#like there are some aspects of the story that makes me tear my hair out
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Sometimes It's Fated (Sandman Short Story Part 6)
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5
GIF: Originally posted by @harleytudinous
Pairing: Morpheus/Dream of the Endless x AFAB reader
Summary: Reader Self-Insert. After restoring the Dreaming and locating the missing dreams and nightmares, Morpheus turns his attention to finding you, the human he believes fate has chosen for him. (Title inspired by Placebo's "This Picture".)
Warnings: Minors DNI. Dark!Morpheus. Soulmates. Angst. Obsessive and possessive behaviour. Nudity. Language. Mentions of sex.
Word Count: 2.8k
A/N: Hello there! We're back in Morpheus' POV for this chapter. I've really enjoyed exploring the softer side of Morpheus with the aftercare but still keeping that foreboding undertones. Hope you like it too. Let me know what you think! All my love, Saskia xx
Sandman Masterlist
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Morpheus can see he has pushed your body to breaking point.
The only movements you are able to make are those that are involuntary. The intake of breath, sharp and shallow. The blink of eyelids, slow and drowsy. And the aftershocks feathering along the walls that still hug his softening cock.
The rapture of his own high vibrates in every cell, the humanoid form he takes being the epicentre, with waves of it expanding out across the expanse of the Dreaming, bathing it all in euphoria. He smiles faintly - anyone asleep during your union would have been privy to it in some aspect. Flashes of noises and sensations perhaps, or images of you entangled with him.
With a tender gaze, he looks at your exhausted form. He takes time to notice the details that others might have overlooked. The gradient of the dip of your navel. The vellus hair gracing your skin. The delicate lines on your face brought on by years of smiles. Every inch of you is perfection, the starshine streaming down enhancing your already incandescent air. Soulmate or not, you are the most remarkable person he has met.
There is no denying that you are to be his muse. Now that he has introduced you to his world he can resume work on creating new dreams, and your temperament and features are inspiring him already. His dreamers will be spoiled once the concepts are given life and sent forth into the Dreaming.
He is pulled away from observing your body by the sudden overflowing of silent tears. In the glow of the room, as they track down your cheeks, their lustre is like pearls washed up on a lonely seashore.
He's searching your expression for an indication to the source before they get close to wetting the sheets, cupping your face instinctually as feverous fear infects him. Is pain afflicting you?
His initial assessment gleans that they are falling despite there being no tangible signs of pain or sorrow, anger nor disgust. Further investigation is required.
He drops his register to the mellowest he can manage, whispering your name first, next asking, "Are you alright?"
You dip your chin in a solitary nod. A truthful nod.
You then take a deep breath, voice hoarse as you speak, "I just -"
Words fail you and you look down at your chest in lieu of finding the desired descriptors, hoping that he would catch on.
Your soul.
You make a little high-pitched sound in the back of your throat as he places a palm over its housing. Still very sensitive. With good reason.
Those last layers of defences that had been protecting you from the intensity of the soul bond had been steadfast in their resistance. Of course, they were never going to prevail over him, being the Endless that he is, yet the challenge could not be denied.
And now the conquest was over. He had you exactly where he wanted; physical form in the Dreaming, the Fates' prophecy fulfilled, soul tie complete.
He zeros in on your soul, using his aptitude for the metaphysical to see it in its actual form. The ball of light, two centimetres in diameter, that not too long ago was shattered, now criss-crossed with threads of rich blue, reminiscent of Kintsugi pottery. A mark of the small amount of his power - power that he'd quite literally fucked into you, that was slowly spreading out from your soul through your body, altering as it went. Only time would tell as to what enhancements it would bring if any.
His own soul was cleaved open at the end too, now infused with your essence; twines of seafoam green that he can feel rebalancing the constitution left so weary and depleted by his imprisonment.
It also appears that your mortality has been removed in the process; you are as eternal as he is now. He's against broaching this with you presently, feeling it would be misguided to do so. At this point in time you deserve the most diligent and gentle aftercare. It was your first time; you had trusted him with your wellbeing and that meant the moments after as well.
He will make his touches and movements so very delicate from here, continuing to keep his focus on your facial expressions and body language as much as possible.
Beginning with how he rises out of the position he had held over your body, giving him the ability to ease your crossed ankles out of the firm grip around his waist. Reluctantly, he withdraws himself from the warmth of your core, more trembles breaking free from the fluidity of the movement.
It makes you whimper loudly, the unintended stimulation and the way he guides your legs down to the mattress, as the recognition of how locked up your thigh and calf muscles are bark in your nerve endings.
"Would you allow me to clean you?" He asks, gesturing to the fluids that are now leaking from your cunt.
You seem surprised yet you agree nonetheless.
He conjures a bowl of water and a linen cloth, setting the former to the side of your right hip. The display has you propping yourself up on your forearms, fascinated by the shaping of form that comes so naturally to him. He moistens the fabric, pitter patters emanating erratically as he squeezes out the excess.
"I will stop if it is too much." A promise made while holding eye contact before beginning a gentle yet meticulous cleanse, re-dunking the cloth when needed.
Aside from a couple of flinches early on when he brushes over your clit, you cope with the touches very well, and Morpheus shows he acknowledges this in the murmured praises he looses with the completion of each swipe.
A stumble in your breathing has him stopping immediately though, drawing his attention to your startled face, eyes wide as you take in the pinkish tinge of colour in the water.
"Shit. I'm so sorry. I can finish taking care of it," your voice is warbled as you try and fail to close your trembling legs.
He puts a steady hand on your knee. "You have no reason to apologise."
A little dimple forms between your eyebrows, lips pulled thin by a grimace; evidently you are unconvinced.
"I want to take care of your needs. Please let me," he says with gentle candidness.
You blow out an unsteady breath as you struggle to look at him, attention darting all around the room, actively choosing to go anywhere but towards him.
These hallmarks of humiliation, vulnerability, they unreservedly rile him. Who had made you feel like this was unacceptable? No doubt your world's societal norms. Though Morpheus has seen improvements in them in recent years, there are lingering, foolish ideals on what was decorous when it came to the human body.
He relays his thoughts on the matter, "It is a natural occurrence, as natural as any other bleeding from broken skin. There is nothing to be ashamed of, Y/N."
He lets the reassurance settle in as he rubs his free hand up and down the outside of your left thigh.
"You know I speak the truth," he adds when you still remain silent.
Eventually you let your head slump back. "You're right."
His chest swells with pride at his successful reframing. "May I continue?"
You make a noise of affirmation.
Once he is done, the bowl and cloth de-materialise along with the patches of fluid that had been glistening on the sheets.
He leaves the space between your splayed legs, pausing as he kneels next you. You look like a ragdoll that has been dropped from a great height, limbs askew and head limp. He wishes to scoop you into his arms and re-arrange you, cocooning your beautiful body in the most luxurious fabrics his mind can create. So he does just that.
