You hiccuped at the feel of his teeth nipping at your dripping petals, lifting your head and letting out a shocked huff at Henry, whose eyes only regarded you mischievously, not willing to stop and lift his head.

His tongue finally split you open, licking and snaking down your tunnel, chuckling at the hums and pants you were making at the attention. He removed his hand from your hip, his thumb easily finding your clit and applied just the right amount of pressure as his tongue found your spot.

Starting to hiccup, with surprise at the rushing of the orgasm that hit you, your back curving off the counter, before it caught in your throat, face twisting in ecstasy. “Henry!” You cried out, breaking through the surprise, “Oh god, Hen!” You mewled, falling limp as it wore off.

Henry stood up, a heavenly and satisfied look on his face. “Mmm.” He moaned, smirking at you. “You taste so damn good, baby girl.” He chuckled, wiping at the droplets on his lips and chin, before tugging down his sweatpants.

“Shit!” You cried out, nails clawing at the butcher block underneath you as Henry eased his weeping cock into you. “Warn a girl!” You barked, hooking your shaking legs around his thighs.

“That was your warning, babe.” Henry laughed, gripping one of your hips and planting his other hand on the counter, as leverage.

You looked up at Henry and saw a familiar glint in his blue eyes, but it seemed a bit more than usual. “Christ alive.” You sighed, gripping the wrist he had at your hip.

“You're all strapped in, honey?” He chuckled, rubbing your hip with his thumb.

“I know you, Cavill!” You answered, clenching around him.

Moaning, Henry bit his bottom lip and pushed his hips forward into you with as much strength as he could, rocking you further up the counter. With his pace set, Henry didn't relent, not even when your nails broke the skin of his wrist.

“Filling you up never gets old, babe.” Henry panted, recovering from his climax. “Unlike somethings.”

“The hell does that mean?” You wheezed, gulping thickly.

“Nothing.” He sighed, pulling you up and kissing you sweetly on the lips. “Just rambling. Come take a shower with me?” He asked, smiling at you.

“Of course.” You nodded, sliding off the island and following upstairs to the master bathroom.

Later that afternoon, you stood in the laundry room tossing things from a hamper into the washing machine, when you looked up and saw Henry's reflection in the window that was behind the machine.

“Hey there, handsome.” You cooed at him, leaning into the hamper to grab the last handful of dirty clothes. “Did you have a good workout?” You asked, tossing them in and closing the lid.

“Mmhm.” He replied, resting his shoulder against the door frame to watch you.

“Good.” You smiled, pushing up on your toes to reach the controls and started the machine, just as Henry pushed off the door towards you, trapping you against the vibrating appliance. “What—Oh, this again?” You purred, feeling his hand slip around you and into the band of your leggings and panties. “You are in a randy mood today, Puppy.” You said, in a sultry voice.

“Just today?” He husked back, gently rubbing your still, slightly, sore delicates.

You chuckled softly, unsure how to answer that or if it was rhetorical. “You always make me feel good, Henry.” You moaned, letting your head fall back against his shoulder. “Above other things.” You smirked, kissing the underside of his jaw.

“Mmm.” Henry moaned back at you, working his fingers a little more vigorously against your privates. “What other things?” He asked, pushing your shirt up and cupping one of your breasts in his paw.

“I think you're currently do-doing a goo-good job.” You gulped, pressing your back harder against his chiseled chest.

“Oh yeah?” He smirked, pressing his lips to the top of your head, as a finger crooked into your entrance, teasing. “You like when I finger you?”

“Like is an inadequate word.” You whimpered, toes curling against the tiles of the laundry room floor. “Love it. Get off on the mere thought of. Have a yearning for most hours of the day.” You confessed, bracing a hand on the edge of the washer to help keep yourself up.

Henry smiled into your hair and allowed you to give in, feeling your wet warmth wash over his hand. “I love pleasuring you, more than almost everything else.” He cooed, turning you around to cup your face in his sticky hand, kissing you deeply.

“More laundry.” You giggled, after breaking the kiss, taking off your leggings and soiled panties, opening the washer machine to toss them in, yelping as Henry's hand connected to your bum.

“If I had it my way, you'd only be naked at home.” He grinned, biting the corner of his lip at the mere thought of getting to see your naked body at all hours in the privacy of your home.

“Oh, of that I am sure, my love.” You snorted, nodding your head. “And the feeling is mutual.” You added, tugging on the front of his shirt.

“I can fix that.” Henry laughed, blue eyes glittering.

Laying on your bed, arms folded beneath you, exhausted from the events of the day, you were again unaware of Henry coming for you, until you heard the floor creak.

“Christ alive!” You spooked, looking at him, before busting out into a smile, finding he was stark naked. “What has gotten into you, Henry?” You asked, rolling onto your back to look at him. “Twice already today we've had shenanigans throughout the house.” You said, running your eyes along his godly body. “Not counting our regular morning meeting.”

“Is it so hard to believe I can't get enough of you.” Henry asked, cocking a brow in your direction.

“No, not in the slightest, husband.” You purred at him, feeling his waves of need coming off of him, even from the gap between you. “It's just strange. You haven't been this needy in quite a while.”

“I've been on a mission to correct that.” He confessed, closing that gap. “Get undressed.” He ordered you, standing at the edge of the bed.

Smirking at him, you pulled your shirt off over your head, breasts bouncing as you did, much to Henry's delight and increased arousal. But when it came to your shorts, thumbs hooking in the waistband of them and your panties, you pushed them down painfully slow, your eyes dead on Henry's. You watched his throat bob and his fingers flex, as he pulled out every ounce of willpower not to launch forwards and rip the article of clothing off of you, himself.

His willpower finally broke and he snatched your pants off the rest of the way, tossing them carelessly aside, then climbing into bed with you, rolling you back onto your belly.

“Oh, we're just being a ball of fun today!” You giggled, as he used his knees to push your legs apart, one thick arm wrapping around your waist and hoisted your hips and bum up, while rutting his hard cock against the valley of your cheeks, grunting in your ear.

“I'll show you fun.” He growled, biting the side of your neck, while grasping himself at the base.

You let out a breath, feeling his tip run down between your cheeks, making the space slick with glossy droplets. He paused to tease your special hole, causing you to gasp and clench in surprise, a rumble of a chuckle bubbling out of Henry as he carried on, rubbing your pleasantly weeping entrance.

“Do you like it when I play with you?” He rasped, pressing his forehead against your temple, his eyes dark, like a storm over an ocean. “When I fill you up.”

“Hm.” You hummed, pushing back against him, eager and impatient to feel him fill you again. “I love it.” You whispered, breathily. “It makes me feel good, Henry.”

Smirking, Henry slowly eased himself inside of you, wanting to feel every little bit as he did. A shiver ran down both your backs as the last inch of his manhood came to rest in your sensitive canal, flexing and molding around him. With quick snaps of his hips, Henry drove himself into you without giving away any ground.

You moaned, hands twisting up in the duvet beneath you as Henry rocked harder into you. Arching your back more, adjusting him and causing you to let out a sweet, almost deafening, cry. Henry grasped the underside of your jaw, pulling your head back to rest on his shoulder and closing his mouth against your throat, timing his sucks and bites with his thrusts.

Leaving behind yet another mark of his passion for you.

“Henry, please.” You moaned, brows creasing. “Touch me.” You gulped, licking your lips.

He moaned against your neck, removing his hand from your face to slip it beneath you, finding your swollen bud, drenched in your combined fluids. Henry was torturous at rubbing clit, but did nothing to rush the pace of his hips. You whined, kicking your feet a little bit and shifting your knees to try and get more leverage, but Henry used his own body to keep you in place.

“You devil.” You sighed at him, yanking your neck away from his mouth.

“Mmhm.” Henry hummed back, not missing a beat, but smirked at you devilishly, before pulling away from you, standing up on his knees to watch himself slide in and out of you. “What a beautiful sight this is.” He purred, rubbing his palm up and down your glistening back, squeezing your neck for a moment.

“Pity you can't see it yourself.”

“Feels amazing as is, big boy.” You answered, propping yourself up on your elbows.

Henry popped you on the ass, applying more pressure to your clit and increased his thrusts, rocking the headboard against the wall. You gripped the duvet for leverage and rocked in tune with him, feeling the hot build of your climax, soft whimpers leaving your parted lips and tears blurring your vision as it finally boiled over, surging around Henry's shaft, the hot pulse intensifying as his own orgasm mounted.

“Henry!” You cried, the sensation of him pumping searing ribbons of his seed into you just as maddening compared to your own.

Pulling out of you, Henry dropped to his side beside you, flushed, sweaty and panting. You rolled onto your side, unfazed by the massive wet spot on the blanket the two of you made, and looked at your husband, smirking. Reaching out for him and gently brushing the damp curls off his forehead, your eyes softening at the sight of the grays you saw in them. Especially at his temple. They drew a smile across your lips.

“What are you smiling about?” Henry asked lazily, cracking an eye at you.

You giggled at him, wiggling in closer. “Just noticing all the new grays you have.” You cooed, resting your head on his bicep and twisting the graying curl around the tip of your index finger, fondly, only to have Henry turn his head out of your grasp.

“Old man.” He huffed, a frustrated crease between his brows.

“Hardly!” You laughed, amused, pressing a kiss on his sternum. “Just because you turned forty today, doesn't make you an old man, Cavill.”

“I damn well feel like one.” Henry growled, fixing his blue eyes on you. “Never this winded after making love to you.”

You sucked your bottom lip in, biting down on it, as you regarded him with understanding and loving eyes. “Is this what everything's been about today?” You finally asked, cupping his bearded cheek. “You sneak attacking me everywhere in the house.” You smirked, your body tingling at just recalling them, but your smile faded seeing the look in his eyes and face.

“Do you think you can't--” You struggled for a moment, a lump in your throat.

“Satisfy you.” He finished for you. “Yes. I've been worried that hitting forty meant that I would lose the ability to keep satisfying you. Seeing the gray hairs in the morning, when I get up to shower, has only increased that anxiety.” He confessed, looking away from you.

“Henry.” You mewled, heartbroken at your husband's words. “You have never lacked there, or anywhere. Today is a fine example of that.” You tried to get him to understand. “We were intimate four times throughout the day, on top of the festivities for your birthday. You have nothing to be concerned about.”

Henry looked back up at you, a look of relief in his cerulean orbs. “You don't think I look silly with them?”

You huffed and clicked your tongue at him, rolling your eyes. “Henry Cavill, I've known and seen you with a great many looks over the last eight years, because of your occupation, and I've never known you to look silly.” You told him, honestly. “Even when you thought you would with the Kingstache.” You giggled, grinning at that memory.

“Lord, that was an identity crisis.” He huffed, shaking his head.

“But,” You looked him squarely in the eyes. “You with gray hair is rather dashing, in my opinion, and I can't wait to see a few more.”

“Oh, that's how it is!” He said, wrapping his arms around you and rolling onto his back, so you straddled his waist. “You like being married to this gray fox!” He laughed, pawing at your butt.

“What is this! A full moon!” You whooped, wiggling out of his grasp to grab your phone and pulled up what phase it was. “Sure as hell!” You laughed, looking over at him. “Your birthday is a full moon!” You smirked, setting your phone back on the nightstand and crawled back into bed with him.

“So, my gray fox is Moon Crazed!”

“Crazed by something.” Henry purred, pulling you in for a kiss.

[wolvbrattxx]

Family matters (part two)

Summary: After the horrible introduction to each other, Logan wants to find Loren and to talk to her privately. However, when the two of them meet in the laboratory, a heated conflict ruins the attempt to rebuild a lost friendship. Loren's prejudice holds her, not allowing Logan to get close. Tags: Hugh Jackman!Logan, Ororor's sister!Loren, angst, self-doubt, regrets, conflict, oc x canon, alcohol, smoking, swearing. Word count: 4164 Previous chapter

More than a week passed since Logan has last seen Loren.

Surprisingly, nothing much has happened during that time. Jean remained in coma, but her condition improved day by day. Scott's physical state was the same, as he was struggling to walk and perform primary abilities. Only Ororo seemed happier than ever - a dazing smile never failed to leave her face, making her the embodiment of the sun itself. It seemed like even the biggest tragedy couldn't affect her bright mood. How else can one feel, when your beloved one is always in your sight? Henry was less seen, as he spent most of his time in the laboratory working with dear friend - Loren.

For Logan, each day of the week was bland and depressing.

Something turned in inside, making his world spin round and round, ever since Scott took revenge on Logan. Though he couldn't hide his grumpiness from the suffering one, his features seemed softer as their eyes met in the hallways. He tried to help Scott rebuild the damaged body, but his efforts were discarded into the void, as Scott always pushed his help away. Hell, the old man even tried to apologize for his actions, but it didn't reach the other. Scott didn't even want Logan to come near him, let alone help him. He still felt pain and disgust after seeing Jean cheating with Logan. He couldn't possibly bear it, his feelings (perhaps pride, disappointment, betrayal, self-pity) didn't allow it. Soon enough, Logan gave up and found the weight on his shoulders too heavy to handle. He couldn't erase the past, but even the attempt to fix and make up for it didn't provide any help whatsoever.

Here he was, sitting by an old oak tree, which wasn't any special than others that surrounded him. He let out small puffs of his cheap cigar's smoke and drank his even cheaper beer in the middle of the night. Stars shone like tiny pearls through the veined leaves, irritating his already red eyes. They were the only ones that were trying to comfort his mood in this evening, even attempting to invite him to get some rest. Logan wished to get drunk at least once in his lifetime, so it could provide at least any ease to his heavy mind, but it was impossible with regenerative powers. Being alone didn't really bother him, as anyone else seemed to annoy him, even though he secretly dreamed to meet Loren again. He wanted to make up for the horrible introduction, prove her that he isn't just some kind of scum. After all, Logan was just a lost man in a terrible world that either took everything from him or wanted to destroy him.

The days went off fine as Logan trained with his team members or students in the danger room. It made him forget everything that happened for the week, as training required full concentration and attention, leaving no time to focus on harsh thoughts or regrets.

Most of his evening were also occupied with a couple of his drunk buddies: Rogue and Remy. Both of them made Logan's gloomy feelings disappear, surrounding his mind with carelessness, laughter and annoying chattering that made him out of touch with the reality. Yet, he always had to act as a father for the two, helping them to reach their beds while carrying jelly-like bodies into their rooms. Overall, both provided comforting company, as they weren't judgeful. Rogue and Gambit still saw Logan as a member of their strange family and wanted to make his depressing days happier even in a slightest bit.

"Suga', we all do somethin' stupid once in a while'. No need to beat ya'self up like' that. Heck, even I made plenty." Rogue used to say, patting Logan's shoulder with a hiccup interrupting her words.

"Exactly, mon ami, don't let it get to you. Time will help you, only time." Remy added, nodding his head to Rogue's words.

