#her trying to convince herself that maybe he’s just feeling ill

[the-s1lly-corner]

Hello, could you do, gummigo x wife reader, where the two say goodbye before gummigo leaves with his brothers, to steal Maple Syrup from the Kingdom of Candy Canyon, but when they fall off the map with Pomni, he tells him about the reader Afterwards, when Caine kills Gummigo, I think, the team goes on an adventure again to the same place as Candy, but he finds the village where Gummigo lived. Pomni goes to look for Readee to tell her, and when he finds her, The reader invites her to come to the house, where Pomni discovers that they both had a baby, and Pomni doesn't know how to tell the reader.

pomni visiting npc!gummigoos wife!reader after caine poofs gummigoo

short post! not much to say here in the beginning notes lmao notes: reader is gn, maybe afab due to the baby but one can assume they dont have to be given digital world physics + npc stuff Cws: guilt

one can assume that gummigoo still exists, just poofed and sent back to the void waiting for when he needs to be used once more. though i personally think that if he were to return, he would not remember anything that happened in episode 2... so lets explore two ideas in this post! ill divide each by a gap

assuming gummigoo does not return in the quest that involves the reader, and pomni stumbles upon you and sees your child... oh god she feels so horrible. as far as she knows shes doomed gummigoo- and that he no longer exists. ragathas reassurance that he may come out again did little to comfort her

she cant bring herself to be around you for long

she wants to tell you, she feels like she needs to- but you talk like everything is perfectly fine. of course you would, you werent sentient. you had all of these false memories. to you gummigoo had only been gone for a short period, off trying to get the syrup to save your village

ultimately i feel like pomni may swallow her guilt, what if she told you what happened and the exact same thing happens to you? poofed. she wouldnt let you go to the circus, but does that really matter? does this place still exist when the circus members are there?

its all so suffocating, she cant stand it. and the fact that youre trying to ask her whats wrong only makes her feel worse- she feels like shes going to puke

she likely holes herself up in her room as soon as the adventure ends, trying to recover.. its not going to get easier, is it?

but on the chance that gummigoo is around once more, just without his memories of... everything he experienced that day..

its not much better, but at least pomni can try to convince herself that at least he still exists- even if not consciously. it kills her a little inside to see the three of you interact with each other

completely unaware that you arent real people

you talk about how your child is the light of your life

but theyre just lines of code

the visit is brief, she doesnt find much of a reason to stick around

theres still the thought in her mind, almost telling her that shes obligated to tell you and your family everything thats going on

but you look so peaceful and shes not sure she can handle shattering your reality and just leaving you all alone- she has to go back to the circus eventually and shes learned her lesson that she cant bring any of you with her

similarly, the idea of "do you even exist when you arent needed" plagues her mind- would telling you and leaving you here do anything? would you all just forget again? that feels... needlessly cruel

[nmakii]

Hey! So I saw your arcana event post (I'm not sure how it works) but I'd like to see what you'd think of platonic!Charlie and/or platonic! Lucifer where (Reader) is Charlie's sibling but they feel like they aren't appreciated as much and they feel resentment/Jealousy towards them. Because of that (Reader) doesn't really talk to them anymore and Charlie/Lucifer tries to find out why. Well, it doesn't have to be plantonic if you rather it be something else, I wouldn't mind.

Right, to get straight to the point, I'd like a segment inspired by the Judgement prompt. With either Charlie and Lucifer. Maybe it it starts it angst to fluff, but you're the writer, so whatever you're comfortable with. No pressure! You may feel free to move over with this idea.

YOU’RE LOSING ME - Judgement Upright & Reversed

— rekindling your bond with your father and sister, lucifer and charlie morningstar

— tags: gn!reader, small father husk x reader, alcohol, family jealousy, ill wishes, angst to fluff

— join in! the major arcana - decide your fate

as one of the heirs to the throne of hell, you’d worked your hardest to earn the respect of the sinners. commanding them with decisivness and elegance, often reminding many (especially your father) of your mother, lilith.

with your strong personality, lucifer hid himself in his private sector of the palace, doing who knows what in there until dinner came, in which he’d sit at the opposite side of the table. giving quick and quiet responses to your attempts at conversation.

and it’s because of that— the lack of excitement and conversation in the palace, that you decided to join your sister’s deluded dreams of redemption at her ‘Happy Hotel’.

in all honesty, the hotel was not too shabby at all. minimal pests thanks to the housekeeper, niffty; generally cozy decor provided by the radio demon himself; and decent drinks provided by husk the bartender

the only real thing that kept you from truly enjoying the hotel was charlie herself. it was true, you loved charlie and would do anything to make her happy, even if it meant saying something you didn’t believe was true. but, the difference in the ways everyone treated her and you!

everyone treated her like a leader, albeit the occasional poke at her convincing skills. not to mention the amount of blind faith that vaggie and alastor put in her, pushing themself to their emotional limits and fulfilling bizarre requests just to see her succeed. in turn, they treated you like an old pal and attempting to befriend you, don’t they see you as charlie’s equal?

it was never a thought you’d ever dare to say out loud; but, at times you wished she’d cease to exist, or even never existed at all. if she wasnt here, no one would compare you two anymore.

your resentment grew by the time charlie had invited your father to the hotel. standing on the sidelines as lucifer did his best to prove to charlie he was much more helpful than alastor.

“dad— um, maybe you’d want me to give you a tour around the hotel? i could show you around, i practically know it like the back of my hand!” you grinned, trying to impress him. lucifer glared at alastor before turning to face you softly and responding, “my dear, i think it’d be better if charlie was the one to give me a tour!”

you noticed that lucifer was glaring at alastor, so you had tried your best not to take it to heart. “oh… alright, dad” you bared a forced smile. don’t think though for a second that your father didn’t notice. his spiteful grin fell as he saw the disappointment on your face. though, as much as he wanted to say something about it, he was too much of a coward to say anything about it.

as lucifer, charlie and alastor left to their tour, you sat down at the bar, husk noticing your sullen mood, mixing you an ‘el diablo’, quite ironic. “now what’s got you so down in the dumps, ah? got some daddy issues?” he smiled softly at you, leaning over the bar counter to listen, tuning out whatever nonsense mimzy was spouting. quite different from the usual grumpy cat. “what are you on about? i don’t… have daddy issues” you scowled as husk poured the crimson drink into a tall glass. “really now?” he raised an eyebrow. “well… whatever shit you’ve got going on, you gotta face it head on, instead of shoving it down. trust me, i’ve been in your shoes before” he smiled as he shook the hair on your head. “look… i gotta go do something for a second, just… sit tight, got it?” he said as you nodded before leaving the counter to who knows where.

halfway to the end of the glass, a bang struck out, resonating through the entire hotel. “oh, shit…” mimzy cursed out as she hid behind the counter. those minutes were a blur, ignoring the world surrounding, engulfed by husk’s words. “whatever you’re going through, you have to face it head on.” you frowned, the tequila clouding your thoughts.

you turned your back to see lucifer gripping charlies back in a loving hug. your eyes narrowed in on them, rolling them as you snarl. lucifer heard, slowly letting go of charlie before walking to you, cupping your back, spine hunched on the counter.

“hey, kiddo… what’s gotcha looking so pissed..?” he asked awkwardly, most likely aware of the source for you hate. “what does charlie have that… what makes her so much better than me?” your lip trembled, tears threatening to fall out before overflowing down your cheeks.

your dad and charlie listened to your insecurities, as well as looking in hindsight at the events of today. guilt growing in the pit of his stomach, he turned the stool to face him as he embraced you in a warm hug, stroking you back softly as charlie joined from behind.

“kiddo… im so sorry if i ever made you feel like you werent good enough. i…i just got so happy that i got to see you two again. i guess i also got too caught up in trying to help with the hotel, i overlooked you and im sorry. i never meant to do that, could you find it in your precious heart to forgive your old man?” his eyes softening as he kissed the top of your head.

charlie spoke up too “im sorry too… i got too focused on trying to prove that the hotel works, i didnt even think that you probably want to spend time with dad too…” she pouted. as her grip on you tightened. “it’s okay, let’s just promise to be more open with each other… you two are the only family i’ve got left now that mom’s disappeared…” you smiled, arms wrapping around your father and sister.

[honkytonk-hangman]

In Sickness...

Jake Seresin x Aviator!Reader

Summary: Jake feels his pulse jump and his stomach fly when he talks to or about you. Obviously, this must mean he's gravely ill.

Notes: mentions of a cheating boyfriend, jake convinced he's sick when really he is in loooveeee

Masterlist

“Hey, Hangman, can I talk to you for a minute?”

Jake, despite his usual goal of doing everything in his power to get on Phoenix’s nerves, finds himself ignoring the need to be quite annoying. His antics aside, he knew his fellow aviator well enough by now to recognise when she was up for his shit, and when she absolutely wasn’t.

That doesn’t mean he’s not going to be a little bit of a douchebag, though.

“Give me a second, Trace, I’ll need to start my timer.” he makes a show of observing his watch and starting a countdown from sixty seconds. Phoenix ignores him, and in place of possibly giving him a dead arm, she instead comes to a stop in front of him, her arms crossing over her chest in a way that was just a Natasha Thing, and not actually a sign of closed body language-thing

“You’re going to be at Mav and Penny’s later, right?” she asks, even though he knows he’s never given the impression of having any other plans, and she knows it. Jake simply nods, still pretending to count down.

“Right. Well… maybe take it easy on Cricket tonight, okay?” Phoenix asks him, her voice soft and quiet in a manner that makes Jake mess up his countdown, and subsequently drop his wrist and the bit entirely.

“I’m under the impression that I always take it easy on my favourite member of the orthopteran insect family,” he poses, and it's not untrue. He didn’t snipe with Cricket like he did with the others, mostly because she never sniped back, so trying to maintain a faux adversarial relationship would just be boring. No, Cricket was far sweeter and more wholesome than literally anyone he’d ever met, like Elle Woods had a lovechild with Barbie, and instead of banter, he’d found it irresistible and perpetually rewarding to tease her about her Certified Disney Princess status.

(Jake will never let her forget the time a small child at the beach approached her to ask if she was a mermaid, and that wasn’t even the only instance he’d witnessed something like that happening.)

 Phoenix shifts uncomfortably in front of him and purses her lips.

“Look, just… give her a break tonight,” she pushes. Jake frowns even deeper, his own mood becoming solemn now.

“What's wrong? Is she alright?” the questions leave his mouth before he can really consider perhaps only asking one, to keep some semblance of cool. Phoenix dances from foot to foot again and nods, but then quickly makes the universal noise, gesture and expression of ‘well, no, actually’.

“She, uh, broke up with her boyfriend a few days ago.” Nat reveals, and oddly, it's the last thing Jake was expecting to hear, and the last thing he’d expect her to divulge to him.

“Oh.” he says, a little unsure of what else to say. Blinking rapidly, Phoenix starts nodding again, this time in a sort of commiserating manner, as if they often gossiped.

“Yeah, she came home to find the prick was fucking one of his colleagues…” She all but spits the words. Her hands form fists where they’re still tucking into her folded arms.

“She's actually really torn up about it, but you know Cricket. She’s not very good at not being positive, you know? So she’s just bottling it up, and I figured, maybe your usual game with her might not be so lighthearted right now. You know she would never tell you if you actually hurt her feelings, so…” Phoenix manages to catch herself before she descends into a full on ramble.

In all the years he’d known her, Jake had only ever witnessed Phoenix fully ramble once, several years ago back in Lemoore, when she and Halo had downed eight shots in ten minutes, and she then proceeded to give him a thirty minute TEDTalk about how cockroaches were basically just incredibly simple AI machines, interrupted every so often when she dozed off against his shoulder, only to pick right back up like nothing had happened.

Pushing the memory aside, Jake takes in her words slowly before at last he releases a deep breath.

He actually finds himself a little taken aback by the sheer depth of anger that lances through him at the thought of Cricket being treated like that. Nobody deserves to be cheated on, but Cricket was simply someone that Jake doesn’t believe anything bad should ever happen to. Around the same time he comes to this conclusion, Jake also becomes aware that as his anger simmers down, he’s struck with the need to seek out his squadmate, and comfort her, something which, if Jake is honest with himself, is not something he has much experience with. He was much more likely to offer space to someone in need, so this sudden urge causes his brow to furrow.

Jake chooses to compartmentalise this oddness for now, but makes a mental note for later to figure out when exactly he’d developed such a strong fondness for Cricket, and more importantly, how exactly that had happened without him knowing.

For now, Jake just gives Pheonix a level nod, and what he hopes is an expression she takes to mean he understands. He then tries to get a hold of his rogue fondness and leashes it with what he thinks is a brotherly, friendly reaction, a more normal reaction for him to have towards his squadmate.

“Does she want him punched or something?” he asks, feeling as though anything more would reveal too much of his scattered, fond thoughts. Jake purses his lips when he realises that ‘fondness’ was quickly becoming an understatement he’ll have to address at some point.

Phoenix's lips curve into a genuine smile, and she chortles softly, shaking her head.

“Well, you’ll have to get in line if she does. I’ve got first dibs.” she states, cracking her knuckles and then her neck, making Jake snort, and shrug, glad to know that perhaps he wasn't the only one suddenly feeling protective.

“I’m sure we could come up with a wrestlemania-worthy finishing move, a la The Hardy Boys to sort him out.” Jake chortles, imagining he and Nat in matching championship belts, and ignoring her raised eyebrow. He knows from that one movement alone that she is filing this information about him away to whip out like a trap card, but compared to the other information she might have gleaned from his reaction to the situation, he doesn’t care so much.

(Besides, Jake felt no shame about his love for Attitude-Era WWE, and if he ever gets the chance to repay her for the thirty minutes of cockroach facts he could have lived his whole life without needing to know, well, now he knew exactly what his topic of choice would be.)