With a hand flat between your shoulder blades and another under your knees, he moves you to lay further up the bed, fashioning a sumptuous silk sheet to settle over you, a twin of the one tucked over the mattress. A knitted cashmere throw weighs down the sheet to seal in warmth. The last step is a plump pillow; he cradles your head carefully as he positions it.
"Thank you," you say shyly as he puts his head on an identical pillow, laying on his side so he can watch you.
"You are most welcome, my soulmate."
A beat. "Is there something I can do for you, Morpheus?"
He feels a thrill go through him, lust rising once more. Hearing his name on your lips is everything. Undoubtedly it always will be. He's instantly grappling with the urge to fuck you again and it is by sheer force of will he just manages to leash his lust.
"All I require is proximity to you," his words sounding much more gallant than he feels.
With visible effort, you roll onto your side, intent on providing him with delightful closeness despite the aches. Face to face, he decides now is time for a debrief.
"Is there anything you wish to discuss about the acts we performed together?"
You fiddle with your fingers, tentatively asking, "Did I do okay?"
The question is so endearing, it makes his chest tighten.
"Yes. You were, are perfection."
He catches the bashful glance your throw towards him and he draws even closer.
You had done so very well, taking everything in your stride since he found you in the waking world. Gone through a myriad of emotions, dealt with intense, sometimes painful physical reactions. And the sex... Well.
He runs a hand from your temple to jaw a few times to distract from the ever-mounting desires, thankfully taking the edge off with the affections.
"It is true. You are so trusting, communicative, generous. Receptive."
You huff out a noise of amusement. "How do you know that I wouldn't respond like that to everyone?"
Possessive jealousy drives a dagger into his heart, stiffening every part of his being, hackles rising as the sickening idea of anyone else touching you takes form in his expert imagination. Your question had been teasing - obvious from the impish quality in your eyes yet he cannot stop the rage that flares at the idea.
He extinguishes his temper, pushing it into the usual spot deep within, speaking with a level and authoritative cadence.
"You were not meant to be touched by anyone but me."
He holds your gaze resolutely, fascinated by how your pupils dilate from the covetous statement, fingers digging into the softness of your behind to add further weight to his claim.
"You derive pleasure from hearing me say that."
"Yes," you confirm, a telling half-smile appearing. "Though it would appear I am not the only one."
You nudge against the growing erection hidden by the sheets with your knuckles. The simple touch is a catalyst, his restraint almost breaking, eyes shifting to match the backdrop of the night sky above you both.
"Not right now," you assert.
His answering glare makes you raise your eyebrows. But you do not back down.
"Very well. I will keep myself contained. For the time being."
You press a sweet, quick kiss to his cheek. "I appreciate you enduring such hardship."
You laugh a little at the end of the teasing sentence. It is an effervescent sound, one that makes him feel so alive. When was the last time he truly felt like that?
He would do anything to keep you laughing like that, make you happy.
Inspired by that sentiment, he drapes an arm over your body and pulls you closer. You sigh in contentment, smiling warmly at him.
A crescent moon rises to accompany the stars in the ceiling sky. The slip of light it reflects is as peace-giving as your skin against his. Quiet descends.
Finally - after the frenzied events of the past couple of hours, the delirium that had ensnared the both of you in body and mind, spurring him to reveal the truth to you and initiate the binding of your souls - finally everything stills.
And in this stillness, after a considerable number of minutes, Morpheus begins to register the results of the soul bond between you; a direct line broadcasting your every emotion to him even though you are awake.
They are not particularly stable right now, kaleidoscopic in how quickly they evolve from one to the next. He is accustomed to knowing humanity's emotions, exposed to every facet of them for millennia yet this is different. With the dreamers there is a certain level of detachment. Being his soulmate, the impartiality is gone.
He is peering around the curtain.
And the emotions you are feeling are about him, directly influenced by him.
Exhilaration, fondness, trepidation, pensiveness.
His eyelids flutter at the intimacy, mouth dropping open with a shaky sigh.
"What is it?" You ask immediately as worry enters the mix. How adorable that your reflex was concern for him.
"Our soul bond is strengthening. I can feel your emotions."
You blink, stimulated by the notion first, then disappointed. "I can't feel anything coming from you."
"Give it time," he reassures.
"How much time?"
A little smile quirks his lips from your charming impatience.
"A few hours. Perhaps more."
Curiosity dances in your eyes as well as your mind; you study him closely, teeth nibbling on your bottom lip. "What's it like?"
"It is quite diverting."
In fact, it is the sort of thing that has potential to consume his every thought. He will have to be cautious of how much time he is dialled into the bond. As long as he makes the rules now then he will be okay. No over-use. No over-reliance.
A brush of fingers across the back of his hand, the inside of his wrist. "Tell me what you're feeling, Morpheus," you whisper.
He pulls himself from the compelling information flowing from you and takes a reading of his own internal state.
It's tempting to lay it all on the table. To tell you of the powerful emotional reactions happening. But he won't. The emotions must be compressed into something more regulated. He chooses the words carefully:
"I am wholly contented."
Joy and relief swirl from you and you kiss him. The softness of your lips help soothe the fierce feelings and when you part, Morpheus is fully reigned in.
He notes that your eyes are drifting now, glassy with oncoming sleep.
He rubs a thumb across your cheekbone.
"It is okay if you want to fall asleep," he murmurs. "My only request is that you permit me to hold you, so I may monitor how things progress."
There is much acclimation to be made. The scalding heat that had been rampant under his own skin has only just dropped to a simmer, let alone all the things to come. He must not leave your side until your body has adjusted to the energy within you.
"I wouldn't say no to sleep," you say with a lethargic smile.
He eases you into a nearer proximity. An arm slung across your middle. Legs tangling together. You nuzzle against the skin of his neck, inhaling deeply as if his scent could knock you right out.
"Good night, soulmate."
He kisses the top of your head, replying with the same.
You place a palm over his soul. "Thank you, Morpheus. For answering all my questions and being so patient with me."
"It is the least I can do, Y/N."
Morpheus keeps still as you sink into subconsciousness. Not a hard feat for him; he mastered that art long ago. Crossing the threshold into sleep is smooth for you, exhaustion efficiently picking the lock.
Morpheus keeps still as you sink into subconsciousness. Not a hard feat for him; he mastered that art long ago. Crossing the threshold into sleep is smooth for you, exhaustion efficiently picking the lock.
As soon as you are fully under he peers at you, cheeks already rosy from the warmth of the sheets and his body, lips parted. You appear serene on the surface - he decides to lean into that link one last time for tonight.
Yes. There it is. Evidence that you feel safe and happy. He has done his job well. Now to maintain this level of performance. For your sake as well as his own.
Your presence is the first rain after a drought. A lighthouse on a treacherous stormy night. You are an antidote to a poison that he hadn't realised he was choking on. You are healing him, just as he knew you would.