Sadly, that wasn't enough, as dark thoughts were making him fall into a deeper pit of sorrow. Sleeplessness creeped in and once again, every night was filled with nightmares.

Logan rubbed his tired face, massaging the tensed facial muscles. He wanted to disappear again, like he did once before. At least for a year or so. Then everyone's lives will go back to how it was before his arrival: peaceful, flowing, progressing. Scott and Jean could make up for the past, start their own little family together and Logan would move on. Perhaps. At least that's what he wanted to imagine, though it seemed impossible, realistically speaking. He felt so tired of feeling lonely, forgotten or left out over someone else. He wanted to feel something softer, something that would make him feel lighter and happier, but was it truly possible?

His eyes wandered at the mansion that proudly stood in the middle of nowhere and noticed the bright lights in the laboratory. Hank must be working on something, Logan smiled at the idea. It wouldn't hurt to give him a visit, would it?

Logan stood up on his feet that were paralyzed by stillness, trying to get them back to work while stretching his entire body. He picked up the empty bottles, knowing that Charles would definitely give him some comments if he'd leave them, as if the professor was Logan's own father, and threw them out into the trash can. The fog rose above the pond and slowly swallowed everything that got in it's way, but the light still showed the way into the mansion. And so, he dragged heavy feet inside, making his way into the laboratory.

Hank was a good listener, was maybe opening up to him could ease thoughts? After all, he had a baggage of wise words, once said by the famous philosophers of the past or written by the best novelists/poets.

The automatic door slowly opened, recognizing Logan as a member of the institution and the part of the X-Men. Firstly, his ears were met by the unnerving sound of computer's keyboard clicking, clacking and pop hits of 2000's, supplemented with soft melodic humming. The last two sounds didn't even remind him of Hank's usual repertoire, as it was necessary to play classical music at such a time to keep him focused on the task.

Logan took a single steep inside and curiously looked to the side, where the working table could be found. He was slightly shocked to find Loren sitting in front of the computer, though it was late already. Out of all times, it was this one that they had to meet. She clearly didn't expect visitors as well, and her pajamas made sure to notify that. She wore loose black pants and a tight white tank top, hiding her short white hair in a black silky bonnet. The look of her face seemed worse since dark circles surrounded those icy eyes, making her look as if she hasn't slept for days and her dark skin slightly paled, hinting that she was probably malnourished in the process. Her state tried to tell him that she was about to go to sleep, but it was far from truth. The amount of mugs told another story: the strong black coffee's scent in the air hit nostrils' so deeply, that it made his head spin.

Loren's head turned to greet the stranger that interrupted her work in the middle of the night. She couldn't erase the annoyance off her face since the intruder made her lose an incredible thought. Her eyes fluttered in shock as she witnessed Logan staring at her, but quickly relaxed and her brows faintly furrowed into their natural state.

"Oh, it's you, Logan. Need something?"

Logan blinked for a couple of times and cleared his throat. "Was searching for Hank, is he on a break or-"

"Sleeping." She cut him off, turning back to work, clearly screaming from her posture: 'leave me alone'.

"I see." Logan mumbled silently, but his feet didn't move from where he stood.

Loren typed something fast on the computer. Logan peeped his head to the side to see what's she was doing. It looked confusing, he wasn't sure of what he saw: programming, science, equations, scales, diagrams. So many things that he couldn't wrap his head around, but it made him feel respect to the hard work that she was obviously putting. Logan wanted to converse with Loren, at least for a little bit, try to rebuild something. There couldn't be harm in trying.

"What you've been up to?" Logan started, his voice not as confident as he wished.

"Solving problems, trying to make our gear better." She replied, not breaking her eye contact with the screen.

"Must be hard."

Loren hummed in response, agreeing with his words.

Another minute of silence passed. Logan bit his lip, trying to get something in his mind, but it was harder than it looked. He took careful steps closer to her, glancing over her shoulder.

"What you've been studying?"

"Look," Loren flipped her chair to Logan's side and her expression was brutal. Her tired eyes narrowed to slits, glaring without a single blink and her eyebrows pressed closer to one another. Her voice was loud enough to put one into place. "I don't know if you can see, but I'm working. I'm really not interested to talk right now. Go bother someone else; I'm sure you'll find company."

Logan stumbled back after such an attack. It caught him off-guard. He wondered was it something that he said that made her mood turn. Sure, she was absolutely tired, but was such attitude necessary? He felt his defense rising up slowly, as he confidently placed his feet on the ground.

"What's up in your ass?"

"Thought that I've made my stance clear last time we saw each other, no?" She sneered at Logan, still not backing down her ground.

"Oh, that I'm a shameless brute?" Logan replied, his jaw visibly tensing. "Heard that before, no worries, bub."

"Bub? Who do you think you are to call me that?" Loren stood up and took fierce steps forward, making the chair almost fall down from her powerful moves.

"What? Don't like it?" Logan crossed his arms against the muscular chest. "Want me to call you princess instead?"

Loren's eyelid twitched.

"I don't have a problem with the nickname. My only problem is that you're calling me that," she stood right in front of him, almost spitting those words in his face. "I hate infidelity and I hate those, who take part in it."

"So that's your problem," Logan felt his eyes flickering from the anger and sorrow building up on his tongue. "Infidelity." He laughed, almost mockingly.

"Laugh all you want, asshole, but I will support Scott in this."

"Oh no, that made me shiver!" He raised his hands up in defense, trying to ridicule her.

"Don't mock me. You don't understand how it feels to see your friends breaking up over a tiny interest. Trust me, you mean nothing to Jean, no offense," Loren pointed a finger at his sternum and poked it. "I've seen them go through heaven and hell together. They've been through too much, seen too much, talked too much, dreamed too much of their future together, so your presence in Jean's life is a mere adventure to her. I'm saying this not only for their good, but for your own as well. Have some self-respect for god's sake; don't dip your fucking feet into an established relationship. You act like there are no other women in this world."

Logan took a step back again, hardly believing that Ororo's sister had such a sharp tongue. Gambit wasn't lying when he said that Loren could be a bigger storm then her own sister. His head spun from the emotions that were starting to choke him.

"Jean was to first one to understand me."

"So you'll fall for any woman who will understand you, is that it?" Loren's voice rose into a shout.

"You don't choose who to love, y'know?" He replied slowly to her harsh words.

"But you can choose to step back." She talked back, not even trying to hide her disgust.

"You don't get it." Logan turned to leave. It wasn't worth to continue this pointless conversation.

"Don't get what?" Loren scorned, pacing after his footsteps.

"You don't get that I understand what my stupid ass actions made me pay for," he faced her once more, stopping at the door that has already opened. "I understand that what I did was wrong. Hell, I did it from impulse and must admit: it was a dumb decision. I've tried to make for it."

"How? You're talking like it's possible to change the past... It's something hard to forgive for, you know."

"I look like a dumbass, that's a fact, but as a smart woman, you shouldn't forget that there is more to people than past mistakes. Try to look deeper sometime, not just at the surface," Logan cut off the conversation with those last words and walked out of the laboratory. "Night', Loren."

The door closed behind him in a perfect timing.

Logan took few steps forward and felt weak in his knees. He leaned against the metallic wall and slid down to the ground, feeling defeated. That woman definitely caused a storm in both mind and heart. For the first in the whole week, he felt sleepy in his dreadful thoughts that were trying to drown him deeper in sorrow. Thankfully, Loren didn't rush after him with her cruel remarks, he was sure that she would poke fun of his current helplessness. Logan sighed into his hands that were rubbing the fatigue out of eyes. Finally, his body gave in to the efforts to stand up and reach his bedroom. He planted heavy steps ahead under duress, his eyes fixating on the cold ground. At such a minute, he felt like blacking out by the chronic fatigue that followed him for the entire week.

Luckily, Logan managed to reach his destination and collapsed on the bed, fully clothed, as all of his energy suddenly disappeared.

The morning started slowly, but as per usual. The night provided refreshment once again. Fatigue can do something nice once in a while, it seems.

Logan washed up; dressed differently today, only changing his flare jeans into tighter ones and tank top into a flannel shirt, but the leather jacket had to stay on as a rule.

This morning he felt the need to talk with someone of the things that bothered him for a while now. Out of all options, he chose the professor, who will surely try to understand his concerns. So, Logan rocked forward through the hallways, being friendly around kids that looked up to him and friendlier with those, that caught his heart dearly.

However, surprises can't be unseen at some times.

Once again, out of all days, it was this one that Loren finally walked pass him in the hallway. She looked better than yesterday, but still tired, hurrying somewhere. She carried a ton of books in one hand, constantly checking her clock, while her shoulder was leaning down from the weight of the papers.

Once Loren realized, that Logan headed right before her view, she quickly grasped his arm.

He glanced at the side where he the sudden touch and cocked a brow at her. The pleasant smell of tobacco caught his senses, as it rose directly from her rich dark skin.

"Logan..." Loren started, immersing her gaze on to the creaking wooden floor, which was ornamented with brilliant symbols. Suddenly, she snapped out of her daze and looked at the clock on her hand, hissing silently at it. "I have to go, let's catch up later, okay?"

Loren ran away without giving Logan a chance to reply, just to follow her figure with his eyes that was slowly fading away in the corridor.

Soon enough, Logan knocked on Xavier's door, making sure that he was alone before entering the office. Then a familiar raspy voice, with a calm accent spoke in his head: 'come in'.

Professor sat in front of the large window, absorbing all of the sunlight. Ororo's happiness expressed itself in a delight: the sun barely left the sky after the reunion of two sisters; of course, sometimes the days were rainy, in order for the earth to regain strength from golden sunshine's influence. The dust flew from one bookshelf to another in the large room, becoming the stars it. This picture transferred the tranquility that was searched for.

"I sense that something is bothering you, Logan?" Charles turned his head to Logan and offered him to rest in the brown-leathered armchair with his inviting gaze.

Logan nodded, as he sat down.

"It's just... That lately..." He scratched the back of his neck, not even knowing where to start, leaning his elbows against knees. He wasn't used to opening up to anyone, not even to someone as wise as the professor. He sighed heavily, regretting his choice to come here already.

"Take your time." Charles interrupted his thoughts, recognizing how hard it must be for Logan to show his true emotions.

The silence that provided comfort at first soon enough became too loud to handle, squealing in his ears. Logan rubbed his palms together, nervously stroking the harsh skin. The intensity of professor's stare into his soul made him search for a way of how to open up faster: how to destroy the walls that were ready to break. All he needed was a little push and so, he leaped into the unknown.

"I don't know what's gotten into me... I want to run away for some time. From everything." Logan spat out those words in a single breath.

"And why is that?" Charles rolled his wheelchair closer to get a better sight of Logan's pained face.

"I feel like I've matters worse here."

"Nonsense, you have made our future brighter. You us helped to conquer heavy tasks, have you not?"

"But maybe they happened, because I was there. It feels like wherever I'd go, somethin' horrible might happen..."

"However, all goes well each time, because you know how to stop it, do you not?"

"Not like I have a choice to stand back. I just think that everything was better before I got here. I don't wanna' cause trouble or somethin'."

"And you are a gift to us, Logan, not a burden."

"How can I be a gift to y'all, when all I do is ruin things?"

Charles chuckled while the sunrays danced in his eyes.

"My students have always had their own personal struggles and the same doubts as your own. The fate of a mutant is to feel that you might become dangerous to those around you. You know how to control your gift, but you do not understand how to propel the danger that comes into your life, your bubble, from the outside world. Logan, you are no danger to us, our lives are already in danger each time we try to prove the world that this cycle of abuse is wrong. You happened to be in the process and yet helped to overcome those hardships. All has happened not because you are here with us; it happened, because you are here with us. But I believe that your concerns grew after the events with Jean, am I right?"

Logan huffed, hanging his head lowly. A reflex kicked in: a hand lowering to his pocket, searching for a cigar, but he forgot that professor sat in front of him with a warning look written all over his face.

"You are driven by your impulses, Logan, desires and secret wishes. It is only natural to act in such a manner, but we must control ourselves at all costs, as self-restrain may provide us a brighter path to our destiny. Though I cannot interfere with your relationships and your hopes of the future, as I do not have such a right to do so, but I want to give you an advice, because I care for you. You are dear to me, Logan, so allow me to speak further," Charles drew closer to the armchair where Logan sat silently and took his hand, making him look up. It felt like Charles was older than Logan, like a father, even though it was quite the opposite. "I believe that you can now see that Jean is not meant for you, as she has chosen another. Love is a strange thing, I know it from my experience, but you must not be blind to everything else in life. If she is not destined to be with, it does not mean the end of your world. There is so much more to your life, so please: explore it. Find peace with your friends, find joy in the outside world that is awaiting for you and move on from your heartaches, as they cannot change a thing. Furthermore, have you not seen more women that would even outshine Jean in your life? You deserve to be a first option for someone, not a second one. Find someone who will appreciate you, celebrate you and choose you firstly, even if you would not be the best option. Silly, is it not? However, I believe that someone in this world could understand you better than Jean. Yes, she has helped you to witness a glimpse of your past and discover yourself, but she will never help you to understand yourself better. Give love a second chance and be sure: you can find someone better in your life. I truly love Jean as my own, but I know her far more than you do and I understand that only Scott can be her equal. You are far from that, Logan, and that is not considered a bad thing, because you all are different. You must find the puzzle piece that will fit you in life. If you must travel, then go and rest, but please know that you are more than welcome here. You are a part of our big family and we shall always celebrate your existence."

Logan listened to Charles patiently, forgetting to breathe at times or to blink. Silence covered the both of them. He was in awe of professor's words, feeling inspired, even motivated, as demons retreated from the back of the mind. His chest still felt a pang here and there, but it was far better than before. A soft, relieved smile drew his lips up, as Xavier looked divine in the gleaming sunlight, shinning behind him and over his figure. Logan couldn't understand where his wisdom came from and felt the irony on his tongue since he was far older, but surely stupider.

"Did I do a good job?" Charles laughed to a certain extent, breaking the long pause.

"As always, Chuck. As always."

"Good, now go, I have to prepare for a class with Miss Loren." Charles turned around immediately and strolled towards the chalkboard.

"So she's a teach' as well?" Logan spoke up again and he slowly stood up from the comfortable armchair. "Oh, about her... Did you tell her of what happened?"

"Yes, but I can sense that Scott made an impact on her, with his revenge taken upon you." Charles took the chalks from the desk, masking his fingers with the white powder, and dragged his hand up and down, drawing lines and figures in order to explain some sort of laws of physics to his students. "Therefore, it makes sense why the two of you had an argument yesterday."

"How'd you know?"

"I know everything, Logan," Charles chuckled, as if it should be obvious already. "You must understand that I hear all heartaches and complains of one another. Every week. Even though you all are adults, sometimes you act as children and I suppose that someone has to take the role of a parent, no? Well, Loren came today just before you, and I have done my best to prove her my point, that her prejudice against you is more than wrong. Give her some time to rethink. She is a remarkable woman, but sometimes a sense of pride can overshine her inner beauty. Please, be sure that she is not against you. Loren has strong principles and follows them by heart, but someone must remind her from time to time that there is more to the surface."