Four hours later, Jake, for some reason, cannot stop thinking about his conversation with Phoenix. He tried chalking it up to the fact that it was an unusual request she’d made of him, but he knows that is bull. Jake is far too invested all of a sudden in your personal life, in your feelings, in a way that honestly, he never has been before. Or at least, has never realised before, because the more Jake lingers on the idea that you were cheated on, he has to confront the fact that these feelings might just have been there all along, and that actually, your happiness and wellbeing are extremely important to him.

He keeps his distance when you arrive with Halo at Penny and Mav’s, but he eyes you hawkishly anyway, uncaring if he’s obvious about it or not. He wants to believe that if he hadn’t known, he’d have spotted your much more reserved demeanour immediately, but honestly, he's not really sure of anything now when it comes to you. Jake isn’t sure if Phoenix spoke to the others, if he was just the last to know, but there is an air of tenderness in the way the others greet you, which wasn't entirely unusual in itself, yet the softness is palpable even from where he sits on the other side of the yard.

He watches you put on a good show, smiling sweetly at Penny as she rushes over to say hello, but the moment you dont think others are paying attention, your features fall and Jake decides that it is basically unacceptable for you to look that sad ever again.

When you disappear through the backdoor, to put the share platter you’ve bought into the fridge he assumes, Jake doesn’t even excuse himself from the conversation he’s supposedly in before he’s beelining for the house. Behind him, he can vaguely hear Javy and Payback protest, but he doesn’t pay them any mind.

Jake steps through the sliding back doors quietly, closing the door behind him and shutting out the rest of the barbeque, if only for a few minutes. He moves softly through the small back room and towards the kitchen, once more surprised to find out just how pleased he is when you turn to look at him right away. That was new… or was it? Jake thinks perhaps he should stop trying to figure things out.

“Hey! Jake!” you greet cheerfully, and he’s comforted a little that your smile reaches your eyes.

“I didn’t catch you this afternoon, so I didn't get to find out your fruit platter preference, but Javy told me anything but pineapple–” you launch right away into friendly conversation, and oddly, this small normality brings him comfort too, after his afternoon of quiet worry. Jake nods at your words as you continue explaining your fruit platter, and if he hadn't other things on his mind, he would have voiced his amusement at the fact you’d somehow managed to cut or arrange all the fruits into the shape of jets.

Anger bubbles in him once again, at the idea that anybody would do anything to cause you to be upset. You, who cuts fruit into themed shapes, and who makes sure to ask every member of the team their food preferences, and who, he’s almost certain, has made the yoghurt dip you're currently unwrapping completely from scratch just for this casual get together.

How could any sane person know you, know how sweet and caring and fundamentally, altogether good you are, and still choose to do something that would hurt you?

More importantly, how could a man be with you and want anyone else?

Jake takes a step forward and fixes you with what he hopes is not an expression that reflects his inner anger, but gives off something more like softness. He’s not sure he’s ever really had a serious conversation with you before, especially not one that wasn't about work, so he’s surprised how natural it feels to show you something more genuine than his usual playful amusement.

“Are you alright?” he hears himself ask you, almost regretting it when your expression drops immediately, and you look away from him, back to your fruit platter which you now seem to be pointless rearranging just so you don't have to look at him. You attempt to wave him off after a few moments, plastering a smile on and scrunching your nose as you continue to not look at him.

“I’m okay. Really. Things weren’t right for a while, so it’s sort of a relief, really.”

Jake thinks that maybe in a few months time, those words might actually be believable, but Phoenix was right. You were such a naturally happy and uplifting person, it’s clear to Jake that you were struggling to let yourself be sad or angry about it all.

You seem to be expecting him to speak, because you glance back at him several times before you seem to really get a look at his face, at which point you stop messing with your platter and turn to face him properly.

“Thank you for asking, though, I… I really appreciate that,” you murmur, wringing your hands together, before realising what you’re doing and smoothing them out over your sundress instead. Jake feels his pulse speed up. Or maybe it slows, he’s not sure, he just knows that his heart beat becomes irregular, and before he knows what he's doing, he’s stepping even closer towards you.

“Cricket,” he begins, a frown beginning to crease his brow, which your eyes flicker to consciously, as if you were concerned about his feelings. “Just say the word, and his nose will be irreparably broken. For the rest of his life he’ll be telling people it's an old football injury. Maybe he’ll even need surgery to fix it enough that it’s even remotely normal again,” Jake watches your eyes widen and blink as he speaks, but he makes sure to keep any trace of humour from his voice, so you properly understand just how serious he’s being. “Hell, it doesn't even need to be his nose. I’ll break his collarbone, I've heard that's the most painful in the long run…”

When you let out a soft sound halfway between a laugh and a sigh, Jake almost thinks he needs to rephrase his offer, but your soft smile and the almost shy look you shoot at him before you drop your gaze for a moment assures him you understood that he wasn’t joking, even a little.

“Sometimes…” you purse your lips and frown, struggling to find the right words, but you begin wringing your hands slowly again and the movement seems to lend you some confidence. “Sometimes I really wish I could be more like Phoenix… or, more like anybody else, really–” Jake has to physically clamp his mouth shut to stop himself protesting that point and let you talk.

“Sometimes, I wish I was someone who would take you up on that offer. I… I feel like I should want to want that… but I don’t…” you trail off and sigh again, but this time, the exhale seems to take a weight off your chest, like simply admitting these feelings out loud was what you really needed.

You look back up at him properly, and smile again. Jake thinks his pulse has stopped altogether now, and begins to seriously consider reporting to medical first thing Monday morning.

“But, I promise that if I ever change my mind about the severe breaking of certain bones, I’ll know exactly who to talk to.” Your smile widens just slightly, a little mischievous almost, like even just joking about it was very cheeky of you. Jake on the other hand, just believes it to be the only correct course of action.

He opens his mouth to respond, but you begin talking again, dropping your fidgeting hands to hang more relaxed at your sides.

“A lot of my life I haven’t really been surrounded by people who’ve looked out for me, or folks who I can really trust… and I know we’re not really friends, more like work friends, but–” you suddenly cut yourself off and shake your head with a little chortle.

“It doesn’t matter, ignore me–”

“–We’re friends.” Jake can’t stop himself from protesting this time. You blink at him like this is surprising to you. “We are friends, Cricket… I know I–” Jake cuts himself off like you had just done and grinds his teeth a little. This was not a conversation he went around having very often, if ever, at all. “You know I wouldn’t poke fun at you if I didn’t care. I wouldn’t do it if I didn’t think we were friends,” he says, hoping his words didn’t give away exactly how much he cared. You seem to search his face, but you’re nodding, as if he was the one who needed assuring in this situation.

Jake starts to wonder then if he was actually becoming seriously ill, and all of his reaction to this afternoon has just been one big fugue episode. That idea is genuinely more believable to him at this moment, that Jake is really, actually currently unconscious in the on base hospital, with a skyrocketing fever and some other terrible things, than all of this sudden personal change and inner realisation happening so naturally and smoothly and without him having a say in it.

But then you’re smiling at him again, bright and genuine and all thoughts of climbing fevers and sudden illness evaporate. As sad as it sounds, Jake would never dream of you smiling at him like that, the sight so affecting and sweet that he could never come up with on his own. However, he does conclude he’ll probably be seeing it a lot in his dreams from now on. He thinks this should cause panic in him, he should not be planning to dream about one of his squad mates smiling at him, but unsurprisingly to him now, panic is the furthest thing he feels about it.

“Well, I just know that I’m not always good at asserting myself, but I know that you guys… you guys will do it for me.” You give a little shrug. Jake feels a little shame then, that he’s worked with you for several months now and has not once picked up on the fact that you were completely aware of your own tendency to be a bit of a pushover.

It dawns on him that every time he teased you for being ‘too nice’, and every time you laughed or shook your head in amusement, the real joke was on him. It’s a joke that Jake doesn't find particularly funny right now. He’s not sure he ever will.

“Sorry, I’m being so dramatic and grim!” you say suddenly, and this time your mood change isn’t fake or put on. Jake shakes his head at you, and at last feels some of his regular programming begin to seep back in. He chooses to make a show of leaning back against the counter and carefully crosses his arms over his broad chest in a way that he knows looks incredibly sexy (Javy has assured him), a small smirk slowly spreading over his features.

“Cricket,” he drawls out slowly, somewhat relieved that he feels more himself again. You double take as you look back up at him from where you’ve started fiddling with your fruit platter again, your eyes blinking rapidly as you now quickly try to avoid his whole side of the room. Jake’s grin grows ever so slightly when he has your attention, even if you seem too nervous to look at him now.

Unlike most of the women Jake had worked with, you didn't seem to try to, or perhaps you simply were unable to, hide the effect Jake had on you, how he could so easily make you flustered. It's not something he’s totally unfamiliar with, after all, plenty of women around the Hard Deck were the exact same, but the fact that you aren't some civilian looking to get laid, and are in fact one of the best aviators he knows, makes it all the sweeter.

(Jake had once tried to reconcile the way you handled yourself in the air, with the way you were at all other times, but he could never quite do the maths on it, so it was better for his brain if he didn't think about it at all.)

Honestly, Jake knows his getting a reaction out of you is an act of self ego-stroking, but he loved making a spectacle of himself, just to watch how you would sputter and go all mushy, and if he’s even more honest, a big part of his enjoyment lay in the thought that perhaps, he was doing you a favour, giving you something to think about, boyfriend be damned. He supposes he doesn’t need to worry about that being a problem anymore.

Jake then pauses then, and wonders when exactly you having a boyfriend had become a ‘problem’, a threat to him specifically, because the more he thinks about the idea now (hypothetical as it is), the more his skin starts to itch under his shirt.

Perhaps he was getting sick after all.

“Yes, Jake?” you ask, still avoiding looking his way, and trying to use a tone of voice that was either exasperated or ignorant, but your slightly higher pitch gives you away.

“You didn’t say that I was your friend, too,” he faux complains, watches you shake your head a little, but fail completely at keeping the smile off of your face.

With your platter now deemed ready, you pick it up and turn toward him, holding it out for him to take. Jake, without thought, does so.

“You are my friend, too, Jake,” you tell him, far more sincerely this time, and Jake feels his pulse do that odd thing again. He swallows thickly, and nods, before you direct him out the back door.

For the rest of the afternoon, Jake can’t help but hover, never moving too far away from where you are, and when he doesn’t have an excuse to linger close to you, he always keeps one eye directed your way.

[fanartlover1234]

THIS ASSHOLE

Mattheo is Y/ns older brothers best friend, they have a frenemie relationship since Y/n got over *not really* over hed crush on him

MATTHEO X Y/N (LOVERS)

WARNING: fingering, smut, cursing, degrading

"Bye" the fourth guy who had come up to Y/n during luch period said after she had rejected him.

It was her 6th year, and suddenly every girl hated her ofcourse not her two amazing best friends and every guy wanted her.

She hadnt really changed thay much she onlu improved her style and got rid of her glasses (btw i love people with glasses) by getting contacts.

"Why cant you just say you're not interested by other guys cause you alreadt have someone on your mind?" Astoria, one of your best friends since 1st year when you 'Accidentaly' spilled a smoothy over a girl who was making fun of her for not being a pureblood slytherin said as your other best friends Pansy agreeded.

"Cause i dont like anyone else and i dont want to use a boy as excuse to not date" she said before almoat choking on her food when Cerdric the huflepuff most popular guy scared her by accident.

"Hey, Y/n, i wanted to ask if you wanted to go to hog-"

"She's taken" Pansy said as earned a glare from Y/n before the girl turned to Cedric with an apologetic smile.

"Sorry"

"No its okey" the boy said before walking away.

"I hate you, i hate your kids and your grandkids" Y/n said to Pansy annoyed before leaving to her dorm to unpack her stuff.

It was late, she had 15 minutes till curfew so she decided to run really quick to her brother as she found his uniform that he was looking for.

"Theo" she said knocking on the door and he opened and his whole friend group said hi to the girl.

"What are you wearing" Theo scolded as the girl rolled her eyes placing his uniform on the bed as he refered to her black shorts nearly visable under her oversized shirt and her slippers.

"Im leaving"

"Cover up" he said annoyed at her.

"Ill walk her, make sure nothing happens" A boy spoke, more like Mattheo who Y/n used to have a huge crush on and also her brothers best friends so she knew she never stood a chance.

"Fine" Theo said ruffling the girls hair before sushing them out.

The walk was okey, quiet for the first few minutes but soon they talked again after Mattheo had cracked a joke about the shirt Y/n was wearing.

"Where you get the shirt" he had asked.

"Oh you know it was a gift"

"Well whoever gave you that had an amazing style" he joked placing his hands in the pocket.

"Its okey"

"Okey?? My style is great" he said faking an offended look as one of his hand fell to his chest.

"Yeah yeah" the girl stoped when she got a notification on her phone looking at it.

"You good?" Mattheo asked her and she nodded.

"Just Pansy, she told Cedric that im dating someone, now she is just sending me random boys to try and get to be my boyfriend since she overheard Cedric thinking it was fake" Y/n explained before typing a no to Pansy when she saw Comrac who was not only aftet her since 3rd year but also a totak creep.

"Do you tho" he asked.

"Do i what" she asked still looking at her phone as she was explaining to Pansy she would rather date Hagrids dog that Comrac.

"Dating anyone"

Y/n couldnt help but laugh half true and half convince herself that her imagination of dating Mattheo was over a long time ago.

"Have you seen the rats that go to this school?"she asked looking at him, suddenly feeling small under Mattheos gaze.

"Y/n?" Aris who had to round the halls to make sure noone is out asked suddenly.

"Hi, Aris" she said " sorry we are out this late its just that"

"Dont excuse yourself its cool, by the way do you maybe want to go"

"She's busy dude" Mattheo said placing a hand over Y/ns shoulder making the boys excuse himself amd leave with no second though.

Mattheo smirked but it droped when Y/n smacked his hand.

"Ow" he said.