And there are measures that must be taken to keep it that way.
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Tag list: @herfantasyworldd @kpopgirlbtssvt @littleblackcatinwonderland @1950schick @lollipopsandlandmines
"Controlling my feelings for too long. Forcing our darkest souls to unfold. Pushing us into self destruction. They make me, make me dream your dreams."
#the sandman#sandman#the sandman netflix#the sandman 2022#morpheus#morpheus x reader#morpheus/dream#morpheus/dream x reader#lord morpheus#dream#dream x reader#dream of the endless#dream of the endless x reader#dream smut#sandman smut#dream of the endless smut#dark morpheus#dark!morpheus#the endless#the dreaming#soulmates#angst#smut#tom sturridge#the sandman imagine#the sandman fic#the sandman fanfiction#fanfic#saskia writes sandman#Spotify
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tbh as a six fan i feel so bad for thirteen fans
bc there are a lot of thirteen fans who are willing to defend shitty writing and poor decisions bc thirteen's their favourite doctor and there's no other way to say she's their favourite bc thirteen has only been off the air for 2 years at this point. thirteen also has the bonus problem of being the first female doctor which means a lot of her criticism is clouded by misogyny and other icky incel alt right shit
meanwhile with six, a lot of his problems had the benefit of the wilderness years, big finish, the expanded universe, and even people looking back at his doctor and realising that there was some good in his episodes. a lot of his fans didnt become his fans until recently and even most of his haters are quite clear that they hate the writing decisions and not the actor himself
like until jodie gets some good material - maybe big finish? theyre doing fugitive doctor and dhawan master stuff that might improve the problems with those - a lot of thirteen fans are going to be clutching at straws and trying to figure out why they like her and how to say so in a way that won't upset the predominantly male fandom, as well as won't disagree with common and very bloody obvious criticisms of chibnalls era
#dnr#dni#this might show up in the tags anyway oops :(#my main issues with the chibnall era comes in the form of the writing#like there are some aspects of the story that makes me tear my hair out#why do we have three companions - two of whom are poc - when we're just gonna focus on the white man#better still why does the female doctor have three companions#better still why does only graham get characterisation#the entirity of kerblam is just one long hate crime imho#rosa is... fine:tm: but the line where yaz defends the police to ryan when hes understandibly#talking about his issues shouldve been cut out#tbh chibnalls idea of politics was basically 'lets present it all on screen front and centre and then never touch on it again'#good work gang hit the showers#now im not saying that you cant like chibnalls era#i personally dont like it and i feel like the bad writing has clouded my interpretation of thirteen as a whole#which sucks#especially as a six fan bc ive been in this boat before where ive seen people disregard him bc#'he strangled his companion!' in one episode#so its more of a i feel sorry for thirteen fans#and tha5min fans like you guys got hella queerbaited
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So I have some Lenore thoughts, I like the idea of her a lot. But I don't think she's worth her price. So here are just some of my thoughts, as well as my doodling out some of those thoughts. I don't think she necessarily needs all these things, it's more that I let my internal rants about how she could be better guide me out of my art block these past couple days.
Part of why people pay more for collector dolls is because they have some type of attachment to them. Either being a Monster High character they already love, from an IP they love, or even the Off White had some brand recognition. (just not from me) And I felt like Lenore COULD have been the lady in white/weeping woman ghost story that just about every town has.
That being said- What is with the glitter tears?? If she had a unique sculpt that actually had a downturn on the brows and a sad face, and actually LOOKED like a weeping garden ghost, that alone would have made her more appealing!
Then why unpainted accessories? Why one big unpainted accessory her main focus? I like the vines (I didn't go very detailed here) but either paint them or make them smaller. (What I did) But if you want me to believe that the doll is WORTH $75 then you need to show that some actual care and effort went into her manufacturing and paint her damn accessories.
I just wanted an excuse to draw the spider. I don't like the human face but I only like a few of any of the MH pets anyway. so...
Put her damn hair up. Just like with the accessories, show me she is WORTH her price.
All of the above combined, the collector dolls stray further away from the High school aspect of MH and although Victorian/period fashion isn't necessarily my thing, I know a ton of collectors would have loved her looking like a ghost who's been haunting for a long time. And since she's not a character that's being portrayed in the high school - a collector doll would have been great! There's lots of adult/non-student characters.
Mini notes- I didn't draw patterns for her clothing, but the pattern on her dress as is would have still looked lovely on a bigger, fancier gown. I didn't do full body and I have no notes on shoes. They're not my specialty. And I would have appreciated her not having a full white sclera.
Also, line art for this piece is available here, tag me if you color it! I'd love to see. ♥♥♥
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*takes a deep breath* AHHHHHDKAJFKSJA
I JUST WATCHED BOY AND THE HERON AND I LOVE IT SM AND IT'S SO GOOD.
So obvs, it's studio ghibli, it's gna be some of the prettiest stuff you've ever seen. So many scenery frames made me think "I'm gna scour the internet for them and repaint them as art practice. It resembles smudgy oil paintings rather than studio ghibli's gouache style (see spirited away, Totoro) but it's honestly beautiful nonetheless, and seeing it on the big screen made me feel like I was in the movie. There's even a stone passage that looks like the one from Coraline. The animation works so smoothly to make the film an overall wonderful immersive experience.
The character design was so good. You have your classic ghibli, countryside, apron wearing girl. Your boy with spiky hair. And probably the best addition of a butch seafarer, Kiriko, dubbed by Florence Pugh (oh my goodness I am too gay for this). The grannies were so inexplicably lovely and visually distinct I just want a hug from them. The wizard (Mark Hamill having this otherworldly yet grounded design and amazing hair. The heron was oddly grotesque without being scary (this is such a gift only japanese have.) and his various designs fluctuate along with the story. I was surprisingly intrigued by the fact that even in crane form, he had human teeth. And ofc THE WARAWARA.
GOSH THEY ARE ADORABLE I LOVE THESE DAMN TAPIOCA PEARL LOOKING THINGS THEY HAD ME SQUEALING IN THE THEATRE EITH HOW CUTE THEY ARE.
The score is beautiful and I dare say that it's on par, maybe even better than the Spiderverse score (and that's REALLY HIGH praise coming from me, I love the Spiderverse score to the point where it's on my Spotify wrapped.) I loved how the use of motifs, especially in relation to magic in the film. And definitely need to go give it more listens. 11/10 would recommend listening to it even outside of the film, it's just that great, give it a Grammy or smth.
Humor in this film is hilarious without being corny. It's very on the nose, what's currently happening in the scene humor. Characters (won't say who) also have amazing dynamics that supply a lot of humor for the film. Obviously we have that last snippet from the trailer and I'll give you this out of context "Mahito's turned into a parakeet"
The story is very easy to follow. The first half of the story is very grounded. And even in the second fantastical half, the visuals and little sprinkles of just the right amount of information help to guide us through the amazing fantastical world. Nothing ever feels too spoonfed to the audience or too overwhelming.