"You took my words from yesterday..." Logan pointed his finger at the professor's back with a tiny grin.

"Those are wise words. I can learn something from you too," Charles turned back, with an audible snicker escaping his slim lips. "Now, be gone. I need to prepare for the upcoming class."

Logan drew his hand up to express his farewells and walked out of the office. A glimpse of hope shone inside of him, leaving space for new beginning.

[smolvenger]

❤️Happy Birthday ❤️

🎉🎉🎉I hope you have a wonderful day 🎉🎉🎉

Please can I request a little blurb with Prince Hal and "touch her and you die" 😻😻😻

Thank you!

Why hello there! Thanks, I got a manicure and went to a bookshop and ate Italian food so it was great! And here is the blurb!

Rain Within Doors (Prince Hal x fem! Reader)

Summary: When the king falls ill, your betrothed, Prince Hal, returns.

Word Count: 1923

Warnings: some sexual harassment but the a-hole is saved in time, I try to keep it close to Shakespeare. Angst and fluff. I stole a line from Game of Thrones because it fit (the Shakespeare histories WERE kind of the Game of Thrones of their time minus the dragons and excessive exploitation of women)

A03//My Ko-Fi//My Etsy Shop//Masterlist//Wattpad

Taglist: @asgards-princess-of-mischief @jennyggggrrr @five-miles-over @fictive-sl0th @ladycamillewrites @villainousshakespeare @holdmytesseract @eleniblue @twhxhck @lokisgoodgirl @lovelysizzlingbluebird @raqnarokr @holymultiplefandomsbatman @michelleleewise @wolfsmom1 @cheekyscamp @mochie85 @fandxmslxt69 @skittslackoffilter @mischief2sarawr

You waited anxiously and eagerly for your dear betrothed. He needed to hurry here. Things had all turned for the worse. 

Poor King Henry the Fourth was one minute at a table with all of you The Lord of Westmoreland arrived delivering the news of success in battle against Hotspur’s followers attempting to usurp the king. Everyone gasped. The lords who allied with Henry the Fourth were there- the Lord of Harcourt, Sir John Blunt, and others, all drooped their shoulders in relief. You, the younger two princes Thomas and Humphrey, The Lord of Warwick, and the King all smiled. The king shakily rose to praise Westmoreland

…then suddenly he began wheezing and fainted. 

Everyone gasped. Humphrey and Warwick met them on the grounds to give aid to the old king. Little Thomas cried for his father and you put him, your soon-to-be brother-in-law, in a hug, rubbing his back. 

“It’s all right, you know these fits happen often,” Warwick assumed, ever the voice of peace.

As the king came to, he was supported up. You were among the party to help settle him into bed. He asked the crown be placed on the pillow next to him with a raspy voice. And for musicians to play in the next room. Everyone complied.

You knew your betrothed had business in London. Even if it was in a bad place, he assured you it was nothing involving anything criminal (or whores) and that he would be back. The second eldest, Thomas, was dealing with the rebels with forces of his own and was on his way back.

“My lord, let me sit with you, so you need not be alone,” you offered, gathering a chair.

You had been sent here to marry the notorious Prince of Wales. Though you were nervous in this new castle, King Henry the Fourth was gentle with you. He welcomed you with a smile and open arms. The man who already considered you a daughter-in-law in his heart and the other princes saw you as a sister. He would let you dine with him and even play a little dice game with the family, smiling at you. Warmth on the face of the aged Bolingbroke- the lord who, long ago,  won the favor of the people so much it broke him out of exile and then thrust him into the role of king unexpectedly. Once Henry Bolingbroke, christened Henry the Fourth, wore shining golden armor as he rode on a horse. Paraded through the city as people threw flower petals at him.

Now how…weak he was! A shell of himself! Hardly the proud golden king anymore!

He reached out for your hand and you accepted it.

“Why-dear lady, I thank you. To think a pearl may be thrown to swine… to think my Harry should of all men be your husband…” he wheezed.  

“My lord, you must know- your eldest son has not….treated me poorly.” 

You didn’t know him well- the beautiful, fiery, mischievous, wild prince Henry- or Harry as called by his friends or family. Or Hal as those thieves and whores so affectionately called him.

This was to be a marriage for alliance and station, not of affection. When you arrived, you expected a frivolous, drinking, philandering Baccus. But Hal…. he was kind to you. He always smiled at you and called you sweet names. He was rumored to spend time studying in libraries more than drinking. One time, he found a romantic poem, copied it on paper, and gave it to you as a lover’s token. It touched you- who knew how he would fare as king but you felt he would make at least a decent husband!

“Just rest my lord, please,” you asked. The king indeed settled.

You walked out to the hallway to face the others. They peeked in and soon saw his eyes were closed, but he was breathing. The musicians in the next room played such calm, nearly dreamlike melodies compared to the anxiety storming inside of your being. 

Soon enough, the king settled into a deep sleep. You smiled a little- poor Henry the Fourth was a notorious insomniac, wandering the castle in the late hours from his racing worries. That should give him some relief and help with his sickness. 

But to think…here you were about to watch that old man die. Die before you could officially call him family.  

A couple of tears fell, and you walked out to the hallway staring out. It was a cold, bitter day. The winter chill stinging the glass window when you touched it.

But there was a sound- hooves.

When you leaned closer to the window, you let out a gasp. 

Hal was here in a long, beautiful black and red cape on a beautiful black horse as if he were about to rescue a damsel. And behind him a couple of others. You covered your mouth but felt a smile on your lips.

Picking up your skirts, you hurried down to the others in the outer hall. Warwick was hushing the two boys from talking too loud, to watch over the king in his sleep. 

“Humphrey! Thomas! He’s back!” you whispered.

“Who?” replied Thomas. 

They turned and then heard Hal’s voice asking for him. You and the others hurried there.

In the torch-lit hallway, your eyes feasted on Hal. The most beautiful man you had ever seen with the most deliciously fitted black velvet doublet, swooping off his cape with a gallantry that made your insides tingle.

He turned and went to you first.

“How now, My most fair lady?”

“Oh, much worried but cheered by your return, my lord,” you replied.

Hal’s eyes softened at you, then he looked at his crying brothers- Humphrey and Thomas.

“What- all of this rain in of door when it should be out of doors? How is the king?” Hal asked.

“ Exceeding ill” explained Humphrey sadly.

“Please be quiet, His grace is asleep,” warned the Lord of Warwick. 

Hal requested to see his father, and the lord of Warwick led him to the bed.

Everyone hushed and walked out to the other room, keeping quiet to give the king as much rest as he needed. Everyone worried. It was all so much- you needed some space.

With your heart calming, you went to one hallway, hugging yourself to look at how the moon shone over the winter evening through the windows. 

The Lord Harcourt went up to you. An older man with sharp cheekbones and a sharp chin, a pale face, and dark eyes. You only knew him as an ally and advisor to the king.  As you stood alone, staring out the window.

“Good evening, Lady Y/N.” he greeted.

“Good evening, my lord,” you replied. 

“You do look rather lovely tonight in the moonlight,” he complimented.

Already you felt uneasy. Alone with him, when all the others were fretting over the king. You began to take a step to return.

“You…you flatter me, my lord, thank you.”

Right as you turned, the lord reached an arm from his rich, velvet clothes and grabbed you.

“It seems a shame for such a fine lady to be wasted upon riotous Harry. I should have had you for my wife instead.”

“My lord, then wait until the king awakens and discuss it with him and announce you will-will-will court me openly like a gentleman,” you blubbered out, though you were starting to get scared.

He tried to sweetly, seductively brush your cheek but you had enough and swatted it away.

“Oh! The lady is a bit too cold, methinks.”

“And a lady is treated with respect, sir! My lord, please let me go.  I must attend on his majesty.”

“Your drunken oaf of an intended is waiting on him, who is going to stop!”

“But you are a fool! Please, let me leave!”

He backed you up until you were in a corner. Your heart pounded hard.

“Please- my lord, I swear, do not do anything that might insult my honor! I don’t want to-Please!” you cried.

“Then be not so fair and tempt a man to sin! And you have tempted me long enough. The one crown Prince Hal is deserving of is the Cuckhold’s horns.”

“Please, my lord- let me go!” you begged. 

To your horror, you felt a thin, clawlike hand reach for your leg under your skirt, then up, trying to lower your bodice to show your breasts. You squirmed, but one arm held you back.

“No, my lady. I want a see what I could be enjoying on our wedding night.”

He placed a hand over your mouth so you couldn’t scream. Tears welled up in you. 

With a free hand, though it shook, you slapped him hard. 

His hand dropped. He was shocked you were going to fight back. You tried to flee when he grabbed you back, ready to drag you off and force you to strip or do more when-

“Release yourself from the Princess of Wales right now!” threatened your intended.

Hal hurried in and grabbed the lord. He then took out his dagger, pointing it to your attacker’s chest. You jumped off and went behind Hal.

“What- my lord!” the lord was shocked that dishonorable, silly Prince Hal was capable of this. Then he scoffed. 

“She is not yet your wife-” he argued. 

“She is your princess and soon- your queen!” Hal reminded him.

The Lord of Harcourt pointed to where you stood and backed away behind Hal.

“She’s-she was trying to seduce me! The Lady is nothing but a common strumpet”

Hal punched him in the face. You let out a gasp. The Lord nursed his cheek. But Hal kept his dagger up at him. You heard footsteps and murmurs as the others went into the room. The younger Lancaster brothers staying by you loyally. The lords turned pale and slack-jawed.

“You are not welcome in this court until after our marriage. And then you will have to beg to be let in. And If you ever lay a hand on that sweet lady again, it will be the last time you have hands!” Hal barked at him.

The Lord of Harcourt shook and then relented, bowing his head. 

“Now, flee. Before I decide to persuade my father to behead you when he awakes.”

The lord fled into the shadows, a few attendants seeing him out. The others asked after you, but it was Hal who boldly embraced you. It was quite intimate for court protocol, but when had Hal ever done what everyone expected?

 “He-He frightened me.” you choked out.

“You need not be frightened, my lady, you’ll be safe. Did he hurt you? Do anything?” Hal questioned.

“He groped my leg, and tried to take my dress off, but no more. You caught him before more could be done. I-I -I promise you, Hal, I never intended to seduce him in any way! Do you believe me?”

Hal clasped your hands in his.

“Why would I not believe my dearest lady?” Hal replied.

Full of emotion, you leaned down and kissed them. Hal’s mouth opened a little and he smiled at you. He cupped your cheek sweetly. 

The party returned to wait on the king. You saw Hal was pale, but you kept your hand clasped in his as you walked back.

For as uncertain as this time was, no matter what the next day or hour could bring, you had each other and could endure it side by side.

[holocene-sims]

next // previous

august 25, 2021 8:00 p.m. the black pearl

[grant] well, i know it doesn’t fix the existential angst and you shouldn’t ever feel like it needs to go away instantly, but i guarantee you will be a good dad.

[grant] any kids you have will feel loved. they’ll be set up for the future no matter how everyone’s lives play out. i know you’ll do your best, and i know soobin will, too. you guys have worked so hard to have such a long and healthy and sincere relationship.

[grant] and the fact that you’re worried about any of this means you’re going to do a good job. shitty parents and shitty partners don’t ask if what they’re doing or about to do is wrong.

[grant] everyone is going to make mistakes sometimes but it’s about getting most of it right, and i believe you will. soobin doesn’t hold it over your head that for a while, your fear made you a little controlling. you improved and she forgave you. you’re smart, you’ll adapt, and most of all, you should know you’re loyal. at the end of the day, a parent who puts their kids first and never turns their back on them is the best parent in the world in my eyes.

[grant] mistakes can be forgiven if you put your kids first and treat them like a human being who matters.

[henry] thank you. i appreciate it. that means a lot coming from you.

[grant] and i understand your main fear in the first place. i've thought about it many times. i never worried about myself dying but others dying. elizabeth, uh...yeah. those big family losses seriously will ruin you forever in one way or another. the way you lost your father only makes it worse. it does strip away any feeling of invincibility you have.

[henry] you can say that again.

[henry] i'm glad someone understands.

[grant] you can never really know, i guess, what’s going to happen to you or to anyone you know, and it’s not helpful to say it’ll be fine because we all know crazy and terrible things happen. it's unfortunately mathematically true. but trust me, i'll kill you if you die!

[henry] you’ll kill me if i die? haha.

[henry] thanks for making me laugh, too.

[grant] yep. i will re-kill your ghost.

[henry] i'll kill you if you die.

[grant] thank you, buddy! you’re a real one.

[henry] dude, ugh, i googled life insurance policies a month ago. ew, adulthood.

[grant] life insurance is a good thing to have, though.

[henry] it is, it is. even if my hypothetical kids just buy a fucking pool with the money.

[grant] i mean, if it benefits them, right?

[henry] let me add a note to the policy saying you can either get an in-ground pool put in or free college tuition–one or the other.

[grant] does that include getting a sick ass waterfall feature installed on the pool or no?

[henry] by the way–

[henry] disclaimer that this is just an idea, not concrete at all, but soobin and i briefly mentioned moving back to korea as a way to make sure our kids have a good life.

[grant] wow, really? it is worth thinking about! it is rational. most of your family is here and all of soobin’s family does live here, and you do have to consider what’s best for you and your family, current and future. before i did move back home, when i was with you know who, i thought about this, too, if we ever had kids that maybe we could or should move back to michigan so they'd have my whole family around.

[grant] and just so it’s on the record, you have my full support in any decision here.

[grant] are you interested in moving back?

[henry] i don’t know. i haven’t lived here since i was five years old. i've only visited, and then came back for one year to do the military service because i was wary of giving up my citizenship. but i almost did because truly, i did not want to go into the army. that shit sucked.

[grant] what does soobin think?

[henry] well, it was her idea. i'm very whatever about wherever i live. i feel no strong pull one way or another at the moment. but it’s different for her.

[henry] she lived here much longer than me. she cares much more and has a preference. i mean, she spent pretty much her entire life here except since college and during the school semesters between sixth and twelfth grades because her parents sent her to a fancy private school there.

[henry] i will say, soobin’s main point isn’t wrong, and it's the one you brought up. most of our family is here. it’s like you and michigan. that’s where your folks are. and that support is invaluable when you have kids, both for their social development and for financial reasons. plus, my mom actually wants to move back. she never talks about it, but i know she does.

[grant] i get that, too.

[henry] like i said, she’s just never been the same since my dad died. which i don't fault her for. she does her best to be happy, you know, but i think she feels very alone, even more now that i don’t live on the upper peninsula anymore. she was with him forever. they were soulmates. and her life drastically changed after he died.