"How dare you, you know you cant just"

"Cant what?" He asked steping closer to her.

"Scare away every boy that talks to me, you know you have been doing this since 3rd year with Theodore its so- " she pulled looking for the word when Mattheo leaned down their faces inches apart.

"Its called caring"

"Its called being annoying" she said steping back and going away from him.

"Y/n, c'mon dont be like that" he said callinh out for her.

Y/n raised her hand flashing him her middle finger as she walked away earning a chuckle from the boy.

TWO DAYS LATER

Y/n pressed on Mattheos number on her phone, very much annoyed and ready to have a screaming match after Daniel, a boy from Ravenclaw, suddenly stood her up yesterday.

She was sad all day, talking with her brother when suddenly he sliped and exposrd his friend.

"I just dont understand" the girl sniffled as she layed in her bed, her neat hair now messy, her masscera running down her cheeks as she sat in her bed drowning her sadnes in icecream while Theodore comforted her.

"Look, if he stood you up, he probably an idiot or at least more of an idiot than you" he said recieving a death glare from Y/n as she agresivly stabed the ice cream with a spoon " okey sorry but i mean-"

"Nope you're right, i shouldnt have trusted him to like me"

"Nope, its code red, you said im right" he said placing a hand on her forhead askinh if she is sicm or anything.

Y/n laughed at her brother her smile making him smile as well.

"There she is"

"Thanks bro"

"Hey hey, im your big bro and you are my lil sis no matter how old we get, or how much of an asshole Matthep can be scaring sweet old Danny"

"What?" Y/n asked feeling her blood boiling at what her brother said.

"Yes, princess" Mattheos voice sounded godly over the phone but Y/n was angry.

"HOW DARE YOU SCARE DANIEL AWAY?" She yelled over the phone.

"Yelling much" he stated " look he plays girls like quiditch, stoped you from making a mistake"

"Yeah well i would have liked to make that mistake my self, you what Mattheo"

"What?"

"The days of you controling my life are over"

Mattheo smirked only imagening the girl screaming this was while she was under him, nope he cant think like that, that was his best friends sister.

"Yeah, we'll ses about that" he stated before pressing the red button and droping the phone call while Y/n screamed at him.

Two weeks had passed and Y/n has went out of her skin to avoid Mattheo at all cost.

It went from being the last in the class and the first out of it, taking konger routes just to not meet the boy in the hallway.

Matthep had noticed it, tried talking to her during the first week as they had three classes together.

Just whem Y/n got used to her new lifestyle profesor Snape happen.

"And finaly, Y/n and Mattheo will work about love spells, love potions and all things considered in that major"

"Wait what no, he is an asshole" Y/n protested making Mattheo scoff.

"Well this asshole is now your buddy" the profesor said making Y/n slouch in her chair.

After a few hours Y/n was in the library looking for book about their theme.

Y/n was reaching for a book on one of the higher shelfs when she felt someone press against her taking the book she was reaching for as she silently cursed herself when she realised who was behind her as she slowly turned around not looking at him but atempting to leave but she gasped when he grabed the shelf next to her head stoping her in her tracks.

"Hi, Y/n" he said leaning in his hand to see her face better.

"Heyy, Mattheo, how you been?" She said as she tried to make a convo with him to get out of the situation.

"Pretty good, taking the fact that one girl has been avoiding me" he said

"What? I havent been, i mean who would avoid you" the girl said " ill just " she tried moving his hand but to no avail his hand barely moved.

Y/n turned to face the book shelf her forhead leaning on the shelf her eyes closed as she whined out loud earning a sush from the librarian so she yelled out sorry.

Mattheo chuckled a bit placing the book on some other books.

Y/n reached for the book but Matthep grabed her hand.

"You wanna get out?" He asked earning a nod from her.

He felt her breath hitch when he leaned in kissing hed hand before moving closer to her ear he smirked a bit when he saw saw the flush on hed cheeks " then you gotta talk to me" he said before Y/n turned her head a bit meeting his brown eyes cursing herself when she realised she would never or at leasf any time soon be over the 'silly' little crush on Mattheo.

Mattheo smiled at hed as he turned her over.

"Why are you avoiding me princes?" He asked.

Truth be told she didnt know, she thought maybe cause she was mad but now she realised that she avoided him to avoid her feelings.

"I-um well you see- i um was just, we really gotta start this project " she spoke as she tried walking away again.

She knew she had to get out herself as they were in the locked session where she begged to be let in.

"Nuh uh" he said going closer to her as she felt the pool in her underwear.

"Matt"

"Hmm?" He asked

She gasped grabing on to his upper arms when she felt his fingers dance on her inner thigh.

She followed his movements with her eyes as he got on his knees a smirk on his face whike he looks up at her.

She moved her hand to his shoudler on to be stoped as he grabed her hands placing them next to her.

He lifted her skirt a little before pulling her white laced panties down he looked at them amd examened how she looked as he tucked her skirt up by the belt so it wouldnt fall.

Y/n felt small under him as she tried to cover herself ip suddenly feeling shy and insecure.

He sighed and closed his eyes before getting up looking at her.

"Turn around" he said and she did while Mattheo took his tie off placing both her hands behind her back and tying them together before turning her around.

He looked at her, looking at her blouse.

"Can i?" He asked and she nodded " use your words"

"Yes" with that he began undoing her blouse the non stap white bra caught his attention as he pulled her shirt off till her wrists.

Her hands behind her made her chest pop out as he undid her bra it falling on the ground.

He kissed her roughly before pulling back and steping away from her looking at her.

He had imagened this a thousand times.

Her hair neat, hed lipstick speared, going lower her chest bare, nipples perked up as hed hand were tied behind her back.

The bottom of her skirt was tucked at the waistband of her skirt revieling her freshly shaved pussy, as her juices made it glossy, some even driping down her legs as she stood in her black heels that didnt make her even close to be his height.

He steped closer his hands going to her hips as he moved closer to her.

"I may or may not have scared the boys away cause ive been madly in love witj you for the past 3 years" he whispered as she looked up at him.

"I-"

"Dont say anything, let me show you what no other man can do for you" he said falling to his knees slaping hee thighs lightly for her to open her legs and with no second thought his mouth was on her clit, sucking and licking as his fingeres toyed with hed folds.

After few minutes after he felt her legs shake he got up inserting 2 fingers in her entrance, kissing her roughly as he held her up.

He felt her juices leak in his hands the white mixture of her pleasure on his fingers when he pulled them out, stoping the kiss.

He ran the cum covered fingers over her lips before bringing her to her knees before placing the fingeres into her mouth and ordering her to suck.

The sight was unbearable, her lips around his fingers her doe eyes looking up at him, her legs spread by his feet while shw mindlesly tried do rub against air needing more.

He chucklsd as he looked at her, her drool driping on her chest, her masscera stained, her lipstic as well while she mindlesly sucked on his fingers, her legs spread as she was desprate to get more so she rubed against air.

He pulled his fingers out, pulling her hair back as he squated ths same level as her.

"Did you plan on getting fucked, i mean you look so pathetic, like a whore" he said " but dont worry darling, ill take care of you, you are mine afterall, do you want more" he asked.

She right away said yes, making him chuckle as he lifted her up a little while getting the book he previously had in hand placing it under her cunt.

"Do your work, princess" he didnt have to say it even as the minute she felf something on hed clit she rubbed in no time the book was coated in white fluid as Mattheo kissed her thsi time gently while untying her hands

He pulled her fo him, using his wand to teleport them away to her dorm, him laying her down.

"I love you, my good girl" he said.

"I love you too"

THE NEXT DAY

"You wanna go out" a random boy asked her again.

"No, i have a boyfriend" she said loud enough to catch Mattheos attention as she kept an eye contact with him.

"Girll, tell-"

"Dont you see" Pansy cut Astoria off showing that the girl was looking at Mattheo.

[seduzist]

helloooo!!!! this is my first time sending a request sorry if its a bit awkward :< could you do artxtashixpatrickxfem!reader (if u write for challengers!) where reader's an idol (or any career, really) who's very successful and rich but lonely bcus people only date her for social climbing? and then the three decide to try and make her feeeeellll... better?

sorry if this is a bit unclear, like i said this is my first time sending a req! :3

(an: guys its so hard to write a foursome i had no idea like- 😭 and i wrote it really sleepy so im sorry ill fix any mistakes later.)

art x patrick x tashi x fem!reader

cw. smut, foursome, dirty, just very dirty.

even if u’re a famous singer, with many fans and required by many people, when tashi duncan herself invites you to watch her husband’s game after you tell on a interview that you liked to watch tennis, you couldn’t possibly refuse. it was a really exciting game, but sadly came to an end after patrick zweig loses for just a few points, but that didn’t really matter because what happened afterwards is even more exciting. tashi invited you to her dorm, you were all staying at same hotel after all, wasn’t weird of her to want to know you better and introduce you to her champion husband.

you entered shyly as tashi opened to you, saying it was a pleasure to know you in person, that she was happy you were there, what really surprised you was seeing patrick sitting at the couch drinking a beer and talking with art, like the game of a few hours ago didn’t happen.

you sit by their side and after being introduced you were all already on a involvent conversation, they convinced you to drink some beers with them and after a few ones you were drunk. they were funny, made you feel comfortable enough to rest your head on tashi’s lap while you talked abt your shitty ex who used you just for social climbing. that’s how comfortable they made you, or maybe that’s how lonely you felt. while you laughed at some stupid joke patrick made, tashi started caressing your face gently, and before you could even realize her thumb circled your lips, like she was asking you to suck her finger. it was a little awkward but art’s kept looking at you, curious if you would do it or not, and in a act of courage, you did, made him mumbles a “fuck” under his breath and bring one hand to his bonner. that’s when you fully realized what was happening, you all exchanged looks.

“if you wanna leave, it’s okay, but if you stay… we just want to make you feel good..” tashi whispered lowly, and you thought for a sec or two, but then you got up, kneeling on the couch and kissing her lips, she kissed you back in a heartbeat and grabbed your hair in her hand. you heard patrick gasp and art breath heavily and looked at them, seeing hunger in both of their eyes, tashi calls them and they both get closer, patrick involved your waist with his arm you all started to exchange messy kisses, to the point where you could differentiate them by the kiss.

after a few minutes they took you to bed, you couldn’t even tell how did all of you get naked, but you wasn’t complaining. tashi sits with you laying between her thighs, it was clear that her words kept you relaxed at this point, she massaged your breasts while patrick started positioning himself between your legs, but before he could part them, you heard the voice above your ear.

“who do you think that deserves to fuck you first, hm? the winner as a reward, or the loser as a consolation prize?”

“oh c’mon, tashi-“ patrick was cut off by her warning look, silently shutting him up.

art just found it funny, even though his dick was rock hard and you could see the precum leaking, he didn’t seen to be desperate like patrick, that’s when you made your decision.

“i’m no consolation prize, i’m the fucking reward.” the married couple enjoyed your answer but patrick gave a loud slap on your thigh playfully before leaving, giving room for art to come, he leaned over to kiss you as a thanks before got up again, thrusting his pretty cock on your dripping entrance, so slippery that didn’t take long for him to get rough.

you felt patrick by your side, offering his cock for you to suck, which you tried to, but your body were moving to much with art’s thrust and you couldn’t stop moan, poor boy only gets a few seconds with his cock inside your mouth before tashi started to jerk him off in front of your face.

didn’t take long for them to cum too, art spewing his load inside you while you came around his cock, and patrick leaking thick cum all over your pretty face and tits, you looked at him with doe eyes, almost apologizing to him silently, but he smiled at you when he finished, letting you know that it was fine.

you felt your pussy aching when art took his softened cock out, but smiled when you heard tashi above your ear “hope you’re not tired yet, it’s girls time now, doll.”

[thesoftestmess]

this might not be canon, but personally i need furina to struggle a whole lot longer and harder with post-prophecy depression and mental illness. She's played the same tiring and painful act for five centuries, was constantly in a life or death scenario and had to hide her true self from the world the entire time and she won't just recover in a few years from that.

There's parts of her that will never ever be compatible with a simple human lifestyle, and parts of her that are irreparably broken. She isn't sure of her personality after everything that happened and the lie she had to live. She slips between personas and her archon temperament comes through like a defensive mechanism at any sign of conflict or trouble.

She's plagued by nightmares. Of the flood, of the trial, of the people closest to her conspiring against her behind her back, and of being found out in a million terrible ways. Of saying the wrong thing, making a wrong decision. Of being found out, of being found out, of being found out.

Lying or keeping a secret feels existential still. Being honest still feels life threatening sometimes. Putting herself first feels like putting both hands on a hot stove.

She doesn't live in the palais anymore, doesn't have to sit through trials anymore, but her heart and soul are still there. In her dreams she's still at the place she spent her entire life's memories at.

Yes, she can make new memories, but it'll take time. More time than she has, maybe, now that she's the closest to being human she'll ever be.

She'll never be human in the way the people around her are.

What sort of human has 500 years worth of memories after all? What human tells personal anecdotes and mixes up their centuries?

What sort of human can feel the absence of their divinity like it's a physical thing? A voice that will never speak to her again, or keep her alive? What human has no family, no childhood?

What human remembers so little, but still remembers death somewhere deep within?

She jerks out of sleep from it sometimes, gasping for air, and spends the rest of the night awake, almost frozen by fear. The flood is over, but it's hard to convince her racing heart that the danger is too.

Humans have entire family trees that go generations back, but Furina was put into this world a solitary creature, her blood heavy with sin ever since she turned human.

She owns a hydro vision now and doesn't know how to yield it, but the ocean still calls out to her some days. Sea creatures flock to her like they can smell she's not human enough.

She learns how to make little hydro companions for herself, so the darkness and emptiness of her apartment feels less ominous when she lies awake at night.