Spoilers below the cut
Character was great too. The main cast each have a very touching emotional aspect and nothing is what it seems, not from the trailers and not even within the show. Characters go on journeys you never could've expected from the beginning of the show. Such as the heron, who I genuinely thought from trailers was gna be the bad guy but turned into a genuine, squat goblin companion. And the parakeet king goddamn I thought he was gna be a good guy with his "we must protect this world" gig, not some giant cannibalistic parakeet with a surprising penchant for sneaking. Anyway, I especially loved how we meet characters almost multiple times with how we're introduced to different versions of them. Kiriko>>>
The moral of this story had me confused ngl, but I'm fcking dumb and need to go read some analysis so ignore this. The main message I got was that "Life is shit. But it's worth living and I can make it better for myself. Through friends, I don't have to be alone through it all" which made me tear up ngl since I've been struggling with life this year and seeing how our boy Mahito went from being a closed off lil squat to that *cries*. Personally I interpreted the great granduncle and his blocks as seeing what's wrong with the system the older generation has built, and demanding more from it/straight up turning away from it. Also Mahito learning to let go of his mom. The pelicans wanting the best for their children and not always liking what they have to do for survival as a link to war soldiers @hamable . I also read from @simplysparrow14 and @rockpaperimpala the film is also Miyazaki coming to the realisation that 'studio ghibli will be his legacy and it will be put to rest, it won't be the same if continued without him and that's okay' and ow I just got hit in the feels.
To summarize the boy and the heron excelled, slaps, is show stopping, brilliant, awesome, a true work of art and soul and 11000/10 go watch it ON THE BIG SCREEN I am not joking.
#ahh i just saw it#it's so good#*cries*#110000/10I love this film#go watch it#amazing showstopping brilliant talented#soulful#the boy and the heron#studio ghibli#hayao miyazaki#art#also it's like 2am here I stayed up writing this
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FREYA (a deity deep dive & some UPG)
⚔️Who Is Freya?⚔️
Freya is a Norse goddess of war, love, beauty, sex, pleasure, magic, and so much more! Its very hard to summarize the extent of her powers, and what knowledge remains of her through artifacts and myths suggests she was once as complex a deity as Odin (bearing many alternate names and ruling over so many aspects of life). I took inspiration from @coinandcandle for the layout of this post. Hopefully that isn't a problem! If I get any information wrong or site sources that someone else discovers to be unreliable, I am open to feedback! Note: some of this is UPG, and I'm very clear when I'm stating UPG. If there's any confusion, feel free to message me!
⚔️Parents & Siblings⚔️
-Njördr (Freya's father, a Vanir god)
-Njördr's Unnamed Sister (Freya's mother, who some scholars speculate is Nerthus, yet it remains a mystery)
-Freyr (Freya's brother, a Vanir god)
⚔️Significant Other⚔️
-Odr (Freya's husband, a mysterious wandering god who is suspiciously like Odin)
⚔️Children⚔️
-Hnoss (Freya's daughter)
-Gersemi (Freya's daughter)
⚔️Epithets⚔️
-Hörn (meaning "flaxen", probably in reference to her hair)
-Gefn (meaning "the giver")
-Syr (meaning "sow" a creature that was associated with fertility like Freya)
-Valfreyja (meaning "lady of the slain", as Freya is the goddess who picks and rules over half the slain warriors in her hall Sessrúmnir, in the field of Fólkvangr.)
-Mardöll (meaning "sea-brightener" or "one who makes the sea shine") Note: I always think of her making her father Njördr proud, as a way of making the sea shine, but that is UPG.
-Vanadis (meaning "Vanir goddess")
⚔️Important Notes⚔️
-Freya is famous for her beauty, and her lavish taste. An example of this is her iconic necklace Brísingamen. She acquired this necklace by sleeping one night with each of the dwarves who made it. In return they made the necklace (which is said to have been gorgeous and forged out of gold with amber beads).
-Something that also confirms that amber and gold are sacred to the goddess Freya would be the story of how she cries tears that turn to gold when they touch the earth and to amber when they fall on the sea. Its important to note that she cries these tears for her husband Odr who has not returned in a long time from his wandering journeys. Below is a picture of the famous artwork that depicts her tears by Gustav Klimt:
-Oh, and Freya rides a chariot pulled by cats. Pretty cool, huh? The original cat lady. Cats are sacred to her, so if you want to honor her be sure to treat feline friends with extra respect and adoration!
-When she doesn't ride her chariot, Freya is said to ride her boar into battle. The boar's name is name is Hildisvíni (meaning battle swine).
-Freya possesses yet another treasure: her falcon cloak. This magical cloak of falcon feathers helps her to fly with the ease of a falcon. Therefore, its safe to say that falcons are sacred to this goddess.
-Despite being a goddess of sex and pleasure, Freya is not easily won over. The myths reveal she wont just sleep with anyone. Many giants sought to steal her away and wed her, yet she never caved and slept with someone she didn't see the benefit in sleeping with. In my UPG, she is a very independent goddess.
⚔️Modern Deity Work⚔️
Correspondences (These are based off of my UPG)
Rocks/Stones/Crystals
-amber
-gold
-falcon's eye (also called blue tigers eye)
-carnelian
-rose quartz
Herbs/Plants
-rose
-cinnamon
-mugwort
-daisy
-lily of the valley
-cowslips
Animals
-cat
-boar
-falcon
-rabbit
-hawk
Offering Ideas
-cinnamon tea with honey
-sweet decadent foods
-pieces of amber
-cat figurines
-jewelry (specifically necklaces)
Acts Of Devotion
-spending time caring for cats
-fighting for what you believe in
-standing up for yourself
-being respectful of your own and others sexualities
-beauty routines
-glamour magic
-learning seidr
-connecting with magic in whatever form feels right for you
-practicing being more loving and compassionate
⚔️Sources⚔️
#freya#freyja#freyja worship#norse gods#norse paganism#norse pagan#norse deities#norse witch#deity devotion#goddess freyja#deity deep dive#mythology
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So I wanted to elaborate on the Mat/Elayne Freyja/Odin parallel, so here’s that essay. For the sake of keeping this post semi coherent any off topic but vaguely relevant ramblings will be at the bottom of the post.