[henry] this has been the first time she's had a job since, god, the 1980s. she loves being an art teacher for school kids, but that's a huge change in addition to the sudden loneliness.

[henry] and on the loneliness side, she has your family and they've been close for a long time.

[grant] she was literally over at my aunt bridie's house the other day making shampoo with her.

[henry] yeah, so she sees them pretty often and she also has her book club and some other friends, but she knows way more people here. seoul's where all her family and friends are.

[henry] i want my mom to be happy, you know? it’s my job as her son, and i'm the only child she ever had. she doesn’t need me to look after her every day, not really, but i want to and she deserves that. and truth be told, a part of me believes that if she comes back, i would feel not very good about being away from her.

[henry] i think that if i encourage her to come back or talk to her about it and she does go through with it, that would sway me more to soobin’s side. again, i want my mom to be happy, and i'm also scared of losing her. it doesn’t matter if it’s sudden or slow. i don’t want to lose her, and especially not if i feel like i've spent my whole adult life away from her, not prioritizing what time is left with her.

[henry] not to be morbid, but she’s almost 60. at some point you do ask yourself how much longer you have left with your older family members around. life is unfortunately very short.

[grant] of course. that’s totally understandable. she's a great mother, and you wouldn't want to miss out on that. and i'm sure you don’t want your kids to not have their grandma present in their lives.

[henry] but then i have to start over with my job and maybe i lose contact with my friends if i leave. i do have friends here–sorry, they weren’t able to come hang out this time, maybe next time–but my real two best friends are in michigan. it’s you and ben. i don't let anyone else get that close to me except for soobin because to me, my best friend slots are full. i don't want anyone else. no one else is worth it.

[henry] and i always said you’d be my kids’ godfather. i don’t want them to miss out on knowing you the way they should.

[grant] there’s facetime! and i'd come visit. and i'm so goddamn annoying, i will be texting you about everything i think about in the world for the rest of our lives. you're not going to lose me.

[henry] i try my best to believe i won't lose you.

[grant] also, don’t stress out too much about this yet. you do not have to make any of these decisions now, and when you do need to, the right answers will come to you.

[grant] and listen, one last thing and then i'll shut up. i don’t know how, i don’t know why–i don’t think there is an answer to this–but the people we lose are still with us, even if only in spirit. i am famously a skeptic, but i felt something this year that changed my mind. i know you miss your dad but he’s still with you. somehow he’ll see your kids grow up, and he’ll be there guiding you to make the right decisions.

[grant] your dad loved you, like, beyond what words can express. he loved your mom just as much. he would never willingly leave you. if there's something after this mortal existence, he's still with you.

[grant] oh, and we should probably eat this pizza before it's frigid.

[henry] fuck, i forgot about it. thanks for reminding me. yeah, let's demolish this pizza, and then i'll take you to that cool arcade i told you about. we'll make up for the awful arcade experience at your cousin's bachelor party.

[ladymoody]

INTRODUCTION♡︎

visit my website for further information! → here

Ⱄⱄ. .ⱄⰔ by Kiki Ⱄⱄ. .ⱄⰔ ~ my ig account 🦢

WHAT YOU NEED TO KNOW ABOUT ME:

• I’m 17 (she/her)

• gemini ☉ taurus ☾ virgo ↑

• my favorite movies are: evil dead (2013), the maze runner (the death cure), split - girl, interrupted - 8 mile, marrowbone, harry potter and the half blood prince, black swan, priscilla, lights out, the corpse bride, the shining, the crow, pearl

• my favorite tv shows/series are: skins, american horror story, the queen’s gambit

WHAT YOU WILL FIND ON MY BLOG:

• reposts

• opinions/thoughts

• matchups

• FANFICS about the following fandoms (+ characters I’m willing to write about)

- skins → effy stonem, james cook, freddie mcclair , jj, sid jenkins, tony stonem, maxxie oliver, rich hardbeck

- american horror story → tate langdon, kit walker, kyle spencer, kai anderson , dandy mott, tristian duffy, harry gardner, moira o’ hara, elizabeth, michael langdon

- the maze runner → thomas, newt, minho, gally, teresa, brenda

- harry potter → draco malfoy, tom riddle, blaise zabini, remus lupin, sirius black, ron weasley, fred & george weasley, bellatrix lestrange

+ the fancast → mattheo riddle (benjamin wadsworth), lorenzo berkshire (louis partridge), theodore nott (lorenzo zurzolo), regulus black (timothée chalamet), young james potter (aaron taylor-johnson), young remus lupin (andrew garfield), young sirius black (ben barnes)

- shameless → carl gallagher, ian gallagher, kevin ball

- stranger things → billy hargrove, steve harrington, jim hopper, robin buckley, henry creel

SHIPS I COULD WRITE ABOUT:

- drarry, dramione, wolfstar (harry potter)

- mike & will (stranger things)

- newtmas (the maze runner)

ABOUT MY FANFICS:

- LGBTQ+ 🏳️‍🌈

- female reader (y/n) only (or gender fluid/non-binary)

- fluffy, angst, flirty/suggestive, smut (please specify this in your requests!)

↓ ↓ EXTRA! ↓ ↓

if you enjoy my writing you can ask me to write customizable stories for you. I’ll need your information (which you can write in your request) and I’ll write the fanfic! remember that the more information I get, the more detailed and interesting the story will be! (you can find all the steps on my website).

REQUESTS ARE OPEN!

feel free to ask me whatever you want, even if your character is not on the list or doesn’t belong to any fandom I listed in here. remember that I may always consider your requests♡︎. XOXO

I am following everyone back and I'll support your blogs. feel free to send me your posts.

- Kiki

[pastara-cell]

FAVOURITE AU IDEA AAAA DAY 17 IVE BEEN WAITING IVE BEEN WAITING IVE BEEN WAITING I HAVE TWO ANSWERS BUT I’LL DO TWO SEPERATE POSTS BECAUSE IF I DO BOTH OF THEM IN THE SAME POST YOU’LL BE READING AN ENTIRE FIC AT THAT POINT

PART 1 (Double Life Au)

—————-

Okay so, This is sorta similar to yesterdays thing, and also, I’ve literally posted about this, but now that I have my medication, i can ACTUALLY write it. TMF DOUBLE LIFE AU- Okay okay wait wait lemme recap then I’ll go into detail, because I dont want this to be a complete restatement of my older post, as its been more fleshed out since then.

So, for a recap, if you dont know what double life is, them it’s essentially the 3rd season in a mcyt series called ���the life series/traffic life”. In this season, people are paired up with anothet person, their soulmate, and they take damage when the other person takes damage.

However, with that being the canon, many different headcanons and fan conceps have popped up for it, such as feeling everything your soulmate feels (Physically and mentally). I’ll only give one example because there are physically so many that i’d be here all day talking about them.

I would also like to take a second to say that i’m a firm truther in the fact that double life is an allegory for the fact that you cant be forced until love. Also, remember that soulmates can be platonic or romantic, or sometimes even enemies! (Not like im gonna make zailey soulmates, they could be platonic but Its just not my thing)

So what I proposed is that we take the tmf guys, and we throw them into the double life universe! This au was just a thought at that point, but I have it mostly mapped out now! So, heres a lil thing showing all the pairs ^^ (what no, I didn’t steal half these screencaps from rosypenguins and the tmf suffering bracket…LIESSS/silly)

(The letters to the side stand for what the pair is. R means romantic, p means platonic, q means QPR, and c means complicated)

Now im not gonna sit here and go over each pair, however, i’ll dump some headcanons for the au!! (If you end up using this au, which i totally dont mind, please change anything you want!)

————

-The reason Drean is a confusing pair is because they dont know eachother, or atleast, not well. They’d probably not know how to properly talk to eachother at first. I could see this going from not knowing eachother, to platonic, to romantic, but any way works and they’ll be able to be interpreted as romantic or platonic

-Staisy QPR because yes.

-ran out of people to pair up, and decided “huh, okay then, sadie and maria” and tbh, why not. New rarepair. They go from mild dislike to loving eachother practically as soon as they bond.

-all the pairings in this are based upon canon friendships, my personal headcanons, and whatever I felt like putting together.

-Lia and Zoey are NOT friends in this au, well atleast not anymore. But they’re stuck together.

-Hailey and milly cause i need to see them interact more

-Milly and Elliot totally do a secret soulmate thing, like bigb and grian, but are super awkward about it. Hailey and jake know, and they think it’s hilarious

—————

Enough about the pairings, au facts time!!

-Drew is a past watcher. Take that as you will with your own watcher lore ^^

-Sadie is a listener, also take that as you will with your lore.

-Because I can and Because I will, Liam and henry live in the “relation-ship”. They’re the boat boys. No other pairing lives in the same houses as the original mcyts, Just those two.

-green, yellow, and red lives still exist. Yes they can die. Yes, my friends, this does mean angst.

-Will take place in the terrain of the double life map. Only things that are missing are the structures that were built by the mcyts, the cake does not exist, nor does pearl’s tower or anything. The relation-ship is there but thats an exception.

Mayyy update this, part 2 with my othet au may come out today or tomorrow, depends on how lomg it’ll take me to do stuff. ^^

[firstprince-ao3feed]

What Spring does with the Cherry Trees

by Djokodal_Fan My words rained over you, stroking you. For a long time have I loved the sunned mother-of-pearl of your body. I go so far as to think that you own the universe. I will bring you happy flowers from the mountains, bluebells, dark hazels, and rustic baskets of kisses. I want to do with you what spring does with the cherry trees. --- Pablo Neruda Or, the one where Henry is June's best friend from their preschool days, and has therefore been an integral part of Alex's life from the time they were both kids. Alex has always valued Henry's warm presence; so much so that it's difficult for him to pinpoint exactly when his emotions for Henry started running deeper. But as he finds himself falling more and more for Henry, he feels a complex maze of emotions at the excited buzz in their high school - that Henry and June make the perfect couple. Alex adores his sister, but he can't help feeling a bit resentful and upset at the thought that Bug and Henry might get together. And what of Henry's own feelings - does he think of Alex merely as his best friend's younger brother, or does he feel something much, much more for Alex? Words: 4018, Chapters: 1/2, Language: English Fandoms: Red White & Royal Blue - Casey McQuiston, Red White & Royal Blue (2023) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Categories: M/M Characters: Alex Claremont-Diaz, Henry Fox-Mountchristen-Windsor, June Claremont-Diaz, Evan (Red White & Royal Blue) Relationships: Alex Claremont-Diaz/Henry Fox-Mountchristen-Windsor, Alex Claremont-Diaz & June Claremont-Diaz, June Claremont-Diaz & Henry Fox-Mountchristen-Windsor, June Claremont-Diaz/Evan Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Childhood Friends, Growing Up Together, Sister's Best Friend / Best Friend's Brother Pairing, 2 year age gap between Henry & Alex, Idiots in Love, Mutual Pining, Light Angst, Crush to love, Puppy Love to Love, infatuation to love, Falling In Love, Love Confessions, Slight Misunderstanding (resolved quickly), Alex Claremont-Diaz Loves Henry Fox-Mountchristen-Windsor, Henry Fox-Mountchristen-Windsor Loves Alex Claremont-Diaz, Discussions on Soulmates, Kinda/ Sorta Soulmates, Jealous Alex Claremont-Diaz, Alex gets jealous of Henry & June!, Alex thinks Henry and June are dating, But they're (obviously) not!, Evan is a bit of a jerk, June makes some impulsive decisions, Playing board games together, Henry Alex and June playing 'fake' scrabble together, Best Friends, henry and june are best friends, Yearning, Wuthering Heights References, Coming Out To Each Other, Fluff and Humor, Humor, Light Angst and Feels, Discussions on Intimacy via https://ift.tt/HDlZOFB

[everythingispirates]

Fic ask meme!

🍌⚡🍎

🍌 favorite funny quote from a wip

”Who are you?” he asked.

”I’m Captain Jack Sparrow,” Jack responded, and Henry immediately pulled his hand back and grabbed onto Elizabeth’s shirt. 

”My mummy’s the captain,” he said, his tone accusatory, and Elizabeth caught a split second of Jack looking like he was composing himself, trying not to laugh, before he nodded gravely. 

”My mistake entirely, I beg your pardon.”

⚡️ wild card: dealer’s choice of quote from a completed work

”And what about all that?” He motioned for them. ”Stolen as well, I presume?”

”Not in the slightest, I bought all of it.” Jack paused for a moment, then added. ”I did steal the money, though.”

🍎 favorite angst quote from a wip

Last she’d heard, her spies had told her too that Barbossa was in Europe. England, specifically, but she didn’t tell Jack that. They had also said that he wasn’t sailing the Pearl anymore. She didn’t tell Jack that either. Barbossa wouldn’t willingly give up the Pearl - he’d told her as much, last time they met in Shipwreck - so it wasn’t hard to guess what had happened. But she would let Jack figure that out on his own. 

[emmyrosee]

could you write something with bills characters reacting to him finding out that that your jealous of your best friend being in love, meanwhile he’s been there the whole time secretly being in love with you...

Break my heart why dontcha 🥺❤️

———

Axel was always pretty open with his feelings for you; while you never took them to heart, the constant ‘dates’ he would take you on meant something to him, and he wasn’t about to act like the didn’t.

But it didn’t matter to you. You saw it as nothing more. And Axel wasn’t going to force it to be anything more😔

Gordan goes through hell and high water to be there for you. Battles gods and monsters to keep you, the light of his life, separated from the absolute madness that is Gordan Merkel. His love for you, his adoration isn’t open and clear, but it is there.

And maybe that’s why it’s best if you don’t know his feelings. Maybe it’s best that you get mad at the circumstances and just let his heartbreak heal😞

Henry Pearl.. “the best boyfriend you’ve never had.” He’s your best friend, your confidant, your man, he’s so close to you that you can’t even tell the absolute love he has for you, how painfully, deeply, sickeningly in love with you he is.

But if it keeps you in his life... he’s not going to risk making it anything more😣

Mark doesn’t fall for anyone. Love is nothing more than this stupid excuse to waste money and time and emotions. It’s all superficial and bullshit to mark, and when you get hurt from all of your friends getting together, Mark is on your side, spending all his time getting you drunk and high, anything to numb the pain of heartbreak.

But what you fail to see is that your Mark’s exception to his ‘Fuck Love’ rule. Like hell he’s going to let you find out either😒

Mickey... the exact opposite of mark. He falls for everyone, it hurts. But you’re different. You know how he feels about you, but you’re unaware of the extent that he so clearly tries to show you. When you complain about never finding love, all mickey wants to do is hold you, smother you in kisses and confess his feelings.

But he never will. Because that’s not what you really need. He’s not what you really need😣

Roman knows better than to let anyone in his cold, dark heart. Everyone who does ends up destroyed. But not you. He won’t let it happen to you.

Fucking Roman nightly just to feel something, some form of relief from this hatred of yourself and love, only to then cum messily and cry as you polish off a cigarette next to him... it’s all he can safely offer you.