She can't turn her vision into a weapon quite yet, but when it rains the droplets seem to cling to her. She's watched them roll upwards along her arm, watched them gather in her palm like kin. She wonders if sea creatures flock to neuvillette in a similar way, or if his immense power makes them recoil. She wonders if elemental dragons can feel regret. Wonders if he, too, ever feels entirely foreign in that human body he was given. If he, too, lies awake trying to grasp faint memories of a past life.

She's extremely human in the way she's plagued by body pains from not being able to relax just one day in five centuries. The years catch up with her once she gets out of survival mode, and fatigue is a constant companion now. Sleep comes difficultly and getting out of bed was easier when the fate of a whole nation depended on it. On her. She's never lived for just herself before and some days she's not sure she wants to.

She did her duty and earned her retirement and the story turned out well, all things considered. She still has people by her side, some of them.

Still, she feels raw and tired and overwhelmed by the life lying ahead of her. As a human and as someone who will always be Something Else.

[mrskreideprinz]

| Coming Home |

Pairing: Albedo x Fem!Reader

Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI, Albedo Uses He/Him Pronouns, Reader Uses She/Her Pronouns (Only used once), Reader is sick, Albedo takes care of Reader, Reader experiences Nausea, Reader is referred to as Albedo’s Wife, Mention of Throwing Up/Puke, Mention of medication, Reader is very stubborn, Reader doesn’t take very good care of herself, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Happy Ending, Reader and Albedo are married, 1.3k words. 

A/n: this man will forever be my number one :’) 

Summary: When you fall ill one evening your husband finds out and is intent on taking care of you until you feel better. 

Tags: @auphelia @suyacho @tighnarly @themovingcastlez

Rain splashed onto the roof, leaving a pitter patter behind every drop that fell from the sky. You struggled to open your eyes, barely opening them you soon realized your throat was dry. It hurt. Nevertheless you pushed past the discomfort and sat upright, stretching out your arms and legs to awaken your body for the day, but you soon realized just how little of that day would be lived. At first you thought, maybe it’s just because it’s the morning, but soon you realized you were indeed sick. It wouldn’t be until Albedo arrived home that day that he realized just how sick you were. You thought it was a mere cold, but he reassured you it was a bit more serious than that. The flu he had informed you.

At one point you had gotten up from bed to help Albedo with something and he swiftly brought you back into your shared bedroom just to tuck you back into bed. You grumbled and complained that it wasn’t that serious, but Albedo simply ignored you. He would have none of that and you learned that very quickly. You tried for several days to get things done whenever Albedo would leave for work, and it wasn’t until he found out what you were doing that he chose to do his work at home until you recovered. He remained at home where he could keep a very close eye on his wife, who was much too stubborn for her own good. Eventually you gave up, or at least you did for that day. It was a day filled with constant battles between husband and wife. You insisted on doing things your way, and he nearly lost his mind trying to convince you to just rest.

Of course, Albedo was no stranger to your antics and sternly reminded you why he was home in the first place. “You are sick.” 

Then came the peak of your sickness, you could barely get out of bed without feeling nauseous and weak. Albedo had to be quick on his feet to help you at times, but eventually it came to a point that you were too weak to get up on your own and had to be escorted to the bathroom. Albedo was good about making sure you only had to get up if you really needed to and only then. He often made your food for you and brought it to you on a tray right to your bed, and encouraging you to please eat something. You obliged the first few times but then that nausea would build up and you’d have to stop eating immediately. Afraid you would throw it all back up you shook your head and gripped onto Albedo’s shirt, tears pricking at the corner of your eyes. He’d bring you close to him, rubbing the side of your arm as he hummed to you as a way to distract you from the sickly way you felt. 

As night approached he did well to clean up anything last minute before he administered your medicine with a glass of water. He sat on the opposite side of the bed to ensure you took each and every one, laying soothing rubs along your leg to encourage you to take your meds as best you could. Sometimes you for the life of you couldn’t take all of your medication, but as defeated and ashamed as you’d feel Albedo was quick to console you. Taking the meds from your hesitant and shaky hands he placed them on the nearby nightstand and got underneath the covers with you. 

He wrapped his arms around your waist and gently pulled your back to his chest. Albedo inhaled your scent and kissed the back of your neck as he rubbed soothing circles against your body, humming something familiar as the two of you became sleepy. He smiled and squeezed you carefully, gingerly. Albedo silently hoped that you’d feel relief in the morning, that your sore throat and pained coughs would subside and that you would be able to eat something and enjoy it. Whether that would happen or not remained to be seen until the two of you woke up wrapped among the blankets and sheets, the sun peeking through the thin curtains as if to be the quiet alarm that helped you rise for the day. 

You turned and let out a tired groan, and opening your eyes just halfway you saw as your husband smiled like the lovesick fool he was.

“How’d you sleep?” He asked softly. 

You smiled and nodded, wrapping your arms tightly around him. “Better.”

“How’re you feeling?” He continued.

You let out a yawn before answering. “Mmm much better.” 

Finally, Albedo could take a deep breath and not worry too much about you, but that didn’t mean he’d stop worrying altogether. No, he’d always worried about you. How could he not? It was you after all. 

Albedo gave you a gentle kiss on the forehead, pulling away only to smile at you some more. He saw you giggle at the suddenness of it and that spurred him on. Peppering your face with kisses he did so a little faster than the last as you kept giggling. Albedo adored that sound, your laughter. It was so soothing and easy on the ears, feeling like sunshine after rain. Peaceful and perfect. As the two of you began your day you sat upright and stretched your arms out in front of you and groaned in the process. You watched as Albedo walked out of bed and stood in the door frame with a smirk. 

You tilted your head. “What’s got you so happy, Mr.Kreideprinz?” You ask with a giggle.

He looks out the window and then returns his gaze to you, all the while still smirking. “Well, it’s such a lovely day outside and you’ve been recovering very well.” He sighs and shrugs his shoulders. 

“What? What is it?” You nearly blurt out, your body now leaning forward. 

“Well, it’s just such a shame we’d have to waste such a nice sunny day such as this. We could’ve had a nice picnic out in the backyard.” He continues egging you on, very obviously trying to get a reaction out of you. Playfully, of course.

“The backyard? What about on Starsnatch Cliff?” You question. 

He gives you a teasing look. “Don’t push it.” 

You gleam with excitement and jump out of bed. “Okay, backyard it is!” 

Hopping out of bed you talked loudly about how excited and eager you were to go out on a day as nice as this, and at that point you no longer cared where it was happening as long as you got to experience the warmth of the sunshine with your husband. And before you knew it you had forgotten all about how awful you had felt these past few days. Sure, you weren’t entirely recovered, but that’s exactly why Albedo was keeping you close to him. So, as to not push you any farther than what you could currently handle. Thankfully, everything worked out in the end. You survived the day with no worsening health and in return you gained a memory which you would remember for years to come.

[unecoccinellenoire]

I wish you would write a fic where Gabriel, Adrien, and Nathalie get ice cream from Andre Glacier and Gabriel’s ice cream reflects Nathalie, not Emilie

It had seemed like a good idea; Nathalie had needed reassurance after being akumatised so Adrien thought to ask, and his father was being unusually attentive and indulgent so for once he could ask an expect a yes.

In fact the sound of André Glacier calling out his wares in front of the manor had seemed like fate.

Nathalie hadn't been happy with his father at breakfast, Adrien wasn't stupid enough not to see that, but his father had clearly been making an effort to win her back over- including finally acknowledging her as part of the family even if he wasn't quite ready to admit they were dating yet despite the ring he'd given her.

The two of them sharing ice cream meant for lovers should have been the ideal way to get them to reconcile, keep Nathalie from being akumatised again in her fragile state and prevent his father from falling back into the pit of grief he'd only just managed to claw his way out from.

But even as Adrien was staring at his own familar bowl of blackberry, blueberry, and strawberry choc chip and trying to convince itself that it wasn't necessarily Ladybug- that the it could be Marinette's hair and eyes and the spots in the red meant nothing his father's hand slammed down on the counter.

"That's the wrong one," He snapped at the ice cream seller. "Peach and Mint, that's what you always give me." Adrien looked up to see a bowl that looked nothing like that.

It actually looked not dissimilar to his own, the same small scoop of blueberry sat on top but-

"No, this is right," André said, "you need something a little different now, cranberry for-"

"How things have soured between us? I'm no fool I can see who this is meant to be,"

Nathalie, it had to be. As if there was any question that it those colours for his father could be anyone else the swirl of red sauce on the dark blue sorbet matching the streak on her hair made that clear.

"Isn't that a good thing?" He interupted his father, "that,"

"That it can change?" His father snarled back, "all that establishes is that this whole thing is a marketing strategy. That it's not your soulmate or the love of your life or whatever ridiculous,"

"Love is not ridiculous," André interrupted, "you can find love again Monsieur Agreste. It finds us all."

"That's-"

"Father," Adrien tried again, "if we don't hurry up then Nathalie will come looking for us."

"I'm sure Nathalie is already watching us," Gabriel spat.

Adrien blinked and stared at his father, "you said all of that knowing she might hear it? How could you? Nathalie loves you, and she's already scared because of her illness- she was just akumatised. How could you be so horrible to her?"

"Nathalie would probably say,"

"That you forget to think about other people." The woman herself startled them.

"You shouldn't be out of the house," Adrien said, feeling his cheeks go hot with embarassment.

"Your father bought me this so I could leave the house," she said, and she held out some notes to André, "here. Give me mine and we'll be gone."

"Ah, mademoiselle," he went to scope up a white ice cream, "for his icy-"

"I don't need the spiel. You've already upset one of us. Just give me something that tastes nice."

The ice cream seller handed it over. Nathalie sighed as she took it.

Once again it was easy to know who it was. Though Adrien wondered at the scoop of what looked like raspberry ripple. It looked just like one of the cravats his father used to favour, but he wasn't wearing it now.

He hadn't in fact ever since he'd finally reached out to Adrien. It didn't make sense that it was the version of his father who hadn't moved on who André had given Nathalie. Maybe Ladybug and his father were right. Making this ice cream man just put the combinations together he wanted. Maybe there was no magic.

"Thank you," Nathalie said. "Let's go."

His father stomped his way back to the house and Adrien just did not get it. No one was saying he didn't love Adrien's maman. And he'd been looked so concerned for Nathalie after his akumatisation. He didn't know how he could treat her like this, react like this now.

"Adrien," he father said suddenly, "go find us napkins. There's some in the kitchen. Nathalie and I will meet you in the garden."

He did as he was told but his father must have misjudged because Adrien was still in earshot when he heard him say, "this means nothing."

"If you say so Gabriel."

"Don't."

"I thought you asked me to call you that."

"You know," his father said, "if I was to believe in this rubbish then that cone of yours would say you still loved me."

"Does it? Or does it say that I loved the man you were."

"You're not-" his father suddenly broke off, "oh god. You are."

"Using that is cheating." Nathalie said.

Adrien frowned and peeked out the door but he couldn't see what "that" she was talking about. It just seemed to be his father and Nathalie holding nothing but their ice creams.

"But then," his father's hold on his ice cream was tight, and Adrien feared he break it, "no. No no, these things can't be real. That's just coincedence. Yours being right doesn't mean mine is."

"Thanks for making it so clear to me," Nathalie says sounding like she's making a company annoucement, "I always wanted to hear you tell me I'm not good enough for you."

His father suddenly burst out laughing. The ice cream fell from his hands to the floor.

Adrien stared in horror. This wasn't even cruelty from his father. There was no taunting in his laughter, it was all hysteria. He looked insane. Possessed.

"You think that's the problem," he said, "oh the things I could do to you Nathalie. They'd make you blush."

"Monsieur Adrien could hear you."

"I told you not to call me that." He grabbed her arm, and Adrien almost throught he was going to kiss her from how close their faces were, "don't you get it Nathalie? I could kill that man for giving me that ice cream today. I could have had this weeks ago and- and things would be different. But he gave it to me when it's too late. When I don't have the time left to-"

"Adrien," Nathalie hissed. "He might still be in the kitchen."

His father let go of her and straightens up. "It doesn't matter. This changes nothing. The only way out is the way it always has been."

Adrien didn't understand. What way out? Why didn't they have time, Nathalie's illness? Or something else?

"You should clean up that mess." Nathalie's eyes flicked to the split ice cream on the floor, the mess that had been supposed to be love for her her, "I'm going to go out after Adrien."

Her words had his feet moving, terror at getting caught moving him despite his broken heart. Something was very wrong, but all he was sure of was that them knowing he'd heard would only make things worse.

[mournersandfunerals]

Alice Oseman's Solitaire is a very important book and here's why:

A lot of the time when mental health is being depicted in fiction, it centres so much around the person struggling with it. Which, of course, makes sense. It's important to show what people go through when they suffer from mental illnesses, and it helps others in similar situations know that they're not alone in dealing with it. But it isn't very often you see something from the perspective of a friend or a relative and what they go through when someone they care about is struggling. Solitaire is a book that's so important for this specific reason.

Here, you have Tori. A teenage girl who spends 50% of her time worried about her brother, Charlie, and the other 50% of her time trying to convince herself that she isn't worried about him. She puts so much pressure on herself to keep everyone's heads above water that she doesn't realise that she, herself, is starting to drown. Their parents don't know how to handle everything that's going on with their son, so they act like everything is fine, relying on Tori to be the problem-free "normal" one. That's a lot of pressure to put on your 16/17 year old daughter. Tori takes on the responsibility of keeping her family happy and together, which ends up having the opposite effect and drives them further away from each other. So now you have two siblings that are so near but not within reaching distance when they need each other the most.

Which leads us on to the themes of guilt within the book. This is something that is so well executed and hard-hitting and absolutely crucial.

Tori is someone who feels a lot of guilt and regret when it comes to what Charlie is going through. She feels partially responsible for everything that happened to him. It's not her fault in the slightest, but when someone close to you is hurting and struggling, and you notice but don't do anything because you don't know how, it takes its toll. A lot of the pressure that Tori's under comes from the crippling guilt that she's trying to hold in. It manifests itself into something entirely different. She suffers with anxiety, she has negative thoughts, she hyperfixates entirely on solving the Solitaire mystery so she has something to do while her family is barely holding it together. She spirals.