To start I was surprised to find out that while the obvious parallels between Mat/Odin and Perrin/Thor are often noted I haven’t seen anyone mention how Elayne is Freyja, so I’ll start by talking about those similarities. Freyja is a goddess of love and fertility as well as a goddess of death and war, and of course, of the magic practice of Seidhr which I covered in my precious Mat post. Freyja much like Elayne is a twin, having a twin brother(and masculine form) Freyr, the god of peace, fertility and prosperity. Freyr also has a horse cult, for some reason. Freyja of course is the second patron god of Seidhr sharing the role with Odin but she fulfills the more traditional and feminine aspects in a more socially conventional manner. Her husband, is often absent resulting in a particular myth of her crying ‘red-gold’ tears in his absence, her husband, Odr’s name actually means frenzied madness so shout out Rand. Freyja is also often depicted with having red-gold hair like everyone’s favorite Trakkand. She’s also associated with cats and she’s sometimes connected to the Phrygian goddess Cybele, who instead of a chariots drawn by cats has a chariot drawn by lions. Of course the Cybele/Freyja connection is debatable but I wanted to point it out for the lion connection.
Now onto the fun part, Freyja/Elayne and Mat/Odin, let’s talk about that dynamic. So if you didn’t notice Seidhr isn’t the only domain Freyja and Odin share, they’re both also gods of war and death, specifically they’re both gods of glorious death on the field of battle. Half of the slain are taken by Odin to Valahalla and the other half to Freyja’s realm Folkvangr. Now this might be a stretch but the sharing of the dead between Odin and Freyja reminds me of the sharing of The Band and the Dragons between Mat and Elayne in ToM and AMoL. Once again that’s a bit of a stretch but I wanted to point it out. Though I think the Band of The Red Hand is definitely a reference to Odin leading a procession of fallen warriors and the fact that Elayne gets shared custody is something I find very interesting in terms of this parallel.
Odin and Freyja are also both connected to the Valkyries for the above reasons. I think it’s safe to say that Brigitte is a Valkyrie, a spirit of a female warrior who comes to lead the dead to Valhalla and Folkvangr respectively. The fact that Brigitte bonded to both Mat and Elayne(through the horn and through the Warder bond respectively) is something I think proves this connection. Yada yada the Horn of Valere and the Heroes of the Horn are the Wild Hunt which in some stories is led by Odin with a Valkyrie at his side, Mat and Brigitte yada yada.
Also depending on who you ask Freyja is often conflated with Odin’s wife Frigg and Odin with Freyja’s husband Odr so uh- Matlayne
Now how do these connections inform Mat and Elayne’s dynamic. Well for one it explains why they are so heavily linked to eachother, from Mat’s vague connection to Manethran’s King Aemon and Elayne LITERALLY being the Rose of The Sun to Mat and Elayne sharing their weapons of mass destruction with eachother, the two spend a great deal of time with eachother and working together. Much like Odin and Freyja they compliment eachother and work together in their respective domains, whether that’s being a soldier and his Queen or two powerful people sharing battle earned death while accompanied by a woman warrior spirit and legendary procession of long dead heroes. They are complimentary halves and foils to eachother, they of course clash because they are forced to share space(share domains) but in the end they come to an understanding and make eachother stronger through their differences and similarities.
Okay okay tangent time, so I’m really insane about Mat/Elayne’s whole relationship and how Elayne is a thematic character foil to Tuon. Like Elayne is the Rose of the Sun and Tuon is the Daughter of the Nine Moons. The thematic relevance of Mat choosing to stay in Ebou Dar with Tuon vs. taking Elayne’s contract to become an Andoran general, choosing the Moon over the Sun. All I’m saying is that RJ robbed us of the potential Mat/Elayne/Tuon love triangle that would’ve shot and killed me. The Themes, The Character Foils, The DRAMA
Next tangent has nothing to do with Elayne really but was inspired by the previous tangent. So the Seanchen are represented by the night but they are also symbols of death right? Now one of Tuon’s names is Kore which is an epitaph of Persephone and with the death connection and the kidnapping that brings an obvious parallel to the myth of Hades and Persephone. But I’d argue that the story themes put Tuon in the role of Hades rather than Persephone while Mat takes Persephone’s role. I mean wed to Hades(Tuon) and brought into the underworld(Seanchen) only to become trapped there by eating a pomegranate(or accidentally starting a foreign marriage ceremony) able to return home to the land of the living(Andor) but only for short periods of time, all while becoming more than she once was as the Queen of the Underworld(Prince of Ravens). Anyways I have FEELINGS about Mat Cauthon.
#wheel of time#mat cauthon#wheel of time spoilers#minor wot book spoilers#major wot book spoilers#wot meta#long post#elayne trakand#tuon athaem kore paendrag#im so insane over them#and don’t get me started on Mat’s habit of getting damseled
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★༉‧₊˚✧ 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐁𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐊𝐄𝐑 . EPILOGUE .
★༉ SUMMARY. Growing up you were never shown exactly what the correct example of unconditional love, leading you to believe it wasn’t real, and simply did not exist. So why was this kinda nerdy guy making you feel things you never knew existed?
★༉ PAIRING. Han Jisung x AFAB! Reader.
— warnings. fluff. i haven’t proofread this so idk:
— ss count. 2
— notes. & that’s the end!! i’m so happy that i finally got to share this project with all of you who was willing to read. if you didn’t know this fic is severely self indulgent, almost every aspect of the fic has been taken from my life in some shape or form so it is incredibly important to me. thank you so much for reading, and i hope that you can take a lesson from my story, and if not i hope you had some sort of entertainment from it. you are incredibly loved, always remember that!
— notes. with that being said, feel free to check out any extras that i have added to the masterlist, and check out my other works too! thank you for reading <3
previous masterlist end
It had been a few months since you had gone on your first date with Jisung. It was a cute, quiet date that truly embodied his extroverted introvert personality; the two of you sat, watching his favourite shows with him pausing them every fifteen minutes to talk about the plot for about half an hour.
Since then, the two of you continued to go on dates, taking the time to get to know, and learn to love each other. On one of the many dates, Jisung had asked you to be his partner, he expressed that his fondness, his adoration for you had blossomed into love and he wanted to continue to explore that beautiful feeling with you. The floodgates hit, tears falling as you nodded, happy to finally become Jisung’s girl. Once you had calmed down, you explained to him that you couldn’t say that you loved him just yet, you were thankful for his patience with you.
In present time, you were getting ready for yet another date with your boyfriend. It was your treat this time, having planned something with the staff from the restaurant you were planning to take him to. Facetime was open on your phone, your two best friends sat watching the nerves and excitement flowing through your veins as you got into your glam.
“I don’t understand why you’re getting all dolled up, Y/N, Jisung already loves you as you are.” Minnie muttered off camera, sounds of cluttering leaving the speakers of your phone. “All this to drop the bomb on him as well.”
You watched in amusement as Kai rolled his eyes, muting Minnies mic, “do you think I should cancel then?” You asked, looking in the mirror, checking over your eyeshadow, before looking back at the camera.
“No!” The blonde huffed messing with his freshly blonde hair. “I think it’s cute.” He smiled, putting his phone down for a moment to pull his hood over his head, fed up with his hair. “Plus, it’s been a while since you dressed up — you look nice!”