Being heart broken and used is better than being dead😖

On a lighter note The Kid has not one ounce of shame to just curl up in your lap and smother you in all the affections and sweet words he can offer. He admits his love for you on the daily, meaning every vowel that passes his pretty lips.

If you choose not to believe him... that’s on you.

[hecohansen31]

Soo my next wish is with our puppies Mickey and Henry Pearl. Maybe you could write something about them and number 1 from the angst list please? Thanks in advance my love.

WARNINGS: Bit of Angst, Insecurities, Poly-Relationship.

“No, I don’t want to say goodbye. Not now” mumbled softly Henry as he hugged you even tighter, and Mickey softly held his hand, since between you two he was the one that was shier in public and PDA of any kind made him uncomfortable.

And you were in a very populous place: the airport.

Henry had been discovered recently by a famous art curator, and he’d be staying in a bigger city for a month to promote his painting and would eventually set himself there, if everything went well.

You had all been having quite a hard time accepting.

It was thoroughly painful to see a partner go, although you and Mickey tried your best not to let anything appear in your face, for the Henry’s sake.

You couldn’t ruin his one chance for fame.

Although he, himself, wasn’t the one who felt at his best, even going as far as to say that he’d reject your job to stay closer to you, but both you and Mickey couldn’t just let your idiotic thief get away from such an opportunity.

‘… and they might not even hire me, it is a simple trial period…’ he had munched on his words, as you and Mickey listened to him, blubbering up about all the things that could go wrong ‘… I’ll for sure break everything…’.

You had then grabbed his scruffy cheeks, to stop him from overreacting, as Mickey had laid his head between his shoulders, hugging him from behind.

“Babe, you won’t mess this up, I am sure’ you had spoken steadily, as you had watched him in the eyes to make sure that the message reached him ‘… you are perfect for this job, they’ll simply love your paintings’.

‘But I am… dumb’ he had mumbled softly, as he leaned back to beam himself against Mickey’s warmth.

‘You are not dumb’.

‘I am a failure’.

‘You are not a failure, in any way, Mickey!’ you had replied immediately, as Mickey had gently kissed his lover’s cheek

‘… but…’ and he had been petrified by your convinced eyes.

‘No but, babe, you are never a failure to me and Mickey’.

“C’mon!” mumbled, bringing you back from memory lane, Mickey, as he raised his eyes to meet Henry’s “… or you’ll lose your airplane!”.

“… maybe I don’t want to get on there” mumbled Henry, dragging his feet across the floor, almost as a disgruntled child “… maybe I just want to spend time with you”.

“Don’t you think that we’d love nothing more, too?” you asked, softly, trying to hold back the tears, as your other hand joined Henry’s one “… but you’ll love this job, believe me”.

“But I’ll miss you a lot, guys!” he retorted, pushing himself closer to you both

“But we’ll visit you, soon” mumbled softly Mickey, as he tried to make himself as strong as you, but you could feel that he wanted nothing more than to beg him to stay.

But Henry Pearl would have been happy.

Even though both your hearts choked themselves on poor agony.

But one day you’d be together again.

[doll-r-t]

The Lost Pearl Part 8

Viking!Sy x reader

Part 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7,

Can also be found on ao3

TW: some angst and fluff

Masterlist

gif cred to owner

You woke up to your eyes feeling puffy and raw. Your head was pounding and your body exhausted. Your hair was still tightly pulled back. You could not bring yourself to unbind it. It had been a couple of days since Rosamund had gotten hurt. She still was pale and her body seemingly got smaller every day. She had not woken up yet and you started to lose hope. Cella stayed with her during the day as much as she cut while Syverson had taken to sleeping in the chair next to Rosamund’s bed. You would sit with her every time Cella had to do chores. You would move her legs and arms, recleaning and binding her wounds, and then read to her. Hoping the story was so interesting that she would wake up and look at you with her big green eyes wanting to know what happened next. But she did not. Sometimes at night when you could not sleep you would sneak into her room sitting on her bed watching her. You kept your hair back not unbinding it even for sleep. Beren would come once in the morning and once in the evening to check on her. Yet he could not say much. We needed her to wake up, this was the most important thing. She had already lost a lot of weight. Syverson seemed more frustrated with everything and his advisers tried to leave him alone as much as possible. You had not spoken to him and did not dare to seek out his company.            

You got up, quickly dressed, and made your way to Rosamund’s room. Cella hat to start her chores. But when you entered it was not Cella’s small smile that greeted you. It was the back of Syverson’s head. His arms resting on his knees. You were about to leave again when he spoke. “Stay. It does her good you being here.” He looked at you, dark circles under his eyes. You stepped slowly toward him. His beard was more unkempt than before and his clothing wrinkled, carelessly pulled on. You stepped up to the bed next to Syverson's chair. You did not know what to say to take his pain away. “She always ran off exploring, running around seeing wondering.” Syverson breathed in deeply his words coming out choked. “I should have protected her, send guards with her. But I wanted to give her the freedom and the feeling of safety that inside these walls nothing will happen to her.” You closed your eyes an ache in your chest. You could not soothe his pain but you laid an arm around his shoulders. He bowed his head, silent tears falling down his face. He clung to you pulling you closer towards him, his face buried in your chest, his arms surrounding your waist. You held him tightly while sobs racked his body. A single tear falls down your face. You started to softly sing quietly as if you were whispering. You sang about the story of Imon he was a man wandering the world in the dark ages, where nature like you knew now was non-existent. No woods, seas, or people. It is said he was one of the 5 original people. He dwelled in the midlands no one knew where it was, but many believed it was the City of Stones, due to its beauty. Imon came back to his family camp and found his father, mother, and sisters all dead. Killed by the dark creatures wandering in the shadows of the dark age. He wept and cried wandering the earth for many years. Hopeless, no home, no family. He was utterly alone. He fell to his knees begging for the creatures of shadows to take him, calling out for his father, mother, and sisters. The moon took pity on him, crying a tear. Out of it came a star. The star guided the man to a piece of land where the grass was green and the soil rich. He started building a home there. The star watched the man work, building different homes and trying to grow food to help other wandering people. She thought him a good man, a handsome man. But the star saw that he was still alone, saddened by this and her desire to be close to him, the star fell. She collided with the earth and the man ran to her, nature was growing around her body expanding more and more, like the green grass he had built his home on. Soon the entire earth was covered. He took her to his home and cared for her. He called her Lily, like the only flower he had ever seen. They both fell in love and soon welcomed their first child. With the earth being rich in nature and food more and more people survived and settled down. Soon small tribes started to exist. It is said that everyone originated from one of these tribes. But when she bore her third child the child was too sick and small. Lily cried for her daughter. Still covered in blood from birth and in pain, she walked to the place she fell and collided with the earth. Wishing for her mother the moon to take her back. But instead, where she fell she found a flower. It was black, sparkling silver only in the moonlight. She picked up the flower and went home. She brewed a tea out of it, it had a blue hue to it. She gave it to her daughter and once she drank it the child started to cry, her bones grew stronger and her heart strengthened. They named her Luna and her husband named the flower Moonlight after his daughter luna and the light of his life his wife.                             You stopped short, gasping for air. You pushed Syverson away taking his face in your hand. “Moonlight. Of course.” You ran out of the room, finishing the song did not matter. You ran to the wall, sprinting up the stairs as quickly as you could. You ignored the man rebuilding the parts of the wall. You pushed them away from the stone. You frantically looked at the stone trying to find what you had seen before. There in the shadow of a producing piece of rock was a black flower. You calmed your breathing down. You would only get one try. You could not destroy it. You climbed over the wall. The guards around you beg you to come back over again. One was sent to get Syverson. But you ignored everything. You held onto a rock with your right hand, stepping on a small ledge with both your feet, then let go of the wood wall completely. You shuffled along the wall slipping once in a while. Your pulse was racing, and your hands were sweaty. You were so close. Reaching out your hand you could almost get to it just a bit more. Syverson’s booming voice startled you for a moment. He had climbed over the wall too. You thought the guards would have a heart attack, lets's just hope Cella is not around to do the same or some might faint. He was almost by you, you could not let him take you back you needed the flower. You tried reaching for it again but it was too high up. “What in the Gods names are you doing?” Hissed Syverson. “Do you think you can give me a small boost?” “What? Y/N stop it right now. I don’t want you to end up like Rosamund, do you?” You turned to him, his eyes were wide, and his blue eyes seemed darker than normal. “Trust me. Do you not trust me?” He closed his eyes for a second, he looked at your eyes he had become so fond of. He gave you a nod. “You need to lift me a couple of inches.” He looked up trying to see what you were reaching for but he could not. He turned to you shuffling closer. “I will bend my knees you will put your foot on my thigh, and then just like we practiced before with the horse you will push yourself off the ground as hard as you can. Syverson had turned around pushing his back into the stone wall. He bent his knees holding you around the waist. You nodded to him and he started counting. “One, two, push.” You stood on his thighs, trying to keep balance. “I got you just do whatever you gotta do.”You concentrated on reaching the flower, plucking it carefully from the wall. “You will have to jump between my legs. Don’t worry I will hold you to me.” “I am not worried. I trust you.” You put the flower in your cleavage securing it between your breasts. You put both hands on each of Syverson’s shoulders and slid down between his legs. He kept his promise, keeping you close to him. You looked each other in the eyes, the last time you both were this close was when you helped him with his papers. “Can we go over the wall now again?” He asked in an almost amused voice. You could only nod. Syverson let you in front of him but stayed close in case you slipped.                                 Once you were over the wall again you turned to the guards. “You go tell the cook to heat up water. And you go tell Beren to come to Rosamund’s chambers we will need him.” You turned to Syverson “Come with me.” He followed you his eyebrows furrowed. “What the hell is going on Y/N?” You did not answer him just mumbled “no time.” Once you were almost in Rosamund’s chambers he grabbed your arm turning you around. “Y/N tell me at once what the hell that was back then.” You reached into your cleavage pulling out a black flower. “One question, you can see this right?” He looked still confused. “Yes, yes of course I can.” “Earlier when we were at the wall and I pointed at something you could not see it?” He shook his head. You smiled at him. “I think this is Moonlight.” Syverson let out a groan. His fingers pinch the bridge of his nose. “For Fucks sake Y/N. Moonlight are you serious? This is just a fairytale something we tell children.” You shook your head no. “No, it is not. I know it is not. I mean you could not see it earlier because it can only be seen by women in pain. Once I picked it you saw it.” “Or I was a bit busy trying not to fall off a cliff instead of looking at a stupid flower.” You tried again but Syverson was not having it. “Enough,” he yelled. You were shocked. “You have done more than enough, don’t you think?” You stepped back as if he had slapped you. He looked to the side trying to get his anger under control. “I have a meeting.” He walked away but before he could go too far you called after him. “Rosamund would have faith.” Syverson did not turn around after a moment he kept walking. You looked at the black flower starting to doubt yourself.                             Beren walked around the corner he looked at you in concern. “Has she woken?” You shook your head no. He looked at your hands and gasped. His eyes showed bewilderment. “Where did you get this child?” “I thought I saw it when Rosamund and I were at the wall but I had forgotten all about it when Rosamund got injured.” You both looked at each other for a couple of seconds. “You know what this is right?” He just nodded. “I already called for some hot water. Do you think it will save her?” “It just might, if she is still alive until we can give it to her.” It was your turn to frown. “It can only be made into tea under the moonlight when it turns silver.” You would have to wait for hours, and even then there was no guarantee that the moon was not covered by clouds.                                     Syverson had barricaded himself in his study yelling at everyone who disturbed him. You sat next to Rosamund holding Moonlight in your hand waiting for the sun to finally go down. “You just need to hold on a bit longer. Just a bit more, please. I know you are strong, a fighter like your family. As soon as you are well we will all go riding again and don’t forget I promised to teach you how to swim and I intend on keeping that promise.” The door creaked open and Cella came in with something to eat. “Here you have not eaten yet.” You forced yourself to take some bites but then put the tray aside. You had no appetite, not since Rosamund's accident. “Ocre told me what happened.” You nodded. “And my brother's yelling can be heard throughout Warhorse.” You nodded again still looking at Rosamund. “Is it true then?” She stepped closer. “You found Moonlight?” She reached for the flower in your hand but you instinctively held it further away from her as if you were trying to protect it. You looked at her in apology. Cella sat on the bed breathing in deeply. “What now?” “We need to wait until the moon rises then we need to brew it under the moonlight into a tea. She will have to drink it. And then-” You swallowed hard. “Then everything will be okay again,” you said softly. “You know I never saw her connect with someone the way you two did. She was always a shy kid when it came to talking to people but somehow not with you.” You thought back on the first time you talked with her and how timid she seemed at first. “She was always wild running around wanting to know everything. More than we could teach her. But she was never good at making friends.” You did not understand how someone would not want to be friends with Rosamund. She was such a wonderful child. Brave, smart, strong, funny, sweet, you could go on. “It does her good you being here.” You snorted, very unladylike. “Yes, and see where it got her.” “Y/N,” Cella sight, “I told you even without you she could have ended up here. She went to that place far too often.” You looked at your hands, wringing them. “Tell that to your brother,” you mumbled. She got up and walked to you laying an arm around you. “He was angry, and probably scared by what you did. He tends to show that he cares by being angry instead of just saying it. But I know he does not blame you either.” You did not believe her. You wished you did but the hurt you had felt at what he said was still burning in your chest. You began to doubt yourself. What if it truly was just a fairytale and it would not work? Were you fooling yourself and others into hoping? You could not help but let Syverson's words get to you.                                         Cella and you sat in silence until the sun started to go down. Beren came into the room. “It is time.” You both got up. Walking out of Warhorse and further up the mountain. You both carried arms full of firewood. Beren had a pot with water in his hands. Cella started the fire and you pulled out the flower from your cleavage looking at it. The moon was rising higher. You turned to it, begging it silently to give life to little Firefly, and if she demanded a sacrifice instead then you begged she take your life. You were so busy praying to the moon spirit to notice the dark figure making its way up the hill. “Brother?” You turned your head so quickly that something cracked. “What are you doing here?” Cella asked. Syverson had made his stand firmly known but here he was in a brown leather coat, a white tunic, and brown trousers. “Having faith.” He looked directly at you while saying it. You gave him a small smile and he nodded stepping closer to the fire. He stacked some more wood on it, making it higher. The water was slowly heating. “What now?” He asked Beren. “We need to wait for the water to boil, then the Princess will take the flower and hold it in the moonlight until it sparkles silver then we will brew it into tea and fill it into a cup bringing it to Rosamund.” Syverson nodded. For a while you all were silent until the water started to bubble slowly, you turned looking at the moon again. Some clouds were gathering but the moon still shone brightly. You hardly dared to breathe. You would only be able to breathe again when Rosamund would open her eyes. A hand on your shoulder grounded you in the present again. “It is time,” Beren whispered. Your hands shook, sending one last prayer you held the flower up. You waited but nothing happened. Suddenly a spark appeared then one more and more. The flower began to shine silver. Tears gathered at your eyes, a huff of breath leaving your body. You turned to the others. All were watching you with wide eyes. It looked like the moon was illuminating not only the flower but also you. Beren urged you to the boiling water. Your hand was still shaking. At once a big warm one covered yours. You looked up at Syverson, he gave your hand a squeeze. You both looked at each other portraying all your hopes and fears through your eyes, letting each other fully see one another for the first time. You both turned to the water again “One,” you whispered. “Two,” he whispered. Three you both said silently letting the flower go. You watched it slowly fall into the water. It sank down to the bottom only a blurred shine could still be seen. The water slowly stopped boiling and a blue hue settled in. The silver was completely gone. You looked at Beren for guidance. He stepped up pulling a mug out of his coat pocket. Syverson took it from him filling it with the tea. You carefully made your way down the hill entering through the secret garden you thought only you visited and entered the building. Syverson's grip was tight on the mug, he was trying to control his breathing but you saw the tension. You all stopped in front of the door. Each of you sending one more prayer. You entered the gathering around Rosamund. Cella lifted her head slightly opening her mouth. Syverson purred the tea into her mouth. You watched in anticipation time seemed to have halted. Rosamund’s chest rose in a deep breath. And at once her eyes sprung open. A gasp went through the room. “Rosamund? Rosamund?” Syverson kneeled next to her holding her hand. She turned to him. “Is it truly you? Are you truly awake?” She looked around the room in confusion. Beren sidestepped you putting a hand on Syverson's shoulder. “Give her a moment.” Rosamund looked at you “Y/N?” “I am here little Firefly.” “Why am I in my bed?” You looked at Syverson, asking for help. “You had an accident but you are going to be okay.” He said. The rumbling of Rosamund's stomach caught all of you off guard. She began to giggle, and Syverson laughed loudly. It was infectious and so you Cella and even Beren joined in. “I will inform the cook to make something for the Little Lady.” Beren walked to the door but you halted him. “No, please I will go.” You leaned into him. “Stay with her in case something happens, and check her over please.” You walked out of the room, your hand pressed against your stomach and your heart racing but this time in happiness. You were so relieved it made you almost dizzy. You blinked hot tears away, you really needed to start getting your emotions under control again.         Syverson had turned to see you go. He had been so angry with you earlier not wanting to have hope. If he had it and it was snatched from him he feared it would destroy him. He had hunched over his papers trying to work but all he could see were your notes and something tight settled into his chest. He was so conflicted and he did not know why. He had not noticed the sun going down but with the first moonlight, he remembered your words. He sprang up grabbed his coat and walked up the hill.                             Syverson continued to caress Rosamund's hand. Beren was checking her over, her head injury was as good as gone a small scar was left. It must have been the power of the flower. It had been a nasty open wound just an hour ago. He pulled up her tunic inspecting the place where she was pierced by the wood. It was almost healed, only a long scratch was still there. Cella explained to Rosamund what had happened. Tears filled her eyes. “I am sorry. I just wanted to show Y/N/N the flowers there.” “Hush little one,” Syverson said. He climbed onto the bed pulling her in his arms. “No one could have foreseen it. The wood was rotten, it is not your fault. But next time if you want to explore tell me beforehand and take a guard with you.” She buried her face into Syverson’s chest. “Okay, Sy-Sy.”             You came back with a bowl of soup. Syverson helped her sit up and put the tray on her lap. Beren had gone instructing Rosamund to rest after eating. No excitement. He would come by tomorrow but if something was the matter they should come to get him. You sat a bit further away watching Cella and Syverson sitting on each side of Rosamund. After she had eaten she quickly fell asleep again her body still weak. Cella and Syverson soon followed. You smiled at the sweet family. They truly cared for each other. It made you wonder if your brothers would do the same for you. It saddened you that you did not know the answer to that. You never realized just how distant your family was and all the others in court. Your people called the Woodland primitive but the more you saw of them the more you thought your people were the primitive. Like the people from the dark age, wandering around lost without tribes. The people here truly were a tribe caring for each other no matter if you were family or not. You put one more piece of wood into the fire and covered all of them with a quilt.                                                     You were exhausted but instead of returning to your room you went outside to the garden, it had become your favorite spot. You wandered for a bit, just bathing in moonlight thanking the moon spirit for giving you your little Firefly back. For the first time in ages, your mind was not racing. And breathing felt easier. You settled onto a bench. The air was cold but you did not want to go inside, even though your arms were covered in goosebumps. A snap alerted you to someone approaching but you felt no fear. Suddenly a coat was put onto your shoulders. It was warm and smelled of leather, fire, and manly musk. You pulled it tighter around you smelling it a bit more. It was one of the most pleasant smells. You turned toward the man, “Thank you, Captain.” He settled down next to you. “It should be me thanking you.” Syverson had woken when you covered him with the quilt, he had watched you go through half-closed eyes. He looked over at Rosamund and Cella both still asleep. He got up, feeling a pull to follow you. He made sure Rosamund was covered again kissed both his sister and niece on the forehead and went to your room. But you were not there. He pondered for a moment but then remembered he had seen you in the garden before. When he saw you shivering on a bench bathed in the light of the moon he thought you the most beautiful woman. Even though he could not see your face, he knew you were.        