And what's super interesting about this is how Charlie has a similar reaction at the end when he eventually comes to terms with the fact that his sister isn't okay, either. He mentions how he noticed but didn't do anything, and he feels awful about it. The Spring siblings have a remarkable way of avoiding what's right in front of them because who in the world would want to admit that their brother or sister is the opposite of okay?

And to add to this, I think we really need to note the importance of Michael Holden within this entire situation as well.

Michael is there for Tori consistently. He shows up when she doesn't even realise she needs him, he comes back whenever she pushes him away, and it's almost as though he's her only form of stability within the chaos. And that's exactly what she needs. She doesn't know how to handle what she's feeling about her family so she's pushed everyone else away. She needs someone.

Because it's so easy to ignore the state of your own mental health when someone you love is going through hell. So now we have Michael, a character who essentially says, "I'm here. Let me worry and look after you, while you unwittingly take on the weight of the world." Of course, Michael has problems of his own but if he and Tori can share their burdens between the two of them, maybe the weight of all of it won't feel so heavy.

Alice Oseman created something so underrated and special with Solitaire. It tackles things that can be difficult to talk about but need talking about. It reminds you that it's okay to not be okay. You shouldn't feel bad about feeling bad. And just because someone you love is struggling, it doesn't mean that you're entirely responsible for them. It doesn't mean that you're not allowed to grieve and be upset about it. And it doesn't mean that you're not allowed to struggle through your own issues either. But it does mean that you can find your own support system and let them pull you out of the metaphorical and, I guess in this instance, literal fire that's burning around you.

[shiorimakibawrites]

Idea: A Brand New Ending (Kin)

This is my rough notes for this fic. Subject to change. Any suggestions or input you would like to contribute are welcome.

Probably spoilers for Kin

(tagging @bellaxgiornata and any other Kin fic writers out there)

Pairing: Michael Kinsella x Reader

Title comes a quote of uncertain origin: No one can go back and make a brand new start, but anyone can start from now and make a brand new ending.

You are half-Irish on your mother’s side.

When you were young, your parents died suddenly. You were taken in by your aunt and uncle who lived in Dublin, a couple houses down from Michael and his family.

AUNT and UNCLE can’t have kids and treat you like their own daughter.

Uncertain if your aunt and uncle are involved in the Kinsella criminal organization or not.

You are at least one year below Michael in school and develop a crush on the older boy. These feelings are returned and eventually you start dating. At some point, you give your virginity to Michael.

Something breaks you apart –

(1) AUNT and UNCLE either don’t approve of your relationship with Michael and/or having sex outside of marriage, and decided to move away to keep you away from this boy and his bad influence – maybe there was a pregnancy scare or an actual pregnancy but you ended up miscarrying.

(2) They find out about Bren’s disgusting habits toward young girls – maybe he molests you – and UNCLE and AUNT move away from Dublin to protect you from Bren (doesn’t trust the police in this matter for whatever reason – either they are criminals too or just thinks Bren has connections that would get him off).

Has sporadic contact with Michael afterward but the timing never seems right.

He is either having an affair with his brother’s wife or has gotten married to WIFE and has a little girl or is in prison for accidentally killing his wife.

You try to move on but your romantic relationships are all disasters in some way. Some better (perfectly nice guy but you are hilariously incompatible) than others (at least one was abusive)

Sometime during Season 1, you run into Michael again. One thing leads to another. In the morning, you are naked in his bed. Part of you wants to stay but something important comes up and you must dash off

Maybe AUNT or UNCLE has an emergency – become very ill or fell and broke their hip or had a stroke or a heart attack. Something very serious that eats up your attention for a while.

When you start getting sick, you think its stress. It’s not. Either by condom failure or birth control failure, you find yourself pregnant (again?). You know Michael is the father – you haven’t had sex with anyone else in over a year.

You try to tell Michael but ended up intercepted by Amanda. Who acts like herself and convinces you don’t really mean anything to Michael (“He just got out of prison. He’d fuck anyone.”) and certainly doesn’t want anything to do with child you are carrying.

Maybe its stress or hormone or anxiety or your self-esteem being in the toilet but you believe her lies and return home in tears.

You refuse to tell AUNT or UNCLE who the father is but all or most of the pregnancy but they eventually learn it.

Michael finds out when

(1) AUNT or UNCLE goes down to Dublin themselves to tell Michael off for his treatment of their niece. Michael is understandably confused, then gobsmacked.

(2) AUNT or UNCLE has some kind of relationship with Birdie and complains to her.

Maybe Birdie saw your conversation with Amanda – close enough to know she said something that had you running away in tears but not close enough to hear what was said. Maybe tried asking Amanda about it but obviously not cooperative, might be self-righteous about running off the interloper (you).

Not sure if he finds when you are still pregnant or shortly after giving birth to the twins. Yes, twins – a boy and a girl.

[ssadumba55]

Sixth Spirit (Mentor!Elsa x Fem!Niece!Reader)

Request: Hi,so I was wondering if there was a thing that could write. So I read Being Kristoff and Annas Daughter and I was wondering if you could do a full story with 1000+ words. Like they have a daughter and when she turns 13, she starts displaying stuff and before that, Elsa has a dream of there being another spirit, a spirit that is one with al lelements but is most strong in dark and light, goes with being able to bend it. Daughter gets freaked when this happens,and they seek help, which they find in the boy that she has been bethrothed to, and he is the only way she keeps in control. Elsa mentor stuff.Ty!

Elsa was trying not to panic, but that’s always easier said than done. Ever since she’d had that dream it’s consumed her waking thoughts. She paced the floor, caught up in her thoughts until she feels a gentle hand on her shoulder.

“Elsa, if the dream is worrying you this much, maybe we should go see your sister-”

“She has enough to deal with, ruling the kingdom, raising (Y/n). Why worry her over a silly dream? We don’t even know if it will come to fruition, I’ve never had dreams that tell the future before…” She rubbed her arms, trying to calm herself down but the uneasy feeling refused to chase itself down.

Honeymaren wasn’t convinced, she could tell this dream was eating Elsa up from the inside but she was strong. She’d never admit it.

The two sat in silence for a while. The uneasy feeling seemed to grow in the silence between them, but neither wanted to address it.

Finally, Elsa got to her feet. “Perhaps you’re right though, even if I don’t want to burden her with my problems, in the past Anna has always played a big part in helping me figure these things out. And even if she offers no assistance, it will be nice to see my niece again.”

There was a determined look on her face, the kind of look she got when she was resolute in her decision. It was nice to see a little of the regular Elsa after she’d been stressing for weeks, consumed completely in her own anxieties. 

She bid Honeymaren good night, after promising she wouldn’t leave the next day before she was able to be seen off. Returning to her own space for the night, she didn’t actually end up sleeping but it was nice to worry and stress in peace. Tomorrow, she’d see her sister and figure out this dream once and for all. Tonight, she decided as she settled in for the night, she could rest easy knowing a solution would soon be worked out.

Meanwhile in Arendelle, there was quite a stir being made. The princess was turning thirteen years old and there was to be quite the party for it. Not only was everyone excited to celebrate the princess’ birth, but tonight would be the first night she would meet her betrothed. The prince of the Southern Isles, the union was supposed to form an alliance between the two kingdoms and finally put to rest any ill will between them caused by Hans many moons ago.

Although Queen Anna and King Kristoff were firm believers in true love and the power it possesses, they were also realists who had to do the best for the kingdom. All things aside, the prince was said to be quite a catch, a gentleman and it stood to reason that the two might eventually fall in love anyway. If not, Anna always reasoned they could call off the betrothal. But for now, keeping the peace and upholding tradition seemed to be the way to go.

(Y/n) certainly never complained. Maybe it was because her head had been filled with stories of true love since she was a child, or maybe she was just very open minded, whatever the case she was eager to meet the prince. Even if they didn’t immediately hit it off and fall in love, surely he would provide decent companionship. It was hard for a princess to make friends. There was no one in the castle her age and the townsfolk were nice, but they would never understand the struggles and day to day issues a young princess had to go through.

A prince was a worthy friend, which is why she was currently pacing her room, fretting over what she would wear. There were a lot of options and she was freaking out. Maybe a little more than she needed to.

“Mom!” She called down the hallway, desperate for some aid from someone other than her servants. They only told her what she wanted to hear, she needed someone to tell her as it is. But it seemed the Queen was currently occupied with something else because there was no reply from the rest of the castle.

She began to pace once more and her servant, a kind lady named Lucille bowed her head. “If you give me a moment, princess, I can go find the Queen for you and bring her back.”

“Would you, please? I could really use her help! Thank you so much, Lucille. I’m sorry for being such a hassle.”

The woman chuckled as she made her way to the door, shaking her head. “You’re never a hassle, princess. This is nothing your mother and her mother never had to deal with. It’s the curse of royalty, I’m afraid. Too many clothes, never know what to wear.”

She left the child alone in her chambers to continue to pace while she waited. After dressing, she’d have to worry about her hair and then she needed to find the perfect shoes and the party was starting in an hour so if she wasn’t ready by then guests would start to wonder-

As her thoughts began to spiral, the lights in the room flickered. Too consumed in her own mind she didn’t notice until too late every lamp in the room turned blindingly bright and promptly went out. The young girl shrieked, now standing in pitch darkness in her undergarments.

The sound of the door opening a moment later startled her and tears began to slide down her cheeks.

“(Y/n)! (Y/n)? What happened? Why is it so dark in here?” 

The sound of her mother’s voice was a relief and she waited as someone scurried about relighting the lights in the room. When the light had returned, she realized her mother and Lucille weren’t the only ones who had come. Her father, probably hearing her shriek, was standing in the door looking slightly breathless. And at her mother’s side was-

“Aunt Elsa!” She squealed, running to hug her. Momentarily the fear she had just felt was forgotten as she hugged her aunt, not having expected her to come all this way just for her birthday. She was a busy woman, after all, her mother constantly reminded her. Being a nature spirit was hard work and demanded a lot of attention.

Her aunt's arms wrapped around her and she was momentarily shocked by how cold she was. It was funny, sometimes she did in fact feel warm and other times, she felt cold as ice. Usually when she was upset or excited and unable to control her powers.

Kristoff cleared his throat, clearly still worried. “I heard you shriek though, is everything alright?”

Suddenly, all at once the memories of before came rushing back, startling the poor princess. She looked around the room searching for something that could’ve made the lights react the way they did, but save for the occupants in the room now, nothing was out of place.

“I was just… worried about getting ready for the party and suddenly the lights went out…”

The adults all exchanged looks, but their expressions were unreadable. After a few moments, Anna and Elsa stepped into motion helping the young girl finish getting ready while Lucille and Kristoff returned to the hustle and bustle elsewhere in the castle.

Neither Anna or Elsa said anything as they helped her get into her dress for the evening’s festivities. It was quite obvious, however, that they were thinking something as they shared looks over her head out of eyeshot of the teenager.

There was so much going on though, that eventually the two sisters settled into helping out and forgot all about the weird occurrence. After all, it was a one time thing, right?

As (Y/N) would soon find out, this was in fact wrong.

The prince she was to be betrothed to would be arriving to the party late. The Southern Isles were a great distance from Arendelle, so it was to be expected that they wouldn’t arrive exactly on time but the longer he took the more nervous the princess became.

It started as little things, the lights flickered, the water in her cup danced, the plants decorating the ballroom seemed to move as if on their own… It was only once her water cup completely froze as she stood watching her parents dance did she realize that all of these things were related. Even worse than them being related though, they could all be traced back to her. She was the origin of them.

She dropped her glass on the table as if it were hot coals. Beside her, Aunt Elsa raised an eyebrow.

“I- I need some air…”

“(Y/n)...”

“I’ll be back I swear!”

She collapsed on the fountain in the courtyard, stomach dropping. No one else was around. Studying her hands, she reached a tentative finger out to touch the water in the fountain. It froze under her touch, in much the same way her aunt’s powers did.

No matter how hard she tried though, unlike her Aunt Elsa, she couldn’t unfreeze it. The more she panicked, chest tightening, frustration building the more things around her started to go haywire. The lanterns that were lit blinked and flickered, the trees and bushes moved, a wind was starting to pick up.

“I hope it’s alright, your aunt told me I might find you out here.”

All at once everything stopped, returning to the way it had been forever. All except the fountain, of course. She turned, surprised that someone else was here.

He stepped up to the fountain beside her.

“I’m William. You know, of the Southern Isles. It’s a pleasure to meet you…”

He was handsome, it reminded the girl of the stories her mother and aunt used to tell her about how her parents had met. A man named Hans, broad shoulders, fiery red hair, a kind smile. She could see some of him in William. The hair, the broad shoulders. That’s where the similarities ended, after all Hans was his uncle. Not closely enough related to actually contribute to his genetics. Most of the family must have red hair and broad shoulders.

As if suddenly remembering her manners, she performed a clumsy curtsy.

“Princess (Y/n) of Arendelle.”

“Happy birthday…” He smiled awkwardly. The two teens fell into an uncomfortable silence. He pointed to the fountain after a few moments. “Did your aunt do this?”

Elsa’s reputation preceded her. Almost everyone who knew of Arendelle knew of the magical once queen who could create ice and snow. The young princess didn’t know how to respond. This was supposed to be a boy who would be her friend, on one hand she didn’t want to lie to him… on the other hand, would he want to be friends if he knew what she could do? What she had only just figured out she could do?

She painstakingly wracked her brain for the right answer.

“Promse you won’t tell anyone?”

“I’m really good at keeping secrets.”

She studied his face for a hint of the deceit that his uncle had once shown her mother, but she found nothing. Well, there was nothing really to lose from this then anyway.