At his words, Minnie unmuted herself as well as turning on her camera to a view of her cooking. “I agree,” she spoke loud over the sound of boiling water. “Also I didn’t mean it in a bad way. I just meant that Jisung’s homebody self would literally be thrilled to have you say it on the comfort of his sofa.”
You hummed at her words, you knew it was true, Jisung would be ecstatic to have you tell him that you loved him anywhere, however, you felt like you needed to treat him to this — to show him how much your love ran deep for him, to show him how much you appreciated him.
With a text from Jisung letting you know he was on his way, you hung up the facetime call slipping into your outfit of the night. You were ready on time, able to take a few pictures before your boyfriend arrived with a bouquet of your favourite flowers for you, helping to place them in a vase before the two of you headed out.
The restaurant you had taken him to was a semi-fancy restaurant. The layout was quite nice, and yet odd at the same time — the kitchen was downstairs, meaning the staff had to walk up and down stairs with many plates in their hands, along with the toilets, and a little photo booth that you’d definitely drag Jisung into later. The bar was beautiful, many different alcohol lined up across the shelves, the hanging lights above giving it a warm welcoming glow.
When you and Jisung had been seated, you talked him through the menu, letting him know what you thought he’d might like and what he’d might not. “I’ll just have whatever it is you’re having,” he smiled at you, pushing his glasses further up his nose. You smiled back at him, ordering for the both of you when the waitress had come over.
Your plan for this evening was to happen after dinner, before dessert and you were shuffling in your seat in excitement. When you had finished both your starter and your main course, a member of staff had come to grab you about your surprise — making it seem like there was an issue. “Do you want me to come with you?” Jisung blinked, getting ready to stand and defend you in case he needed to, but you brushed him off saying that you’d be okay and you won’t be too long.
When you came back, you tried to hide the smile on your face looking down at the plate in your hand. “Sungie?” You asked softly, gaining his full attention. “I don’t think I’ve ever felt something like this before, especially not for another person. All my life I’ve only accepted what I thought was love, from family, ex friends, ex boyfriends, they all led me to believe that the fairytale, unconditional love did not exist. And then I met you.”
You took in a deep breath before continuing, “You’ve changed my life for the better Sung and I that’s why I know I can say it, and mean it.” With that, you placed down the plate that you had been holding. The plate had ‘I love you’ written on it with white chocolate sauce, a few berries in one of the corners, and flower petals in the opposite.
“I love you, Jisung. I love you so much I want to be better for you, I want to protect you, I want to see your smile everyday. I love you so much seeing you upset makes me feel upset, it makes me want to wrap you up in a hug and never let you go. I love you so much that I’m excited to wake up in the morning, I’m excited remembering that I’m yours and you’re mine. I love you so much it’s a little overwhelming sometimes.”
When you paused, you heard a sob from the other side of the table. You looked up to see tears slowly falling from Jisung’s waterline, his teeth biting his lower lip. He stood up, walking to your side of the table, his hands finding purchase on your cheeks as he pulled you in for a kiss.
Jisung’s lips were soft against yours as the moulded together, proving even further that you were made for one another. When he pulled away, he laughed softly and you blinked slightly dazed, “That’s the first time you’ve ever said it…” he muttered, sniffling.
“I know.”
“I’m happy you said it.” He smiled down at you, sitting back down in his seat, grabbing your hand, intertwining your fingers, “I love you too, sweetheart.”
You smiled bashfully, looking down at your hands, “thank you for never giving up on me Jisung. Thank you for being patient with me, despite all I put you through, and for helping me on my journey of healing. Thank you for loving me.”
chapter fourteen — epilogue.
previous masterlist end
★༉‧₊˚✧ 𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐌𝐀𝐍𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓
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© @hyunestrella 2023.
#hyunestrella#[ — heartbreaker 💔 ]#han jisung x y/n#han jisung x you#han jisung x reader#han jisung stray kids#stray kids han#han x you#han x y/n#han x reader#han jisung#skz jisung#skz fake texts#skz fanfic#skz imagines#skz scenarios#skz smau#skz#stray kids fanfic#stray kids x reader#stray kids imagines#stray kids jisung#straykids smau#stray kids smau#skz x reader#straykids#stray kids#kpop#kpop fanfic#kpop smau
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Lizards and Pumpkins (Part 3)
AU Young Leto Atreides x fem! reader
Summary: After the events that occurred, you and Leto are finally getting married. This will also lead to your wedding night into the start of your honeymoon.
A/N: Thank you everyone who took the time to vote! Appreciate the feedback. Also, please ignore the beard in some of the pics I used from dune since Leto in this fanfic has no beard (yet).
A/N #2: please read the two previous parts to this story to be up to date on the events that took place so far.
The first time he sees you walking down the aisle in your wedding dress, Leto is trying to hold back his tears. Seeing you in your white lace, off the shoulder wedding dress with your hair in a braid does things to him.
When you are finally face to face with him. Smiling at him as he takes your hand into his. To him, this all feels like a dream. Being able to marry you, his true love. The one he met by chance in the forest with fate allowing you to keep finding one another, so that you both can be in this moment. Together.
_________________________________________
Both of you have a hard time listening to the officiant, as both of you have these loving looks all the guests can see you giving one another. In fact, there were a few laughs going on as Leto was unaware that he was expected to recite his vows to you.
Once you both have exchanged vows, you both place each of your rings on the other's hands.
“I now pronounce you man and wife. You may no-“, the offiant starts but is interrupted by you and Leto kissing one another for the first time as husband and wife. Everyone cheers.
_________________________________________
As the festivities of your wedding banquet comes to a close, Leto and you thank everyone that attended your celebration. From this, you both walk out of the dining hall, hand-in-hand, and start walking towards the bedroom you will be sharing as a married couple.
Out of nowhere, Leto lifts you into his arms, carrying you over the threshold of your newly shared bedroom. This results in the two of you giggling and smiling at one another.
Once you both are inside the room, Leto puts you down and then steps back. He locks the door and begins to walk towards the bed.
“Will you join me, my love?” Leto asks you, his voice low and husky.
“Yes. Let me just freshen up in the restroom real quick”, you respond sweetly.
Leto nods as you leave the room. His heart pounds as he waits for your return. His hands are trembling at the anticipation of you lying next to him.
Nevertheless, Leto decides to use the time to unbutton his shirt and take off his shoes.
________________________________________
As you add the finishing touches to your look, you are anxious. Never once has a man seen you in such little clothing as Leto is about to see you in. Though this thought alone begins to make you smile. For you trust Leto to be your first in all aspects as he has shared so many with you in the time you’ve both have known each other.
With one more deep breath and a quick touch up to your hair, you then come out wearing a white mesh slip with matching undergarments.
“What do you think, Leto?”, you ask as you approach the bed slowly.
_________________________________________
As you open the door and make your way back into the room, Leto’s eyes pop wide. His jaw drops to the floor and he just stares at you.