    “No, you were right before if it had not been for me she would not have been hurt.” Syverson looked down in shame. “I am sorry. I should never have said that.” He turned to you and looked into your beautiful eyes. “I need you to know that I do not believe it for a second. I let my anger get the better of me.” He rubbed his head. “ A fault of mine. I am sorry for saying it, for hurting you. You saved her life, you climbed after her and then climbed the wall again to get the flower.” He stopped his heart pounding. “In truth, it was the bravest thing I had ever seen.” You looked at him in doubt. “You climbed up there too.” “But I had no faith, did not dare to hope out of fear of getting hurt. Yet, you-, you saw hope and you held onto it, it is the bravest thing.” His gaze was so intense you could not hold it for long, bowing your head a small smile appeared on your face. You had never been called brave by a man before. Most saw a helpless Princess, a beautiful face, someone to produce an heir but not Syverson. You both sat in silence for a while, your hands inching further towards each other. You did not know who did it but your hands intertwined themselves.              

  “My great grandfather built this garden for his wife. She was not from the Woodlands. She loved flowers and all things growing. My people were not fond of outsiders. I guess we still struggle with it. She had a hard time here. And she missed her flowers. He gave her this garden. A place all to herself, where she could be around the things she loved. Without being watched by people. My Uncle tried to keep up with its maintenance during his younger years but the war had no regard for simple things like flowers. So it became a garden of weeds, chaos, and unloved.” He pulled you up, you slowly walked through it while he told you about what kind of flowers would bloom where. He did not let go of your hand and you had no intention either. One single blue flower had resisted the season. Syverson plucked it, turning to you. “May I?” You nodded entranced by the man in front of you. He put the flower behind your ear trying not to touch your hair. But even if he did you did not care, not when he was so close, his smell surrounding you. “The garden had been neglected but it is still here, so come spring I will get a new chance to restore its beauty and treat it with care and love.” “I am sure it will look beautiful.” “Yes, yes it is.” Syverson said, looking at you, his gaze wandering to your lips. They looked so soft. Your heart rate started to pick up again, holding onto his hands, as if you tried to pull him to you. SNAP. You both stepped apart, your face feeling warm. You both turned to the noise trying to see who was there. A big grey cat came walking out of the bush. It walked past you, completely ignoring you as if you were not even here. It jumped onto a stature that stood there, it was a woman sitting with her hand in her lap holding flowers, the cat settled into the lap of the woman. “It seems not everyone has forgotten about the garden,” you giggled. Syverson let out a nervous chuckle, rubbing his head. “We should go back inside. It had been a long few days. And Beren told me you are still injured.” You were surprised Beren had informed Syverson about it. Syverson ignored your curious look not willing to inform you that he had insisted to be updated on your injuries daily. “You need rest, and after how you took care of Rosamund. Of all of us. I must insist I take care of you now.” The moon was bathing him in white light, highlighting his blue eyes, his soft pink lips, and oh Gods did that man ever wear his tunic properly without exposing his chest like this? You wondered if it was as soft as it looked. “As you wish, My Captain,” you breathed out. “So be it, My Princess,” he whispered back. He took your hand in his again. The warmth feels almost familiar by now. You both walked silently to your room. You turned to him trying to say thank you for walking you to your room but it got stuck in your throat. How did this man do this to you? Make you act impulsive, and emotional and stun you into silence. It is so unlike you. Syverson let go of your hand, and you already missed the warmth. He touched the flower behind your hair and let his finger caress your cheek. “Flowers suit you.” Before you could say anything he bowed slightly. “Good night.” He walked down the corridor, glancing back at you for a second before entering his room. 

Meaning of Blue Flowers A blue flower stands for desire, love, and inspiration. It is a flower that represents the metaphysical striving for the impossible and infinite.

Leave Comments please!!

Taglist: let me know if you want to be added or removed

@tumblnewby @irishprincess89​ @wheretheriversrunintothesea​ @amberangel112​ @sofiebstar​ @omgkatinka​ @enchantedbytomandhenry​ @snowbellexx @daddys-littlewhitegirl​ @pjkimrn​ @zealoushound​, @lunedelorient​, @tragicphoenix13​, @alexa-fangirl-forever​, @vhjlucky13​

[trustsalvatorewriting]

wasteland, baby! | kol mikaelson - chapter eight

Summary: Kol makes a deal with the Hollow to revive the first woman he ever loved. Unfortunately, it doesn’t go as planned.

Trust’s Note: Please like and reblog! I hope you enjoy.

Word Count: 2,473

Prologue | Chapter One | Chapter Two | Chapter Three | Chapter Four | Chapter Five | Chapter Six | Chapter Seven | Chapter Eight | Chapter Nine | Chapter Ten

_____________

❝ i hate all the hurt that you put me through, and that i blame myself for letting you ❞

HENRY PEARL RAN HIS FINGERS OVER THE GOLD WIRED RING, a soft but victorious smile on his face. The small, handmade ring glimmered in the light he'd hung above his desk. The night before, he'd gone to the nearest voodoo shop to purchase the smallest garnet stone, ignoring the sunrise as he immediately ran back home and into his bed. Admittedly, he'd been afraid that the ring wouldn't turn out the way he wanted; but Aniya had always looked so heartbroken whenever she looked at her own, and there was a part of him that couldn't bear to see that look on her face as often as he did.

    There was a part of him that believed she would never love him -- not in the way that he wanted her to -- and he wouldn't blame her, either. She looked like she could conquer the world with a movement of her wrist. She would want more out of the world and he would never be able to give it to her. She was beautiful, and extraordinary, and he was just a boy.

    Still, he had to admit he's been happy lately, and he'd wallowed in it selfishly. Henry knew in his heart that it wouldn't last very long, but the was all the more reason to enjoy it in the moment. A few days ago, Aniya told him she found him intriguing, and he told her 'we are only interested by things we don't understand.'

    Henry Pearl's eyes were big enough to take it all in: the world, Aniya, and himself. He could float through the sky and never come back down. He wouldn't need to.

    He set the complex -- yet beautiful -- garnet ring down on his desk, next to a photograph of he and his mother on her birthday, when Henry was only eight or nine years old. Colla Pearl had been a beautiful woman, with emerald green eyes and medium brown hair; though she hadn't been a healthy one. It was when Henry was thirteen that she became sick, and it was at fifteen that she died. Neither Henry nor his father had dealt with it properly.

    Frowning, he glanced up at the calendar, and it occurred to him that Colla's birthday would be in a few days. A sick feeling over came Henry, and it struck him that it would be eight years since her death.

    The twenty-one year old boy was pulled out his thoughts when he heard rumbling and music playing from the living room. Henry listened for a moment, hoping -- praying -- the music wasn't what he thought it was. When he heard a crash, he shut off his lamp and quickly made his way out of his closet-sized bedroom and down the hall. He was met with a low ringing noise to his left, where his father left the home phone hanging off the desk.

    He hesitated, but picked it up to his ear. A low buzz emitted from the phone, signalling that whoever his father had tried to call had hung up, and he carefully set it back down on the charger. As he proceeded down the hall, he looked to his left and noticed the empty bedroom that belonged to his father. The bedsheets had been jumbled together, and he'd left his night lamp on, as if he'd tried to get some rest but changed his mind all together. Underneath the bed was an empty six-pack of Coors Lite, and Henry grimaced at the sight.

    "Ja, må han leva! Ja, må han leva! Ja, må han leva uti hundrade år!" The Swedish song played throughout the home through a single DVD player. The birthday song mocked the atmosphere, and dread filled Henry's stomach as he realized why his father, William Pearl, had chosen to stay up so late: he'd believed it was Henry's mother's birthday.

    Sorrow crawled its way to Henry's throat, wrapping itself around his neck and squeezing as he reached to turn off the music. Henry's vision went glassy as silence filled the apartment once again, and he heard his father cursing him in the kitchen.

    "What the fuck? We're having a party, Henry!" William complained, rushing over to the player and restarting the track. "We're gonna have one hell of a party!"

    Henry's gaze flitted across the room as he struggled to keep eye contact with William. The fifty-year-old man was nearly nude, wearing only a pair of boxers as he opened a box of party supplies Henry had tried to hide in the attic. William dumped the box upside down on the wooden floors, and Christmas ornaments and streamers were sent flying across the living room.

    "Papa," Henry began. His throat went dry as an old ornament flew across the floor: a photo of he and his parents that they'd taken at the mall. "Papa, please stop."

    "Let's make it look nice, here at home," William declared, messily organizing the supplies into different piles. He made his way to the small kitchen table and Henry's new shipment of silverware onto the table. "Here, you set the table--"

    "Papa--" He tried again, taking a small step toward his father as he climbed onto the couch in an effort to hang a 'happy birthday' sign from the windows. For a moment, he wondered where William had gotten the money to purchase it; then it occurred to him that he left twenty dollars on the kitchen table every night in case of an emergency. Henry's throat tightened as he realized that his father had been impulsively spending the money on alcohol and useless decorations. It wasn't as though either of them celebrated holidays.

    "Here is her party, why aren't you happy? Don't you miss her?" William's tone changed as he looked back at Henry, his eyes reddened and crazed as he screamed, "Be happy, for fuck's sake!"

    When Henry's expression didn't shift, William reached for one of the plates Henry had bought and tossed it in his direction, screaming "here is her fucking party!"

    Henry felt pressure against his shoulder as the plate slammed against the right side of his body and fell to the hard ground. He watched as it shattered, and cringed, his expression shifting to one of helplessness. "Papa, please stop."

    "What?" William turned back to his son, a bright smile on his face as he walked forward, grabbing Henry's head with his hands and holding it against his own. His breath wreaked of alcohol and whatever he'd eaten in the past few weeks.