“It was me. I think I’ve got my own set of powers, they’ve been causing me trouble all night. I didn’t even realize it was me until… just now. I froze the fountain… but I can’t figure out how to unfreeze it.”

William didn’t seem the least bit fazed. He leant over the fountain, touching the ice with his fingers, thoughtfully.

“Well, how does your aunt do it?”

“I don’t know, I never asked her.”

Gently he placed his hand over hers, meeting her eyes to make sure it was alright before placing her hand on the ice. She had never really been this close to someone her age before, the thought made her feel a little warm. One day, if she chose to, she might end up marrying him. When she’d first heard of the idea, she’d been a little skeptical albeit excited for a friend. Now though she could see it. His hand was sturdy, guiding.

“Look!” He cried out in elation, and it was only then that she realized she was no longer touching ice under her fingers but water. The water danced and moved a bit unnaturally under her fingertips. “How are you doing that?”

“I don’t know!” The two teens sat and watched the water under her fingertips for a few moments. It was only after they got over the initial shock of the ice melting that he realized he was still holding her hand. Quickly, he pulled it away, cheeks heating up.

The water stopped it’s mesmerizing dance once he did so and the sound of footsteps, snapped them both back to reality.

Elsa, Anna and Kristoff had snuck away from the party to check on the princess. And they’d arrived just in time to witness the entire scene of the ice melting. There was more than a little shock. Standing there in the courtyard, Elsa revealed the real reason she had come back to Arendelle, the strange vision she’d had about a sixth spirit.

The sixth spirit could wield the powers of all the elements, earth, air, fire, water and snow, plus the dark and the light. She admitted she’d suspected her niece from the moment the lights had gone out in her chambers hours prior, but hadn’t been for certain until she’d seen the glass.

“I’m a spirit!?” She backed away from the rest of the group. “I can’t control them! I’m dangerous! What if-”

Her aunt gently placed a hand on her shoulder, tilting her chin so she’d look up at her. “My parents, your grandparents, hid my powers. They taught me they were something to be feared and ashamed of. But they’re not a burden, they’re a gift. One you should be proud of. I promise I’ll teach you how to use them properly. Your parents and I won’t let you hurt anyone.”

“This doesn’t change a thing about you, you’re still the same person. And we’ll get through this, as a family.” Anna assured her daughter. There was assent from Kristoff at her side.

Behind them, William cleared his throat. The small family had forgotten he was even there, he had blended so well into the background. “If I may, I would also like to stick around and help. If that’s okay.”

She looked around at all the people she cared about, even if one was a work in progress. With people like this by her side, she realized, the journey would still be a long one but she could face it. She definitely wouldn’t be doing so alone.

“Come on, there’s still a party and powers or not, you’re still a birthday girl. Tomorrow, we can get down to business.” Elsa guided her niece back in the direction of the castle. William grinned.

“If you’re up for it, I could go for a dance.”

“Alright, but be warned, I have two left feet.”

Elsa watched as the prince guided the girl to the dance floor, their animated chatter could be heard even through all the hubbub of the party around them. Kristoff crossed his arms over his chest.

“They grow up so fast don’t they?” He asked, the tone of a bittersweet father watching his baby grow up.

“Yeah… They do.” Elsa smiled.

As the girl apologized profusely for stepping on her suitors toes for the third time, much to his amusement and delight, she couldn’t help but be thankful. She had been given the miracle and gift of guiding someone along this wonderful path, her niece wouldn’t be alone like she had. She’d be surrounded by people who loved her, cared for her.

And when the time came, she’d make a wonderful ruler of Arendelle, just like her mother before her. Elsa was sure of it.

[coraniaid]

OK, some final belated thoughts on Season 3 before I move on to something new.

At this point, it doesn’t seem very controversial to suggest that the show often handles Faith’s killing of Allan Finch less than perfectly.  In particular, I think it’s a real shame that the writers either forgot (or just didn’t care?) that Giles himself once accidentally killed a man, especially as they did remember this fact  last season, when it was Buffy who thought she’d killed a man.  

(And though I defended – and will continue to defend – Buffy’s actions re:Ted when I talked about the eponymous episode of Season 2 in the rewatch last year, I do think they are harder to defend than what Faith did to Finch in Bad Girls.  Yes, Buffy had grounds to think Ted was a threat to her, but she also thought he was a human, and she hit him anyway.  She didn’t hurt him by mistake.  In the heat of the moment, Faith really did believe that Finch was a vampire, which – in the setting of the show, in the immediate context of the episode – was a pretty reasonable assumption to make. Lunging at an armed stranger in a dark alley probably wasn’t a very smart move on the part of the late Mr Finch.)

So it’s a little jarring when, in Consequences, Angel starts to give Faith the big “I too, know what it’s like to deliberately kill people for fun: it was addictive and I loved doing it” speech.  Faith’s dismissive reaction – “sounds like you need some help.  A professional, maybe.”-- is, on the evidence so far, surely entirely justified.  At this point in the show, it is Giles, and not Angel, who Faith is most similar to.  It feels rather like the writers are trying to force a comparison that – at least for now – simply isn’t there.  

Especially since the way Consequences is written it seems clear we’re meant to think that this speech is somehow “getting through to” Faith until Wesley’s ill-timed interruption.  Only … why would it be? Angel’s problem – a love of murder for the sake of murder – and his solution to that problem – getting cursed with a human soul – are both entirely meaningless to Faith, who already has a soul and has not in fact demonstrated any interest in murder for the sake of murder.  (And who might be claiming not to feel bad about Finch’s death, but must be on some level if Buffy’s intervention on her behalf makes any sense.)  

Faith is not Angel.  Not yet, anyway.

(That being said, there is another reading of the show where Angel isn’t getting through to Faith at all, but only convincing her that she needs to try to become more like him, especially if she’s going to win over Buffy.  I’m not at all sure that this is the reading intended by the writers, but I think it fits the evidence a lot better than the other reading at this point.  You can quite easily read Faith’s arc in the last third of the season as a deliberate – and not quite unsuccessful – attempt to remold herself in Angel’s image: to become somebody who really wouldn’t care about killing a human being by mistake, and who might even enjoy doing it.  And I do think that Angel’s second big attempt at connecting with Faith a year later, for all that it treads a lot of the same ground, makes a lot more sense in context.)

On the other hand, I think the show should get a little more credit for the conscious Buffy and Faith parallels than I sometimes see it given.  

Just as sometimes people point out that the show presents Angel behaving in some rather disturbing ways in Season 2 (“falling in love” with a teenage girl after driving past her school and catching a glimpse of her, for instance) without acknowledging that the show is – at least intermittently – very aware of this, I think people who defend Faith by saying that Buffy has also killed things that look and act like people are missing the fact that this is a tension the show is very conscious about.   I think Buffy’s many nights spent indiscriminately slaying demons and vampires is something the show definitely wants us to think about.  By this point of the show, we’re clearly not meant to be entirely okay with all the death Buffy herself is responsible for..  

(Sometimes I see the suggestion that Buffy is different from Faith because she only kills vampires and demons who are an imminent threat to human life or trying to hurt people, but that is simply not true.  Buffy patrols cemeteries in the middle of night – cemeteries notably lacking in casual passersby – looking for newly risen vampires to stake before they know what’s happening.  She attacks demons on sight – or at least, she does until the show decides some demons are okay, which is something that only starts to happen this season.  In the original conception of the show – from the era of the Master and Luke and the Anointed One – we’re just not meant to think that proactively killing vampires could ever be a problem.)

When Buffy confronts Faith for the last time in Graduation Day she asks her something.

“What's the matter?  All that killing and you’re afraid to die?”

How are we to interpret this question under the old rules of the show?  At this point of the story, Faith has killed exactly two human beings: Allan Finch (by accident!) and Professor Worth (admittedly not at all by accident).  At the risk of being a Faith apologist (which, well, I guess is what I am, but...), the phrase “all that killing” hardly applies here, does it?

… unless, that is, you count all the various vampires and demons that we’ve seen Faith kill recently (including the demon in Enemies who tried to sell her the Books of Ascension, a demon whose killing definitely appears to bother Faith at the time and to disgust Buffy when she finds the body).  Faith certainly has killed enough of them for the phrase “all that killing” to apply.  Bur crucially, so has Buffy herself.  (She’s killed far more of them, in fact.  As Faith told her at the start of the season, she’s been doing this the longest.)

So I think we’re meant to understand Buffy’s question in the Season 3 finale as part of a conversation with herself that started in the Season 1 finale Prophecy Girl and will continue all the way to the Season 5 finale The Gift (and arguably beyond).  That’s why Faith exists in the narrative in the first place, after all.  Not to be a version of Angel, but to be a version of Buffy.  A reflection, a mirror, a shadow.  Somebody Buffy was, and is, and might have been. It’s what Faith has been arguing all season (“anything I have to answer for, you do too”, she insisted to Buffy in Consequences), and something that – to people other than Faith – Buffy has already admitted (“She had it rough,” she told Willow in Doppelgangland, “Different circumstances, that could be me.”).

So let’s talk a bit about some other versions of Buffy, and try to place this question in its proper context.

The Buffy of Prophecy Girl told her Watcher that she was still a child (“Giles, I’m sixteen years old…”) and that she didn’t want to die.  Her reaction to learning what would happen to her if she faced her destiny was to beg her mother to take her out of harm's way ("Mom, let's go away ... anywhere ... Mom, please"). Years later, the adult Buffy of The Gift will tell that same Watcher that she doesn’t see the point of going on in a world without her mother, a world where “everything gets stripped away”.  Later still, she’ll tell her sister that living is “the hardest thing in the world” and then voluntarily jump to her own death rather than lose another family member.  “Death is [her] gift”, as that season will keep reminding her.

And halfway between these moments, in the Season 3 finale, we have a Buffy who is only on the cusp of becoming an adult.   A Buffy who has died once, but “only for a minute”.  A Buffy who just sent her mother away from danger because she couldn’t save the world while worrying about her, where the younger Buffy had instead pleaded with her mother to protect her.  

This Buffy looks at her fellow Slayer – at somebody who she knows she could have been herself, at somebody who is not just her narrative shadow but a living reminder of the fact she’s died once and it maybe wasn’t quite that bad, at somebody like her who kills vampires and monsters and maybe enjoys doing it a little too much  – and it’s easy to imagine her confronting her tearful younger self in the school library again, hearing the prophecy that her calling as a Slayer will end with her own death.

“What’s the matter?”, the older Buffy asks her younger self bluntly.  “All that killing and you’re afraid to die?”

[ninacytosis]

For the time lost

Summary: Zuko wants to erase every reminder of his past mistakes, and Katara will take him on a journey to, quite literally, heal both of their scarrings.

Contains: Angst, Fluff, Katara has burns scars from Aang's first attempts to firebend, Katara tries to get over her resentment towards the FN, Zuko doesn't hate Azula.

Dear reader: I hope you enjoy it! <3 Let me know if you want me to continue posting.

Find chapter one here.

Find chapter two here.

┊┊┊┊☆┊*🌙*┊☆┊┊┊┊

Chapter Three

To Katara’s surprise, his scar looked pretty much the same as before. After greeting her, she got a look up close and searched for a different color, texture, or size. Maybe it was smoother? Her thoughts kept meditating on this new information while she followed Zuko through the palace.

Zuko stopped walking and turned to her. “You're so quiet today... Not complaining, though" he smirked.

The place was a bit different from the last time Katara visited. The walls, once filled with portraits of the former Fire Lords, were left with paintings of birds and rodents; some pieces were pale and ill-looking, and, to her surprise, others were unbelievably adorable. Every part of the palace seemed to be made with such delicacy, it made her wonder how much respect people had for the royals. The marble floor felt like floating through the hallways.

“How old is this place?” she asked Zuko.

“Maybe two hundred years old” he replied, with a doubtful tone. “But every now and then it got redecorated. My mom was really into gardening, so there were a lot of floral decorations until I was like twelve.”

“I guess you’re into hawkpards” she smiled. “I’ve seen like five paintings of them so far”.

“Oh, yeah… We got a lot of those in the back garden. Oh, I got to show you the turtleducks in the front!” He grabbed her shoulder. “They’ve grown so much since you last came”.

They both rushed to an open space in between the castle. It wasn’t a front garden technically, but Katara didn’t want to ruin the moment. He was so excited to take her there. And the turtleducks were beautifully bathed in the golden sparks of the setting sun.

“The little ones were born by the end of autumn”.

Her eyes followed the furry little guys as they approached Zuko’s feet. He seemed annoyed, yet patient, while their little peaks pinched his pants. He proceeded to sit down and surrender to the attack. Now the turtleducks looked at him expectantly, Katara guessed that they were pet recurrently by him.

“No treat today,” he said, in a high-pitched voice. “But we got visits. Greet Katara!”

She chuckled. Zuko’s silliness always got to her, she could tell he was comfortable if she paid attention and saw through all his awkwardness. The water that had golden sparkles some minutes ago, was now in a purplish tone, the sky was getting darker. Two guards walked in their direction with small lamps in their hands. She imagined they lit them up themselves. How cool that must be.

“The visitor’s room is ready, my Lord” one pointed out.

Katara guessed both the guards were about thirty. By the looks they gave to her, she guessed they still weren’t used to having waterbenders around. To even see them as allies. She tried to convince herself some progress had been made. Some years ago, it was hard to tell if the Fire Nation guards saw her as human. Now they’re just weirded out, she can’t really blame them. She’s feeling odd herself, trying to turn off her flight or fight mode. Trying to hold eye contact with them, because she doesn’t want to seem snobby. Trying to look at Zuko, to remember nothing bad will happen. Weirdness is progress. Weirdness is not cruelty.

“I’ll take her, thanks for letting me know” he replied. “You can go now”

With a small flame in his hand, he led her to one of the upper floors. It was a pretty place, but it felt so empty. All she could hear were their steps and the whispers of the guards. Probably they talked all night to avoid getting asleep.