“My dear, you are even more stunning than you were in your dress that you wore for the wedding ceremony.”
Leto walks up to you with his hands out.
“May I?” he asks as he gestures for you to step forward.
You nod.
Leto takes your hands in his as he leads you to the bed, laying you down in his arms. He can’t contain himself any longer.
Leto lays you down on the bed and starts to gently kiss your neck and chest. His hands make their way under your lingerie and he starts to caress you.
_________________________________________
You wake up Leto’s arms locked around you and feel his warm breath against your cheek.
“(Y/n)?” he said softly as he kissed your forehead.
Leto started kissing your neck and chest as you were waking up from your slumber.
“Good morning my love,” he said before kissing you gently on the lips. “I hope that your first night as my wife was memorable for you.”
“It was. Thank you”, you respond and nuzzle into his bare chest. “It was. I hope the night was memorable for you as well, husband.”
After a minute of silence, you look up to him and ask with puppy dog eyes. “ Can we stay in bed and cuddle a bit longer before heading out to our honeymoon destination?”
Leto nods his head.
“Of course love. I would like that very much.”
He then starts to rub your bare shoulder and back.
#duke leto x you#duke leto x reader#duke leto#duke leto atreides#fluff#hints of sexy times#dune 2021#dune part one#dune movie#dune#young Leto Atreides#young Leto#alternate universe#oscar issac characters#oscar issac x reader#oscar isaac#oscar issac hernandez estrada
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To this day my brain is still taken with immense brainrot about the emblem holders, especially Thane (go figure).
Like at the last couple of holders the story had already gotten stale. Emblems were handed out like cookies and everybody adjusted just fine and the big supposed sacrifice mentioned sounded kinda lame in comparison to the awesome new powers but- I keep thinking of how this was with Thane, being the first one to accept it.
Before him, there was no precedent! He had no idea what would happen to him, and neither did Respen really. He had no sense of comfort in that another mortal had paved the way before him and successfully inherited an emblem, because nobody had!! It speaks of the sheer terror and determination that lead him to risk having his body teared apart by the combined forces of all the gales in the world. And that's only skimming the surface of how his choice really and truly affected him. I will go full tinfoil hat below, and while Lilith proooobably didn't think that hard abt this- it's more fun this way.
What I keep coming back to when I think of it is the sheer amount of stress it took on him. Both in body and mind. The text itself says the emblem was "woven into his body", and considering that the emblem is basically the force of nature distilled into a pretty little glowy symbol, I can't imagine said emblem forcibly reconstructing your body to be anything but horrifically painful.
One hc I've had for a while is related to this. Noticed that all the other emblem holders have white hair? True Solise and Baden had white/silver hair before, but Brutus and Belinda had light hair that turned white upon transformation. Thane on the other hand had much darker hair than the rest, and his hair similarly didn't lighten all the way to white. But it *did* lighten significantly. And sure blue isn't exactly a logical step when lightening dark grey/black hair, but fantasy setting fantasy rules (also it looks good but I digress). As I see it, the hair lightening process could be a physical effect of the sheer stress put upon their bodies when transforming, following the same logic that hair can turn white following immense stress and trauma.
Another thing is the mental aspect of all of this. I hc that Solise had the easiest transition of them all, considering she already possessed innate abilities that connected her to the voices and lives of all the greenery in the entire Dark Forest. However in comparison to like, say Thane, whose only mildly supernatural senses were an uncanny ability to pinpoint an enemies' weakpoints, he had to quickly and suddenly adjust to being a mortal avatar of the wind. And depending on how his connection to the element compared to a divine being born from the elements with the sole purpose of being the unbridled force of said elements embodied, that's one hell of a jump from "I have some heightened senses" to "my mind is now all of a sudden barraged with a deep understanding of the element unattainable to mere mortals, and an awareness amplified to the thousands of the largest storms to the smallest gusts of winds near here and across half the damn continent".
Like you can't tell me he didn't have to take a moment after the initial crisis blew over (hah) to try his best to not go clinically insane as he's assaulted by sensory inputs so vastly beyond his previous experience as his senses stretch far far far beyond his own mortal body. There's some real eldricht potential here!!
It's why I disliked the magical girl-esque transformations in the animated shorts, as it missed out on showing just how excruciating such a transformation had the potential to be. And lend more credibility to the idea that accepting such an emblem actually *was* more of a harsh choice than simply "uuuuh you're gonna be chased by these mob npcs that are gonna be where you're intending to go regardless but now you'll have awesome powerups to actually fight them hmm hmmm difficult choice to make".
#afk arena#this is still driving me mildly insane but that's just common brainrot innit#kinda want to draw Thane trying not to go insane too maybe later
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Farther Than Tomorrow
So, I know you guys come for my fanfic, but here's my original short story that I wrote when I was feeling some type of way about the cave paintings in France.
I remember every detail from the first time I did it. It had been an accident of course, but I had gone through the motions so many times now that it didn’t seem all that important how or even why it had started. Time travel had only recently become a possibility, and so some were assigned the task of observing historical events. To record every detail available to them without messing up the timeline, and reporting back to have their findings stored for posterity. Others had been given the task of actually changing certain aspects of historical events. The biggest one to date involved some event with a library, but I think it was still burned anyway, so the head honchos are still trying to figure that one out. I had been in the former group of employees when I first started out. That was, until I had accidentally been caught in the crossfires of the American Revolution.
I had hidden behind an overturned supply wagon, trying to catch my breath when I caught sight of a young boy. He couldn’t have been older than fourteen, and it looked like he still had some remnants of his baby fat on his face. He looked up at me, blue eyes starting to glaze over. He lifted his arm towards me, but it quickly fell back down to the ground with a soft thud. He tried to speak, but it came out as a harsh whisper, and a look of pure agony cracked across his face. His other arm grabbing his torso, and for the first time I noticed the brilliant scarlet coating his makeshift rebel uniform. He looked up at me, trying to speak again, but a sharp cry was all that came out as his body contorted in pain with the effort.
“Hey, now. Don’t speak. Everything is going to be alright now,” I cooed, crawling over to him quickly. I smoothed the hair out of his face, taking his hand in mine. Glancing down, I could see the dark stain growing bigger on his clothing.
“W-who are you?” he gasped, eyes raking over me. I wasn’t wearing any period clothing, so I could only imagine the sight I must have been to him.
“I’m from a time in the distant future. I’m here to observe,” I explained gently.
“I don’t want to die,” he cried, tears beginning to form. I could feel my heart wrench in my chest, and I carefully maneuvered him so that his head rested in my lap.
“I know, I know,” I soothed, stroking his hair. The small action seemed to calm him down, and he relaxed a little.
“If you are from the future,” he began, “then can you tell me if any of this is worth it? Does my death mean anything in the end?”