    Henry wrapped his arm around his father's shoulder and tried to lead him back down the hall. "Please, Papa, just go to bed. Come here."

    "I can't go to bed now!" He exclaimed, casually fighting off his son's grip and placing his dirtied hand on his already bruised cheek.

    The boy flinched away from his father's touch. "Let's go to bed, Papa, come on..."

    "But I'm arranging a dinner party for your mother," William argued, a dazed smile on his face. Henry would have sworn he was having a psychological break, but he supposed grief did that to people. William had lost his wife; it was only fitting that he acted this way. Still, the longer he acted like this, the easier it would be for William to hurt himself.

    Henry tried again, carefully reaching for his arms as he tried to walk him back to his room. He comforted, "You can do that tomorrow, c-can you come to bed now?"

   "No, I'm very busy making a birthday dinner for your mom, so the fucking cunt can finally be happy!"

    "Papa, calm down, let's go to bed--" The boy bargained, ignoring the icy feeling that grew in his chest. His father would always say cruel things during his episodes, especially about Henry's mother; but they still stung every time he said them.

    William shrugged off his son's grasp, walking into the small kitchen where a pot of potatoes and -- was that dirt? -- boiled over the stove. Henry reached for the pot while his father was distracted with pouring a bag full of potatoes into another pot. He held it over the sink and filled it with water in an attempt to wash out what mess William had made while Henry was busy.

    "What the fuck are you doing? Stop it!" His father cursed, snatching the pot from Henry's grasp and putting it back on the stove. Smoke rose from the burning potatoes, and the young boy did his best to wave them away from the detector and sprinklers. As his father threw random spices onto the food, he exclaimed, "I told you, we're having a party! Look, we're gonna eat potatoes and shit."

    The older man brushed long, gray locks from his face and reached to turn on everything on the stove, despite using only two pots filled to the brim with potatoes. William turned the nozzle and the oven lit up, as Henry took another step forward. "No. No, Papa, go to bed--"

    "Don't ruin the food, now!" William sneered. Henry gulped and reached to turn the stove off, but his hands were immediately grabbed by William. His father glared at him for a moment, raising his hand. A stinging sensation covered Henry's left cheek.

    "Please, Papa--"

    Slap.

   "C-Can't you j-j-just--"

    Slap.

    A sharp pain quickly formed below Henry's eye socket, a jarring feeling in his skull as William's fist connected with his son's cheek. A bruise began forming on Henry's face as he met eyes with his father again, a tired but pleading look in his eyes.

    "Why c-c-can't -- why c-can't you go t-to bed now, Papa? Please..." Tears fell from Henry's eyes, his hair disheveled and shoulders hunched forward as he looked into the eyes of his estranged father. He was met with a cold glare and reddened eyes. Henry swallowed, preparing for another hit, the left side of his face reddened and covered with tears.

    William nodded after a moment, his jaw clenched as he stared up at his son. "I was just trying to make some food and make things right." He cleared his throat and looked around the kitchen before taking a step toward Henry. "Move the fuck out of my way."

    Henry stepped to the side as William made his way back to his bedroom. He let out a low breath and walked toward the stove, turning off all of the nozzles and the oven, and tossing the pot of potatoes and gunk into the garbage. He thought for a moment, then unplugged the microwave and toaster as well. As Henry went to clean up the mess in the living room, he allowed himself to accept his reality.

    He would never be able to live in his apartment in the Quarter. It would be his -- overpriced -- art studio, and nothing more.

    A tear slipped from his eye as he made his way into the attic, where he had organized Colla's items into different boxes. Henry moved to look through her 'treasured items,' the ones that she'd kept close to her heart when she was alive. Dainty pieces of jewelry tangled together at the bottom of the box, next to an old journal. Henry's brows knitted together in curiosity as he reached for the small brown book.

    The pages were stained brown, implying that Colla had gone out of her way to dip them into tea. A chuckle left Henry's lips as he began to read her Swedish writings. After a few moments, he realized the book hadn't been her private journal, but a notebook, where she'd studied different and rare types of witchcraft.

    'Tyaag witches participate in several different rituals in order to achieve functional mortality. However, functional mortality is only offered to twins born with earth magic. Once achieved, the twins will be sacrificed on their eighteenth birthday. This will usually consist of a slit throat and a knife through the base of the skull, paralyzing and killing them.

    'The base of the skull is the fifth chakra, and the mouth of God. Three days after their death, the witch twins are resurrected. Unfortunately, the memory of their friends and loved ones is wiped completely of their existence. This is due to the fact that the witches are promised a new life; and therefore, their slate is wiped clean.

    'Tyaag rituals are notorious for failed resurrections, as if the children do not comply with the fifteen rituals they need to complete before their deaths, the sacrifice will fail, and they will remain in spiritual limbo for the rest of eternity.'

    Henry shut the book immediately, remembering the wound on Aniya's neck. He cleared his throat and shook his head, as if his memory were an etch-a-sketch. He glanced outside and noticed the faded sunlight, and realized he would be late for his double-shift at the diner if he didn't leave soon.

    He quickly reached for the wired ring and put it into a small white box, complete with a little ribbon. A smile made its way across his face as he quickly changed into his work uniform, all but giddy to see Aniya again.

    As he made his way out of the cramped apartment in downtown New Orleans, he caught a glimpse of his father drooling into his white satin pillows. Henry paused, then went into his room, pulling the duvet over the man's chubby body and tucking it over him. He quickly picked up the pack of alcohol on the floor and shut off the light in his bedroom with a final breath of relief. He grabbed his things and locked the door behind him, making his way to his old Jeep.

    Henry drove in peaceful silence, admiring the lights and music of the city before stopping at the dumpster behind the diner.

    It was there that he tossed his father's pack of alcohol and his mother's box of party supplies. It wasn't as if either of the items would ever do him good. He was exhausted, and no longer sure he would live to his twenty-eighth birthday.

    Frankly, he wasn't sure he wanted to.

________

i hope you guys enjoyed this chapter. i knew that henry needed to have his own chapter eventually, as he is just as complex as aniya and kol, with his own goals and ambitions outside of being the person who works in the restaurant. that being said, henry is based off martin from the swedish movie 'behind the lights' and henry pearl from 'battlecreek.' please comment and tell me what you think! - trust

[simple-skarsgard]

The Balcony Scene

Requested; no Prompt: Bill brings you away from the ledge. A/N: I’ve been working on requests, but have been extremely depressed lately and been wanting to write a piece like this as vent writing and I figured some of my followers may need this to. If you’re sad, I’m sorry. I hope this piece helps you in any way and brings you some comfort and I’m glad you’re alive to read this. Keep fighting my lovelies.  Warning: Suicide Attempt, Mentions of self harm (It has a happy ending, but I am in no way romanticizing mental illness. I just used this to make myself feel okay and anyone who can relate.)

It was cold. The night was beautiful, but so sad. It’s bitter winds biting into your warm, flushed, tear-stained cheeks as your eyes looked over every midnight city light adorning the buildings all around you.

You were sat on the cold concrete edge of the balcony to yours and Bill’s current hotel room. Despite being wrapped in a robe and having easy access to the warmth of a coat in your luggage, you remained planted there. The gentle breeze caressing your loose hair, making you occasionally tuck it behind the curve of your ear.

The night may have been quiet..calm.. still.. but it was anything but peaceful. Not within the emptiness aching in your chest or the thoughts endlessly stuck on loop with thoughts you’d much rather not have welcomed if you had a choice in the matter. 

Looking down between your legs to the far beneath busy streets that were twenty floors under you, you were wondering what it would feel like just to let go. 

No. You would never..

Your hands tighten around the fabric of your robe before letting go to grip the edge, daring yourself to scoot closer just to have a better look..

Just leaning in further made your heart race, palms begin to sweat and fingertips tremble.

You close your eyes and take a shaky breath before reaching over to the nearly empty bottle of vodka to your right. Tilting it back to your lips you take a long drink, feeling the fire run down the back of your throat and the stinging sensation followed in your chest and depths of your tummy. It made you numb  to the coolness surrounding you with the exception of it running over the wetness of your cheeks being the only reminder that no amount of warmth brought by alcohol- or anything of that matter- could warm the coldness inside you.

Bill made you happy, so happy that you’d actually learned to love and let yourself be loved. He’d been such a big help in your last few years together in maintaining your mental health the best he possibly could from where he stood. He was always looking to make sure you were okay, offered anything to make you feel better. Whether it ranged from candies and sweets to love making to crying yourself to sleep in his arms.

A lot of the time you felt you didn’t deserve such an amazing man, but hell you had him and were grateful and felt lucky to have found a love people only believe existed in movies or books.

He’d been such a big help in your recovery, but recently the thoughts were starting to come back. Things were starting to get bad again and you had no clue as to why this hell was beginning to weigh on you when it seemed you’d finally managed to be the happiest you’ve ever been.

It’d been so long since such a terrible episode that you didn’t want Bill to become annoyed with your sudden step back. You didn’t tell him you went back to the razor blade. You didn’t tell him when you were sad. You were pushing him away, afraid if he were to see the freshly etched scars in your thighs or stomach or shoulders that he’d leave.

He wouldn’t want to do it all over again with you, there was no way someone could have that much will power to deal with you for so long. That’s how it felt. That nobody would ever want to help you pick yourself back up after several dozen times of failing. 

A sob building in your throat escaped and more tears scurried down your cheeks as your shoulders shook and you tried to silence your already silenced pain even further. You shook your head to yourself as if saying there was no way you could possibly keep doing this to yourself. No way you could possibly keep doing this to Bill.

It’d be easier to jump.

You drank the last several gulps of your drink all in one go and hissed at the stinging burning into your insides before you dropped the bottle to the balcony floor, hearing it clatter and roll to a stop.

Drawing in a long breath you tighten your hold on the edges of the ledge and wiggle your toes preparing to take the leap.

A door creaking open came from not far behind you. 

“(Y/n)?” Bill’s voice came into your hearing and suddenly the urge to jump before he could stop you grew increasingly fast. 

Bill peeked his head from behind the door and saw your back to him on the balcony ledge and for a second he feared he was too late,but to some relief you were planted still.

“(Y/n),” he rushed in, but knew not to get to close out of fear that you’d jump if he did. He took cautious steps as if walking on a mine field and one wrong step would cause a disaster that nobody would want to be apart of.

“Sweetheart,” his hand was reaching out in motions of gesturing for you to slow down and hear him out, trying to ease you down even if you weren’t looking at him,”Don’t do anything drastic, please.”

You didn’t do anything but turn to face him and saw him flinch as if he could already see you falling off, but you looked at him with empty eyes.

“Hey,” your voice was flat, but broke as your forced a dry smile,”How was the audition, honey?”

“(Y/n),” he was trying so hard not to show his fear in his voice, but failing just as hard.”Let’s talk, sweetheart, yeah?”

“Talk about what, Bill?!” You snapped, making him immediately stop. He was several feet from you and suddenly everything was crashing down on you.

“Talk about how I’ve been feeling like the worst person alive for the last few months and have been hiding it from you because you don’t need me in your life?!” the sobs were racking your body so hard, Bill was afraid you’d fall without even making the decision yourself.

“That’s not true, (Y/n),” even in this situation his voice was stern and solid. Like he couldn’t be more sure of this fact than anything else in the world.

“It feels like it is,” you sobbed and shook your head,”I feel like I’m bringing you down and you could be so much happier without me and I don’t understand why I’m feeling this way when all you’ve ever done was be so good to me. So good to me.”

It was always a cruel sense of humor to think you’d have someone to prove their love to you day in and day out in ways you never even considered possible and still question your value to them or if they meant what they said or did.

“(Y/n),  please just get down baby please we can talk this out however you want just please get down from there,” the tears in his eyes were becoming impossible to hold back as he dared to take a step closer. “You know I’ll listen to you over and over day and night if I have to.”

“But you don’t deserve to be put through that,” your lips were quivering and voice straining,”you shouldn’t have to be doing all this for me just because I can’t be strong on my own. You deserve to be happy.”

“You make me happy, (Y/n),” his body held back at seeing your unconscious grip loosen from the edge. “Please don’t do this to me. Don’t do this to us, babygirl. You’re everything to me.”

You heard his words, but said nothing in return to give him a chance to talk to you. Seeing the fear and sadness in his eyes was making you doubt your decision.

“You’re so important to me and you’ve made me grow in ways I don’t even understand..”

He was crying now.

“The day I met you , I never knew that so far down the line you’d mean the world to me and I’d be lost without you here. I need you here and alive and to keep fighting, because I’m selfish and wouldn’t be okay without you by my side.”

You had been distraught while looking down at your hands while he was speaking you didn’t notice how much closer he’d gotten.

“I know you’re sad and I know you’re in so much pain and I wish I could take it all away from you, but I can’t and it terrifies me more than anything in the world that I have no control over the thoughts that tell you you’re not good enough,” he was steps away now.

“And if anything were to ever happen to you, I would never forgive myself for losing the most beautiful woman I could ever have the greatest good fortune of calling mine.”

Suddenly he wrapped his arms around you tight and threw himself backwards so you both landed on the floor. Though he made sure to protect your head when you landed and pressed your harder into his chest as your muffled crying grew quieter.

You sobbed loudly against his chest as he held you tight laying on the floor and he cried with you, kissing your forehead repeatedly.

‘Don’t you ever do that to me again,” he sobbed while gripping your hair tightly as if he was afraid of letting go..because he was. ‘Please don’t ever do that again, please.”

His own sobs had him trembling like a scared puppy and all you could do was hug him back and cry apologizing over and over for not knowing what came over you.

He shook his head as his tears fell and all he could do was be so glad to have you breathing in his arms even if you were crying your soul out. He wouldn’t have made it without you, there was no way he could be without you. 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,  I’m sorry,” your broken breathing shook you violently as Bill suddenly pulled away to cup your face and kiss you tenderly. 

Pressing his forehead to yours as the two of your cried all he could do was whisper I love you’s and I care about you’s. 

‘It’s going to be okay,(Y/n),  I promise.”

A/n: I dont know how to feel about this. it didn’t turn out how i;d  imagined and I didnt expect to be crying either, but if you’re feeling down, please hang in there! You are doing such a good job of fighting this war and I believe in you and I am so fucking proud of you for being alive. 

[eddiemunsxn]

How you meet for Henry x female reader plz

Fluff plz

— cherry blossom.

masterlist. / nav.

❰ warnings. fem!reader, slight angst (blame hawkins lab), surgery scene (blood, wounds), there’s lots of fluff i promise

❰ word count. 2.6k

❰ note. if he just…had a healthy, soft connection with someone he might not have ended up as a moist walnut

danny elfman’s “ice dance” heavily inspired the last scene! 🥰

Trading off a concrete, jungle city for miles of trees and open sky had an unexpected change in pace. Everything from buying groceries to drinking coffee was done slower and more deliberately than in a bustling city.