"My Lord" she tittered.

"Oh, shut up" he sighed. "I can still hear Toph laughing about it."

They arrived at her room. Katara noticed a penguin plushie on her mattress. She turned to Zuko and scrunched her face. After seeing her funny covers and blue walls, she realized what he was trying to do.

“I thought it would feel more like home” Zuko whispered. “Is it too corny?”

“I love it” she giggled.

“Come here” he asked her. Katara walked to the window and saw the moon rising from mountains.

“Now, that’s too corny” she mocked. “Thank you, I feel like I’m royalty too”.

“Well, technically you are a royal of the Southern Water tribe” he squeezed his eyes.

She rolled her eyes. If she was a princess, her “castle” was a giant whale skeleton. But she couldn’t complain, it felt more sacred than most homes. And it showed her people’s historical resilience, something that would transcend centuries more than her desire for a fancier house. For a second, she feared she spent too much time in her mind and ignored Zuko’s presence.

“We’re such a diplomatic friendship” she whispered. Zuko laughed, still looking through the window.

“You know, back at the garden, I noticed you were a bit shaky” he admitted. “Can I ask you something?”

“Sure” she nodded.

“Do you find it scary to come here?”

“Of course not” is what she would’ve answered to most people. Four springs have passed since the war, and even in the war, she wasn’t the type of person to hide from Fire Nation guards. It would be unlike her to fear a threat that it’s not even there. And as much as it didn’t make sense to her or anyone else, she felt her heart race when a guard looked at her for a little too long, she lost her breath when a firework sounded a little too loud. She was afraid.

“I… think so, Zuko” she answered. “Sorry if it sounds ungrateful, I don’t mean to show prejudice towards your people. I bet your guards are highly honorable and your friends here are nice. But it’s hard to see these walls and walk through this city without getting a bit sappy, you know?” she sat on the floor. “I think that’s why I usually don’t come here often”.

“I know what you mean. Well, that’s one of the reasons it’s so hard for me to go to the South” She leaned her head. “I’m ashamed, for my nation, my ancestors’ actions, and my own. I see all the empty houses and the little kids in your town and it makes me feel so unworthy of being a king.”

He covered his face with his hands and sat next to her, both on the cold wooden planks. Katara caressed his hair, gently, not really sure how to say what she thought of Zuko. At least, she didn’t know how to deliver it in a way that convinced him that he was a good person. A compassionate, caring, noble person. She put her head on his shoulder.

“You are not your father, Zuko” she mumbled. “And the Water Nation’s door will always be open for you. Not only on the North, by the way”.

“About that… I know all these traveling to the North might seem weird to you”.

“You’re Zuko, you’re always weird” she bumped his arm.

He disapprovingly shook his head.

“Anyways, I thought I should tell you I went there to get rid of my scar” Zuko stood up. “I’m so tired, you probably are too. I’m going to my room.”

“So you’re just gonna drop that bomb and leave?” Katara raised her eyebrow.

“We can talk tomorrow. I promise” he walked to the door. “Good night, Katara.”

[louiseintrees]

Everything is Temporary, And This Was Just One of Those Things.

“Alex, you know this can’t go on.” She said weakly, so tired of arguing and trying to fix something that was long broken.

“But-…” He wanted to say something, like ‘I can change,’ or ‘I’ll find the time,’ sincerely he would do whatever it took, but she was tired of that promise not being fulfilled.

“Alex, it’ll be alright. You’ll find someone who can deal with this life, who will love as much or more than I could or can. She’ll be beautiful, and you’ll be perfect. Like a beautiful painting you stop and look at in a museum. It’ll be okay.” She spoke.

She tried her best to let it out and convince him, maybe even convince herself. She felt like this was a good idea. Like this was the right thing to do for their problems. There were no ill tidings implied, it just wasn’t working. So, in her mind the best option was to let rest. Let it go.

But this was not the case for the slightest with Alex. She was his best friend before anything, and he could handle you not being his girlfriend, no matter how much that would hurt, but what he couldn’t handle was her not being in his life. He had never considered leaving the band seriously ever, but in this moment he would smash his guitar to bits, and rip out his larynx if it meant she’d stay. That’s all he wanted, he wanted the lovely girl who cared for him, who loved him more than she loved herself to stay. To be with him forever. To grow old with. He didn’t want some other girl, he wanted her. He was madly in love with her, so madly in love. But like what we see now he couldn’t save it, he couldn’t have what he wanted.

“I don’t want another girl, I want you.” He cried holding onto her waist, scared she would leave him at any moment.

His words broke her heart. This was right, right? She kept asking herself that, if this was really the right thing, why did it hurt so badly. This was the worst pain she had felt, and it wasn’t even physical.

“But she’ll love you like I did. And that’s enough.” She spoke, her whole body aching in pain as she felt like she was ripping her body from him in the literal sense.

“No, no, don’t leave.” He crumbled, he was nothing but crumbs that were left on a plate to be washed away in a sink.

Tears pouring from his eyes profusely, each one falling to the floor where they stood. It looked as though he could fill each and every ocean over and over with them. He could hear his heartbeat in his ears and he felt nothing but sadness and synonyms for it. He doesn’t know how he’d live without her. The bed would be so cold, his hands forever empty, his lips left untouched, his body left un-hugged, and his brain left with nothing but the memories of her, that now we’re bittersweet.

“Alex, I have to-”

“No, you don’t. You don’t have to leave. You never have to. You feel like you have to. But I can’t stop you, and-…you wouldn’t care if I tried. What will I do without you?” His words so fragile, like they would break if he said them wrong.

“You’ll do what you always do.” She spoke softly.

“But I always love you. You’re in my mind everyday, every hour every second, down to the smallest measurement of time, you are always on my mind. I can’t continue life normally without you.” He spoke trying to get her to stay no matter how much he knew if was impossible.

“Then I guess life won’t be normal, and I’m sorry, but I can’t stay.” She insisted.

“At the least please don’t leave without a goodbye.” He begged.

“I would never dream of it.” She smirked, causing a small ever so slight perk of his lips.

He kissed her, desperately but gentle. He didn’t want it to end but his lips eventually found themselves away from hers. He wanted to kiss her again, he wanted to kiss her everyday of his life but now he has to live with that one being the last one. He pulled her into the tightest hug he could give. One of those born crushing ones. But when they pulled away it hurt. It hurt that this was the last time he’d look into those eyes and see his lovely girlfriend staring back at him. Now, it would simply be a beautiful stranger who held a lot more history than he could admit.

Then she looked at him one last time with a weak smile and let him go. She walked away from him and he watched her go to the door and open it she was only a few feet away from him and she said,

“Goodbye, Alex. Good luck with everything.”

“Goodbye.” He choked out trying to smile to make her feel better about going.

He watched her weak smile fall when she turned and she closed the door, for the final time.

And Alex fell to his knees and curled himself up against a wall into a ball and wept. His tears fell heavily, not even thinking for a moment about stopping. So much time was ticking by and he spent it crying and choking on his breath. And eventually he exhausted himself and fell asleep. His eyes were read and a small puddle formed on the floor around his face, but at least he didn’t have to feel that pain for a moment.

He still loved her, he will always love her.

[elenasalvatore94]

Against All Odds

Summary: Emily, a brilliant engineer, and Lando, a rising star in Formula 1, navigate the intense world of motorsport while battling personal demons and unexpected challenges. Warnings: bad language, smut, anxiety diasese.

Warnings: bad language, smut, anxiety diasese, mental illness.

Chapter Two: Cracks Beneath the Surface

The British Grand Prix was fast approaching, and the McLaren team was deep in preparation. Emily had been working tirelessly, her days stretching into nights as she fine-tuned the car's performance. But as the days wore on, the familiar heaviness in her chest began to grow. The weight that she had managed to keep at bay after her unexpected conversation with Lando was now returning with a vengeance, creeping into every corner of her mind.

She had always been functional despite her depression, able to compartmentalize her emotions and focus on the task at hand. But lately, it was becoming harder. The once comforting routine of her work was starting to feel like a burden, and every day was a struggle to get through.

Emily found herself withdrawing even more, avoiding the team whenever possible. She would slip into the garage early in the morning before anyone else arrived and leave late at night when the place was deserted. Her colleagues noticed, but no one said anything. After all, she was still delivering results, and in the high-stakes world of Formula 1, performance was all that mattered.

But Lando noticed. He had always been observant, and over the past few days, he couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off with Emily. He watched her from a distance, seeing the way she seemed more tense, more closed off than usual. It intrigued him, and he couldn’t help but be drawn to her. There was a mystery there, one he was determined to understand.

It was a Thursday, two days before the race, and the team was going through their final simulations. Emily was at her desk, staring at the screen but not really seeing the numbers. Her mind was foggy, the data blurring together as exhaustion and despair gnawed at her. She hadn’t slept well in days—every time she closed her eyes, the weight of her thoughts kept her awake.

She rubbed her temples, trying to focus, when she felt a presence beside her. Glancing up, she saw Lando standing there, concern etched on his face.

“Hey, Emily,” he said softly. “You okay?”

She forced a smile, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “I’m fine. Just tired.”

Lando didn’t seem convinced. “You’ve been working non-stop. When’s the last time you took a break?”

Emily shrugged, turning back to her screen. “There’s too much to do. The race is in two days, and I need to make sure everything is perfect.”

“Yeah, but you’re not a machine,” Lando said, pulling up a chair and sitting beside her. “You need to take care of yourself too, you know?”

His words were kind, but they only made her feel worse. If only he knew how hard it was just to get out of bed each morning, how she felt like she was falling apart at the seams. But she couldn’t tell him that. She couldn’t tell anyone.

“I’m fine,” she repeated, her voice a little sharper than she intended. “I just have a lot on my mind.”

Lando didn’t push, but he didn’t leave either. He just sat there, watching her with those sharp, perceptive eyes. Finally, he spoke again, his tone gentle. “You know, it’s okay to talk to someone. About whatever it is that’s bothering you.”

Emily’s heart skipped a beat, panic rising in her chest. Did he know? Had he seen through her carefully constructed façade?

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said quickly, her voice tight.

Lando sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Maybe you don’t want to admit it, but I can see it, Emily. You’re not yourself lately. I don’t know what’s going on, but I’m here if you ever want to talk. No pressure, no judgment.”

Emily felt a lump form in her throat. No one had ever offered her that before—someone to talk to without fear of judgment. But the idea of opening up, of letting someone see the darkness inside her, was terrifying.

“I appreciate that,” she said finally, her voice barely above a whisper. “But I’m fine, really. Just… let’s focus on the race, okay?”

Lando nodded, though he didn’t look entirely convinced. “Alright. But don’t forget what I said, okay? Anytime.”

Emily nodded, grateful for his understanding, even if she couldn’t take him up on his offer. As Lando stood to leave, she found herself speaking before she could stop herself.

“Thank you, Lando. Really.”

He smiled, a warm, genuine smile that made her chest tighten with a strange mix of emotions. “Anytime, Emily.”

As the race weekend drew closer, Emily’s depression deepened. The gray cloud that had been looming over her now felt suffocating, and it was getting harder to breathe, harder to think. She went through the motions at work, but everything felt distant, like she was watching herself from the outside. The world around her moved at lightning speed, but she was stuck in slow motion, struggling to keep up.Lando continued to watch her, growing more concerned with each passing day. He noticed the way her hands trembled slightly when she thought no one was looking, the way her eyes seemed duller, more tired. He tried to engage her in conversation whenever he could, but she always kept it brief, never letting him get too close.It was frustrating. He wanted to help, but he didn’t know how. And the more he saw her withdrawing, the more he worried that she was slipping into a place she couldn’t come back from.

The night before the race, Lando found himself pacing outside the hotel, unable to sleep. His thoughts kept drifting back to Emily, and the way she had looked earlier that day—so fragile, like she was about to break. He knew it wasn’t his place to pry, but he couldn’t just do nothing.Before he knew it, he was walking toward the team’s section of the hotel. He knew Emily’s room number—he’d seen it on the rooming list earlier—and his feet carried him there almost on their own. He hesitated outside her door, suddenly unsure of himself. Was this a bad idea? Would she even want to see him?But then he remembered the look in her eyes that afternoon, and the decision was made. He knocked, softly at first, and then a little louder.

There was a long pause, and for a moment, he thought she wasn’t going to answer. But then the door creaked open, and Emily stood there, looking even more exhausted than before. Her hair was tousled, and she was dressed in an oversized hoodie and sweatpants, a far cry from her usual professional attire.

“Lando?” Her voice was surprised, almost bewildered.

“Hey,” he said softly, his heart aching at the sight of her. “I’m sorry to bother you, but… I just wanted to check on you.”

Emily blinked, clearly caught off guard. “I’m… I’m fine. You didn’t have to—”

“I did,” Lando interrupted gently. “I couldn’t sleep, thinking about you. I’m worried, Emily. You don’t have to talk to me if you don’t want to, but… I just needed to make sure you’re okay.”

Emily’s lips trembled, and for a moment, Lando thought she might cry. But she quickly composed herself, taking a deep breath. “I’m sorry, Lando,” she whispered. “I didn’t mean to worry you.”

“You don’t have to apologize,” he said, stepping closer. “I’m here because I care. I know we don’t know each other that well, but… you don’t have to go through this alone.”

Emily looked at him, her eyes filled with a mixture of pain and gratitude. She opened her mouth to speak, but the words wouldn’t come. Instead, she just nodded, stepping aside to let him in.

“I’m sorry,” Emily said again, her voice breaking the silence. “I’ve just been… struggling lately.”

“You don’t have to explain,” Lando said softly. “I can see it. I just want you to know that you’re not alone, okay? Whatever it is, you don’t have to carry it by yourself.”

Emily nodded, tears welling up in her eyes. For so long, she had carried this burden alone, convinced that no one would understand, that no one would care. But here was Lando, offering his support without expecting anything in return. It was overwhelming, and for the first time in years, she felt a crack in the walls she had built around herself.