Hawkins had that cafe sense of community; sitting down with someone they’d known since preschool, which meant the small town was like a knitting circle. Word got around.

Your arrival in the suburban neighborhood drew eyes like flies to a corpse. Especially your work clothes. Blank and professional, it was off putting. You didn’t have patterned scrubs or with characters, but a callback to the second world war; a white ward dress and hat.

Fitting, since your new job was established after that war, built as an X with only one road in and out. Secluded in the woods, barbed wire fences cradled the building. It didn’t have windows, but was covered with chain mail-esque grating, and atop the roof, disks jutted out like a cluster of white mushrooms.

You slowed your car at the gate, and provided your identification tag to the military police. Looking through the many eyes of the gate, something cold breathed down your throat; spreading like food coloring throughout your body.

The other thing you learned about small towns—they weren’t safer. There was a preconceived notion of them being more secure than big cities, but the opposite was true.

Your job was the most perilous thing in Hawkins. In your history of government work, little fazed you, but when you first saw the children, lined up in order of height like Russian nesting dolls, it weighed down your heart. Their names were numbers. Their childhood was white walls, bloody noses, and tests.

“Children,” Brenner said. “This is your new nurse. Say hello.”

In unison, they greeted, “Hi, miss (Y/N).”

Their voices were innocent, but in their spare time they spied through closed eyes and compressed animals to death. They were being trained to kill people.

In a backlash of pre-teen rebellion, one of them had accidentally killed the previous nurse. It wasn’t their fault to lash out in such a way, seeing as where they were being raised and how they were treated. It frightened and saddened you.

But one person, an orderly, was very human with them. You didn’t know his name, but you had watched how he interacted with the children. He never stood over them, looked down at them, or watched them with the stiff demeanor of a prison guard. He was always eye level, sitting on the floor, or across from them in a game of chess.

Without windows to look outside, he became their idea of sunlight; bright at every angle in their days, and warming the cold, emotionless space within the otherwise colorful walls.

Some of that light shone on you, calming the tightness in your chest. You wished to feel all of it. To know him, and to be of some comfort to the children like he was.

The gate peeled open, and you eased your car through—just as you now encouraged one of the children through the door of the rainbow room. Hand on his shoulder, you walked in with him, and your heart hiccuped as the orderly, standing in the middle of the room, turned to you.

He neatly held his hands at his abdomen. His hair, swept in waves, recalled the color and sheen of gold pearls, contrasting his alabaster skin. He made you think of Apollo. Suitable. A god associated with the sun.

“Feeling better today, are we?” He tilted his head, his small smile dimpling his cheeks.

The child nodded.

“Great, why don’t you join the others? You've got some catching up to do.”

The child left your side, and the orderly’s eyes were drawn to you. He approached, and your heartbeat became more quick and pronounced against your chest.

His eyes held the inviting warmth of summer’s first day, but little did you know his heart was the shape of the devil’s forked tongue. Funny how he always wore white, which symbolized purity.

“We haven’t properly met.” He extended his hand out to you. “I’m Peter Ballard. And you?”

“Y/N.” You took his hand, but he was the first to squeeze. He held your eyes, entrancing you with how kind he looked, and how he kept your hand in his. “I’ve been meaning to say…” You trailed off, but he waited, patient, and smiling thoughtfully.

“The way you…interact with them. The children. It’s so human, which might be strange to say, but…no one else has that connection to these kids, not even Brenner. You sit and talk with them. You listen.”

“I used to be very close to the first one they brought in. I knew him well.” Peter stepped closer to you, dipping his chin to keep eye contact as his height grew more over you. Goosebumps traced up your spine like a sensual hand. “But I haven’t gotten to know you. And I want to.” He quieted his voice. “If you’ll let me.”

You marveled at him, lips parted. A worded response refused you, and you nodded.

The brightness in his broad smile echoed in his eyes. He looked relieved.

Peter made sure he lingered in your thoughts, whether in the moment, or when you were apart. You attracted him like flies to a dead body, and he was all over you with subtle touches—standing so close your hips brushed, walking by you and his hand kissing yours in passing.

He once removed a stray thread of your uniform stuck to your chest, letting his fingers draw along the curve of your breast. He was neat and orderly, after all. At least, that was your excuse.

It wasn’t just physical touches. His eyes always sought you out, admiring you as though you were his favorite flower in the garden, as he did now. The children blurred into the background with you around, his central focus.

“Where were you before Hawkins?” He asked. He always had an abundance of questions for you. About you.

“Macon, Georgia.”

“Is there something you miss about it?”

“Only one thing. The cherry blossoms. Each spring, Macon turns into a pink fairground for the International Cherry Blossom Festival, with amusement rides and blossom-themed events. I miss it. The trees were always so beautiful. Especially at night. And I loved sitting beneath them when the wind would blow the petals away.

“I never fit in well with others. I’ve always been reluctant in new places, believing them to be indifferent to how everyone and everything else treated me. Because I was different. With the cherry blossoms, I found…” Your throat closed like a fist, and hurt crawled into your chest; talons writing burning marks.

It wasn’t easy to convey something which could not be conveyed in words. It was in your bones, and could only be felt in those same bones.

Pain’s language was pure presence—pure feeling. Like reading braille. One would have to reach into you and feel the cracks on your bones, the rough texture of uneasy healing in order to understand.

“Solace…” Peter murmured. He looked at you differently this time. A wound recognized another wound.

Vision blurred, you met his eyes.

“I know.” He spoke so softly, with so much understanding it proved a balm to your raw nerves. “My label was ‘broken’.”

“How did you…?”

“Cope?” He lifted his brow. “My solace was black widows nested in a vent. They fascinated me. Comforted me in how misunderstood they were. Like you and I. But then I was take—” Peter cut himself off, swallowing hard, tendons swollen as scratches in his neck. “Forgive me. Memory is a rope around the neck.”

Taken?

“Can you do something for me?” This time, he looked straight on as if to appear indifferent to anyone watching. “I want to show you something, but I am unable to without your help.”

“What is it?” You asked, mirroring his action.

“Meet me after the children are asleep. The infirmary.” He tucked his hands behind his back, and left your side.

Doors shutting, and keys jangling in the locks resounded in the hall. The children were put in their rooms, numbered like their wrists.

You waited in yours, the infirmary, for Peter. What would he ask you to do? Why did it need to be in private?

The door opened, and Peter slipped through.

You strode toward him. “Peter, what’s this about?”

He held his index finger to his plush lips. “Softly.”

“Peter…”

He lowered his hand. “This place is a prison, Y/N.” He spoke slowly in his mellow tone. He wanted to emphasize each word, their importance—to sew them into you. Intricate patterns required the most steady needle. “Everyone here is a prisoner, not just the children, but the guards, too. You. Me.”

Your eyebrows squished together, and you looked down. Words evaded your mind as sudden coldness pricked your core. You hugged yourself, cupping your elbows.

“You may have a home to leave to at the end of the day, but they will always have you—body, and mind, like they do me. And they will kill you.”

You looked back up to him, eyes wide.

“Or electrocute you into mental paralysis if they so choose. What they do here will always be above your life, no matter what you do for them.”

Your stomach quivered, and sweat leaked from the lines of your palms. You believed him. Why else would he approach you with this? The government was always fucked—you didn’t need a reminder, but you never thought, as a nurse, you’d end up in this end of it.

“I’m not trying to scare you.” Peter gently took your hand in both of his, squeezing in promise. “I want to free you from this hell, and the children.” He lifted his brow. “They don’t belong here. You’ve seen, day after day, the brutality. I’ve lived it, too, and they don’t want to let me go. But you can help me, and I can help you.”

They hurt him? Christ. Your heart stuttered at the thought. “What you said before in the rainbow room, or…almost did. Were you…” You winced. “Taken by them?”

“A long time ago, when I was Henry Creel.” He released your hand, leaving a shadow of his warmth on your cold body. “They took my name, and then they took something else from me.”

He angled his head, and drew his hair back, exposing his neck. He touched a scar there—or, rather, what was below it—in him. Something the size and shape of a pill. He was able to push on it, and it rolled up beneath his skin. “Brenner calls it Soteria. It weakens me, tracks me.”

“You want me,” you said softly. “To take it out?”

Peter angled his head back and looked at you, but you saw Henry Creel. Eyes blue as Morning Glory flowers, softened by his silent pleading from the weariness of being Peter Ballard.

He had been bound to these eyeless walls, and the colors of him were flushed white—his individuality and freedom taken. All he had left was that yellow light, that sunlight you always saw radiating from him. What else could he do but try to cling to a color that meant warmth when he never received it in any form. All he had left was the meaning.

You released a breath you had been holding. “Okay.”

“Remember, you can’t hurt me more than they already have.” Henry lay on the bed, and pulled his belt from his waist, bending it into a loop to bite between his teeth.

On a stool, you sat next to him, holding a scalpel. He angled his head, exposing his neck again, and you leaned to him, brushing your fingertips along his skin to push his hair away. You touched the edge of the scalpel to the scar, glancing up at Henry with a silent apology before you drew a clean slit.

He shut his eyes as you had to trace the incision with the blade once more, due to the thick scar tissue. Blood drooled out from the cut, and you switched the scalpel for tweezers.

As you dipped them into the wound, Henry stiffened, and the cords in his neck bulged. You massaged the pill-like device upwards as you pushed the tweezers deeper to grab it.

Henry bared his teeth, and you imagined they’d leave imprints in the leather of his belt.

You clamped the tweezers down on Soteria, and pulled it out. Slick with blood, you held it up in front of you, brow furrowed. What did this thing do? Why did Henry need to be weakened? Did the other orderlies have one?

Henry relaxed beside you, letting the belt fall from his mouth. He worked his jaw, loosening it. His tolerance for pain made your heart heavy. Why did he have to go through so much of it?

He moved to sit at the edge of the bed, his eyes bearing into the device trapped in the jaws of the tweezers. “Who knew such a small thing could be a nuisance.” He grabbed Soteria from the tweezers, and stood from the bed, unconsciously walking away as he admired the device as though it were a rare jewel.

He looked over his shoulder at you, his thumb and index fingers patchy with his own blood. The sunlight in him was brighter than before. “Now I can show you.”

Henry walked you to the doors of the rainbow room, but he trailed behind, letting you approach first.

You turned to him—him, standing there all proper again, hands hidden behind him. Your incredulous look made him smile. He gestured forward with a nod, encouraging you.

Reluctant, you faced the doors, and your spine grew sensitive under his gaze. What could there be to show in here? You grabbed the handle and pulled.

Then you felt a cool breeze, and heard the wind ruffle branches, heavy with billowy pink blossoms. You drew in a breath, and the slightest, sweet smell, faintly of lilacs, caressed your lungs.

You stood in a tunnel of Cherry Blossom trees. Looking up, a blue sky veined the pink canopy.

Like making a wish on a dandelion clock, the petals blew away from their branches, and drifted around you as pink snow.

It was exactly as you remembered it—as if you had stepped into the memory itself. Third Street Park in Macon.

Happiness—golden, wonderful happiness gave you wings. You felt so light on your feet.

But as you looked around, you didn’t see Henry, and your smile faded. Your heart hesitated. “Henry?”

“I’m here.”

And then you were okay, relieved, at the sound of his voice—soft and comforting. Since you met him, you often felt strange, or abandoned, without his nearness. You had longed for people before, but not like this.

You turned, and he stepped toward you, holding all of his tenderness for you in his eyes. How blue, how much brighter they were because of you—like the wings of a morpho butterfly.

“How are you—how is this possible?”

Henry’s eyes dropped, and you looked down to his overturning wrist. He pulled away his sleeve, unveiling bolded numbering against a map of blue veins.

001.

You understood now. They took him because he was just like the children. Except, he was patient zero. The first of them.

You held his wrist, thumb grazing the numbers. Your brow furrowed as you remembered all his pain associated with that branding.

“It’s alright,” Henry murmured, reaching his free hand up to cup your face.

You nuzzled his hand, touching your lips to his palm.

Around you, petals gathered like snowflakes, carpeting the ground in pink. Some clung to your hair, and his golden waves.

He rested his forehead against yours, your noses kissing. “It’s you and me now. I’ll keep you safe.”

[bellarkeselection]

Masterlist = All Characters I Write For

Hi readers, this is my main blog just for requests. @countrymusiclover is my side blog where I post my Wattpad fanfictions

About Me

21+ year old girl

She / Her

Currently a college student so I will get to requests when I can

- Ask box is open for any questions

Request Rules -

No full smut - only implied will be written ( I actually am getting better at writing semi smut )

Gender - Female x readers only, not comfortable with writing other genders sorry : (

Fluff allowed

Angst allowed

Send requests to my ask box.

Don't steal any work that I write!!

Tag List -

If you want to be added just ask.

Tell for which fandom

Tell for which character/characters

Fandoms -

The 100

Game Of Thrones

House of the Dragon

One Chicago

9 - 1 - 1

( 1 ) Yellowstone

( 2 ) Yellowstone

( 3 ) Yellowstone

My Life with the Walter Boys

Star Wars

1883 (Yellowstone)

1923 Yellowstone

Jurassic world / Fallen Kingdom / Dominion

The Vampire Diaries

The Originals

Legacies

Beau Arlen

Henry Tudor (White Princess)

The Summer I Turned Pretty

Grey's Anatomy

F. R. I. E. N. D. S.

Once Upon A Time

Criminal Minds

Avengers (MCU)

X Men

Young Sheldon

Pearl Harbor (2001)

Sweet Home Alabama

Reign

Tags @tallrock35

[firstprince-ao3feed]

Pearly Gates

by miharaikko He allows himself to take another look, sliding his gaze from top to bottom and taking in the image in front of him. If he thought before that this guy was intriguing, he can now clearly see that he is beautiful. The stark light at the bar contrasts the darkness of the rest of the club, splitting the figure in front of him in two opposing halves. He takes in the bright one, where some blonde strands of hair are almost white and the shimmer of sweat on the forehead glistens back at him, and then the darker one, where soft lights from afar dance on the man’s cheek, bathing him in a glow that Alex finds hypnotic. Or: Alex sees Henry across the dance floor and is mesmerised by his ivory skin and the pearl top he is wearing. Words: 5128, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English Fandoms: Red White & Royal Blue - Casey McQuiston, Red White & Royal Blue (2023) Rating: Mature Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Categories: M/M Characters: Alex Claremont-Diaz, Henry Fox-Mountchristen-Windsor, Miguel Ramos (Red White & Royal Blue) Relationships: Alex Claremont-Diaz/Henry Fox-Mountchristen-Windsor Additional Tags: Light Angst, Fluff, Meet-Cute, Jealousy, Law Student Alex Claremont-Diaz, Falling In Love, Slow Burn, POV Alex Claremont-Diaz via https://ift.tt/YtmdPHG