“Thank you,” she whispered, her voice trembling. “I don’t know what to say…”

“You don’t have to say anything,” Lando replied, reaching out to gently take her hand. “Just… let me be here for you. Even if it’s just sitting in silence.” For the first time in a long time, she felt that maybe she didn’t have to face this alone. Maybe, just maybe, there was a way out of the darkness.

[victoria-daydreams]

The Hare and The Tower

Chapter Eight: Wifely Duties

AN: Y'all I went on vacation and I'm not going to lie, this story was the last thing on my mind, but I'm back and on winter break so maybe I'll be able to squeeze out another chapter soon! Again, thank you, thank you, thank you to everyone who support this fic.

Trigger Warning: age gap, vomiting

Word Count: 2.4k

Taglist: @dogmatic255 @amethystwonders11 @sidechrisporn @helloimlateforeverything @ladysindar @sweetwanderlust05 @newandykes @loveofvernonslife @stitchattacks @dariequeen @kishie8 @girlonfireice @snowymarvel1205

If you want to be added to the taglist just leave a comment.

Summary: A strange illness has stricken Jesmyn with no end in sight, until a visit by the maester changes everything.

Chapter Nine: Most Wondrous News

116 AC, Westeros

The first time it happened, she was peacefully asleep in her shared chambers. There was a chill in the morning air when she awoke from her deep slumber feeling sick. Jesmyn had felt strange since the week had began anew, but this particular day she just felt plainly sick. Groaning softly, she rolled over intending to nestle further into Otto, who she quipped as being her personal hearth. However, those plans changed the moment she shifted in bed, her stomach violently churning in protest to the sudden movement. Jesmyn scrambled out of bed and bolted for the chamber pot. She got up so fast, she accidentally struck her husband with the heel of her foot.

"Jesmyn?"

She fell to her knees, barely making it to the pot when she emptied the contents of her stomach, awkwardly crouched on all fours. She hunched forward, retching a mouthful of bitter, yellow bile. Suddenly, she felt her hair being pulled back and a strong hand rubbing her back. Jesmyn looked up momentarily, her vision was blurred from the water in her eyes, but she recognized Otto’s figure before returning to her puking. He whispered comforting words into her ear, attempting to soothe her as she continued to dry heave long after she stopped vomiting.

When finished, Jesmyn was left leaning over the bowl, gasping for breath. Her hands shook. Her whole body trembling as she took deep, slow breaths through her nose.

"Easy,"

A few minutes passed before she was able to sit up. Using the the corner of her sleeve to wipe her mouth, Jesmyn leaned against her husband who wrapped his arm around her and she looked up at him. A concerned expression dotting his features.

"What’s wrong, my love?" Otto asked, moving his hand to her forehead. “Have you a sickness?” he questioned, pressing his fingers against her skin.

“No, I'm fine Otto. Dinner just didn’t agree with me it seems," she replied hoarsely, swallowing a few times.

With her arms still shaking slightly, Jesmyn pushed herself to her feet, using a nearby counter to steady herself. Briefly, her limbs gave out on her, but Otto instantly caught and steadied her, his arm still around her waist.

"Let’s get you back in bed, and I'll stay—”

"No!” Jesmyn said firmly. “You’re The King’s Hand,” she reminded. “You have duties which you mustn’t abandon because I am unwell,” she stated, shaking her head.

"I woke up to the sounds of my wife retching into a chamber pot. That isn’t something I can ignore,” he insisted, his blue eyes pleading with her to let him help.

Jesmyn, however wasn't going to give in so easily.

“King Viserys needs your guidance, Husband. I'm fine, I told you its something from last nights supper," she reassured, despite the thought a having a day with Otto completely to herself sounded absolutely heavenly.

"Nothing that transpires in the realm is more important to me than your well being," Otto said gently, moving one of his hands to cup her cheek.

The tenderness and concern in his gaze was almost enough to shatter her resolve. Almost.

"There's no reason for you to stay and tend to me, Otto," Jesmyn said, desperately trying to convince him she was well. “I’m alright, truly," she added, taking his hand in hers. "How about this?” she proposed. “If I can hold down breakfast then you tend to your duties as Lord Hand. If I can't, then I promise I shall go back to bed," she promised, searching her husband's eyes as he contemplated the option.

"Fine, I agree, but you must promise me to take care," he stressed, staring reluctantly down at her.

"I promise," she smiled standing on her toes to kiss his cheek.

~~~x~~~

It went on like that for nearly a month and a half, almost every morning she'd feel ill just after waking. Certain smells and tastes made her stomach churn. She would be fine one minute, then the next, she would run straight for the chamber pot. Gods, what the hells was wrong with her? Things that had never sickened her suddenly made her want to hurl. With every occurrence of her temporarily falling ill, she would dismiss it knowing it would soon pass, despite Otto's worried stare.

A new day had dawned in Westeros and the morning sun was high in the sky, bathing the solar of the Tower of the Hand in light. The only sound in the airy space came from silverware dragging against plates and the smooth flow of conversation between Otto and Jesmyn. They were both underdressed, Jesmyn in only a golden night dress and jade green robe which clasped together in the middle. Her hair, loose and tousled from sleep, had been tied in a plait. While Otto, was clothed in a white nightshirt also wearing a green robe.

"Alicent would like your company today," Otto informed, spreading some jam on his toast.

"Does she?" Jesmyn asked, before sipping orange juice from a polished chalice.

"She wishes to make up the time you two lost during your little quarrel,"

"I would hardly call our quarrel 'little'," she said, chuckling slightly.

The juice had barely slid down her throat when Jesmyn began to feel a familiar sensation which had been plaguing her of late. It was starting again. She inhaled deeply, attempting to ignore the sickness in her stomach. Placing her chalice down, she closed her eyes taking a few deep breaths. It wasn't working though, her stomach was pitching and roiling worse than the waves of the sea. Discreetly, she rested a hand on her stomach.

"Jesmyn?" Otto called, his voice snapping from her thoughts. "Are you well?" he asked, sounded concerned.

"Yes…" she answered slowly, her stomach clenching.

Fighting the constant ever present nausea which lurked in her belly since she'd started getting sick, was a slow, uncomfortable ordeal which she wholeheartedly could live without. The back of her throat burned as bile began to well up.

Otto frowned, "You don't appear to be," he countered, placing his utensils down. "Dear," he called, his voice strained. "I can see you're not feeling well. Please let me help you,"

Jesmyn opened her mouth to respond, but the queasy sensation became suddenly too much. Abruptly, she rose out of her chair, the legs harshly scraping against the floor. Feeling the hot bile rush up the back of her throat, she reached the pot just in time to purge her stomach.

"Jesmyn?" Otto called, his footsteps following his alarmed voice.

She felt his hand on her back, while his other, which was well practiced by this point, quickly grabbed her hair and held it away from her face.

He shook his head, "It's no longer up for discussion, you're going to see the maester today," Otto stated firmly, leaving little room to argue.

Which led to Jesmyn’s current predicament. Standing in front of the maester, she patiently waited for him to finish his examination.

“Do you feel any tenderness here my child?" he questioned, lifting her breast.

Jesmyn frowned slightly, feeling confused and uncomfortable as to why a breast examination is needed for a stomach illness. Although, now that she thought about it, her breast have been more tender than usual.

"I do Maester," she answered.

"And sickness, have you had any?"

“Constantly,”

"Any problems with food?"

"Aye, some of it makes me want to empty my stomach,"

The maester nodded along and she shivered as his hands felt her stomach and pelvis, before he told her she could get dressed.

She looked up as he approached her.

"Maester?"

"When was the last time you bled, Lady Hightower?"

"Pardon?" Jesmyn asked, her brows high

Momentarily, she was stunned by the question, but mentally shook free of her stupor. Confidently, Jesmyn was about to answer the week before, but stopped herself when she realized that couldn't be right. Her mind went over the dates and realized it was far longer. She couldn't recall. The last month was a blur. The maester smiled, as if expecting Jesmyn’s silence.

"Well, Lady Hightower, this should be a happy day for you and your husband,” he stated. "Congratulations my lady, you are with child," the maester informed, dipping his head.

"Child?" Jesmyn echoed, the word coming out as soft as a prayer. "Are…are you certain Maester?" she asked, her eyes beginning to water.

"Aye I am, I would say you’re some weeks in, at most. Maybe two months,” he said, packing his things. “Good day, Lady Hightower,” he wished.

~~~x~~~

“How are you feeling, Jesmyn?” Alicent offered her a cup of tea. “Father told me you took ill again this morning and he summoned the maester,” she said.

Sunlight poured through the window of Alicent’s personal chambers. The rays striking Jesmyn on the side of the face as she sat at table for tea. Due to her sickness, Alicent opted for the two of them stay indoors.

“I am fine,” she nodded, smiling weakly and accepting the cup.

“Are you? You don’t look it,” Alicent stated, blowing on her tea. “What was the maester’s diagnosis?” she questioned curiously.

Jesmyn could feel the back of her neck heat up. She was apprehensive about telling her friend she was carrying her father’s child. Alicent already semi knew too much about Jesmyn’s and Otto’s sex life as it was. She didn't know how Alicent would handle the news of becoming a step-sister. Jesmyn began to wonder if she should wait and tell Otto.

“Well?” Alicent said, her looking at her expectantly.

"I…I am with child,” Jesmyn informed, swallowing nervously.

Alicent froze mid sip, her body stiffening like a statue as she blankly stared at her. The only signs of life being her blinking eyes.

“What?”

"I'm pregnant." Jesmyn repeated, her nervousness compounded by Alicent’s reaction.

Alicent placed her porcelain cup down and stood quickly from her chair. Jesmyn’s heart sunk, she figured the news would be too much for her, they had only just rekindled their friendship. She raised from her chair as well, biting the inside of her lip in disappointment. The young Queen’s eyes bore into hers.

“Alicent?” Jesmyn uttered timidly.

In a few, short strides Alicent wrapped her arms around Jesmyn and hugged her tightly, causing her eyes to widen in surprise.

“This is wonderful news Jesmyn!” she said happily. “I know you and Father have been for trying for so long!” she added excitedly.

“You're not angry?" Jesmyn asked hopefully.

Alicent pulled back from their embrace, her eyebrow raised.

“Angry? Why in heavens names would I be angry?" she asked in disbelief. “You’re going to be a mother, and I a step-sister!” Alicent said, a jovial laugh bursting from her. “Don’t you see, our bond will only grow stronger now!” she said, sliding her hands down Jesmyn’s arms and grabbing her hands.

“That is a relief,” Jesmyn said, exhaling deeply with a smile.

“How far along are you?” Alicent questioned, placing her palm against Jesmyn’s flat abdomen.

“The maester said two months at least,” she answered.

“Have you told Father?” Alicent asked, lifting her gaze from her stomach.

“No,” Jesmyn said, shaking her head. “He’s in a council meeting, Alicent. It would be foolish to disturb—”

Alicent gasped loudly, “Nonsense!” she exclaimed, shaking her head. “This is momentous, Jesmyn! I cannot believe you’re telling me first,” she said, chuckling with disbelief.

“I plan to tell him over supper,” Jesmyn informed. “I want to make it special and memorable, but I’m not sure how,”

Alicent took her hand in her own again, “Oh please, you must let me be of service,” she begged, a beaming smile on her face. “I want to feel useful outside of being a caretaker and mother,” she added.

“And useful, you shall be,”

~~~x~~~

"Dear me," Jesmyn began, setting her tablecloth down. "I might need to have stitches loosened in my gown, this meal has left me quite full," she joked.

It was later that evening, once again her and Otto sat across from each other in their private dining chambers. Candles were lit, servants were coming and going, carrying wine and food until she dismissed them for the night. Jesmyn took another sip of her wine and then refilled her glass. She held the wine carafe up to Otto and raised her eyebrows, and he lifted his glass.

"I’m amazed your stomach has been agreeable for supper," he said, as Jesmyn got up from her chair. "Did the maester give you something to calm it?" he asked curiously, his eyes following her.

"He did," Jesmyn answered, filling her husband’s glass.

"And?"

"Fortunately, this illness is temporary," she informed, drawing the pitcher back and setting it down.

"Keep it simple," Alicent's voice echoed in her head.

"Good, good," he replied, covering her hand with his. "What remedy did he give you?" Otto asked, stroking his thumb across her knuckles.

"Tis excellent news, Husband,” Jesmyn answered, smiling at him. She took his hand and pressed it against her belly, spreading his fingers out. “I am with child,” she announced, laughing lightly.

He stared at her, shocked for a moment before his face spread into a large smile. His happiness shining in his eyes making Jesmyn’s heart soar with delight.

"You're pregnant?" Otto echoed, a broad grin covering his face.

"I am," Jesmyn confirmed, mirroring his expression.

Otto hopped up from his seat and within a blink of the eye, Jesmyn felt herself being lifted up into the air and spun around in a circle. Warm laughter filled the air and when he put her down again, Otto cupped her face and descended his lips on hers for a kiss. His arm rested on the mid of her back as he pulled her closer to him. A soft moan came from Jesmyn as their lips moved in perfect sync.

Otto withdrew from her lips after a few moments had passed, peppering with kisses all over face. Glancing up to meet his stare, Jesmyn’s cheeks flushed at the intensity of his gaze.

"I’d suspected," he began, his lips against hers as he brought his forehead down on hers. "I recognized the symptoms, but I didn’t dare hope," he continued, his voice shaking with excitement "We're going to have a baby," Otto finished, kissing her happily.

"I will bear you a son who is the spitting image of his father," Jesmyn promised, and her husband’s hands found themselves on her stomach once more.

"There is no need for such promises," Otto said, gently rubbing her abdomen. "For I will love the child if it is either a son or daughter," he whispered softly.

Chapter Ten: Leave it to The Gods