I paused, contemplating his words. He seemed to sense my apprehension because he spoke again. “Please. Tell me. I’m dying anyway. Please tell me that it’s not in vain.”
I took another moment to choose my words carefully, knowing I was breaking the biggest rule in the book.
“Because of your sacrifice,” I started, “something absolutely incredible happens. In two years time, the world turns upside down. The colonists win, and a new nation is born. A nation that will go through many trials and that won’t always come out on the right side of them. This nation will be known as the land of the free and the home of the brave. We become a great nation, one that rivals every other. We make mistakes, but this land and its people grow and become strong because of it.”
He stared at me in awe, his skin a sickly white at this point.
“We win?” he asked quietly. I nodded.
“We win,” I smiled.
“We win,” he breathed, a small smile creeping onto his face, and then, with a shuddering breath, he stopped moving. The world seemed to stop moving after that. I had never seen someone die before, and the sight left me in shock. I was put on leave with mandatory sessions with the department psychologist after that.
—
“How are you feeling after the entire experience, agent?” asked the doctor.
“I feel…sad. Like I should have done more,” I admitted quietly, staring down at my hands. The doctor nodded, giving me a sympathetic smile.
“That’s understandable. You weren’t supposed to witness any deaths on your assignment,” he noted, looking up from the file he had in his lap. I glanced over at him, raising an eyebrow.
“Well, not personally anyway,” he chuckled with a wry smile. “You were never supposed to be that close. I’ve heard they’ve fixed the coordinate machine though.”
“That’s great,” I hummed unenthusiastically. The doctor stared at me for a moment before leaning closer.
“There’s something else on your mind, isn’t there?” he asked.
“It was awful not being able to help that kid. But, in those last few moments, it felt…almost good to know I had comforted him in some way before he…” I stopped, not able to bring myself to say the word. The doctor nodded knowingly. There was another stretch of silence between the two of us before he spoke again.
“Maybe there’s something you can do.”
—
My director stared at me for a moment before letting out a long breath.
“And you’re sure you want to do this?” she asked, worry evident on her face. I gave her a hard nod, my mind made up.
“It’s something I feel needs to be done,” I said simply.
“Alright then,” she began, reaching down to grab a file. “This is your new assignment.”
—
From that moment on, I went from being a simple observer to being something so much more than that. I had made it my life’s work to travel across space and time to bring comfort to those on their deathbeds. I had visited everyone from simple Viking farmers to Napoleon Bonaparte himself. All to tell them how they changed the world into what we know it as today.
“I’m surprised at your work so far,” my director said.
“Is that good or bad surprise?” I asked with a smile. She returned it, and leaned back in her chair.
“Definitely good. Because of your work, we are able to put personalities to faces and people. It’s one thing to observe, but a whole different ball park to understand.”
“That’s very kind of you to say, Director, but I have a feeling you called me in here to do something else.”
“You’re right,” she said, handing me a thin file. Curious, I took it from her, flipping it open.
“What,” I began in confusion, “what is this?”
“It’s your next assignment, of course.”
“I don’t understand,” I said with a shake of my head. Closing the file, I attempted to hand it back to her, but she shook her head.
“This one is all yours,” she said.
“But…why? How can I possibly help? Can the Allspeak even translate for us?”
“Believe it or not,” she began, “a lot of observers requested this time period specifically. We’ve gained a lot of knowledge from the amount of people who volunteered to go.”
“Then why not have one of them go?” I grumbled.
“I think this will be good for you, and besides. You’re one of our best.”
—
And that’s how I ended up in a dark cave sometime in the Paleolithic era. The cave was empty, but not deserted. Several small fires were scattered about with stone tools and bits of food left around them. Not too far back, I heard a hacking cough echo to the front where I stood. Quietly and as quickly as possible, I made my way to where the man laid on his makeshift bed of pelts. Sweat drenched his forehead, and his breath came out in wheezes. He was dying.
At the sound of my footsteps, he opened his eyes, and they widened in shock at the sight of me. I put my hands up to show him I was unarmed, and he watched me wearily.
“It’s alright. I’m not here to hurt you,” I murmured, slowly continuing my way towards him. He continued to watch me, not moving. Finally, I reached him, and I slowly knelt down to sit beside him. We stared at each other for a long moment, both of us taking each other in.
“Who are you?” he asked.
“I’m no one important. Just an observer,” I replied with a small smile.
“You not from here,” he noted, giving me another once over. I chuckled, my smile growing with the action.
“That’s right. I’m from a far away place. A far away time.”
“Time?” he questioned, looking into my eyes. It shocked me to see someone completely human in them. For so long, we had been taught about the people of this time period. How they lived. How they survived. How they created masterpieces on the walls of the caves that still survive to this day. They seemed something other than human. But now, sitting there and staring into his eyes, it was like staring into the eyes of an old friend. Someone who wasn’t as otherworldly as first expected. Someone living from day to day. Just living.
“I’m from the future,” I told him. He furrowed his brow at me.
“What is…future?” he asked. Maybe they didn’t understand the concept of time beyond a certain point, or maybe they just didn’t have a word for future yet. I thought for a moment as to how to explain such a simple word to him.
“I’m from a place that’s farther than tomorrow,” I said finally. He seemed to understand that, and he nodded.
“What you doing here?” he asked before letting out another wheezing cough. I placed a hand on his chest, trying to give him some comfort.
“I’m here to see you.”
“Why?”
I paused, unsure of how to answer. The people of the Paleolithic era had always fascinated everyone throughout the ages. More specifically, their art had captured the imagination of everyone who had ever seen it.
“I want to know you,” I said finally. A different kind of confusion adorned his face now.
“I not family. I not important to you.”
“But you are,” I smiled, taking his hands in mine.
“How?” he wheezed, letting his eyes fall closed for a moment before looking at me again. I moved so that I was lying down next to him, and I pointed at the walls surrounding us. On every surface, a painting rested, holding a story that ran from wall to wall.
“See these?” I asked him, earning a nod. “These paintings will last longer than you and I will ever be able to understand. A long time from now, people like me will come here; long after everyone living here is gone. They’re going to come here, and they’re going to do everything they can to understand you and why you left these pictures here. People like me will cry at the sheer beauty of these pictures, and in doing so, will cry at the loss of you, at the loss of everything you represent. Their souls will mourn you and everything you’ve given to us.”
“Why they want to understand?”
“Because,” I whispered, “every single person that ever was or ever will be has come from you. By understanding you, it gives us hope that we can understand ourselves. That we can understand a time when we worked together to survive everything the world threw at us. We want to understand the time before we started tearing our world apart because we could.”
“And I give?” he asked, eyes turning to search mine, seemingly for answers to questions he didn’t even know how to ask. I nodded, feeling my heart break once again for someone who was already long dead.
“You give us the ability to understand the world around us and how we fit in a little better. You make us see ourselves for what we are.”
“What that?” he asked quietly, letting out a weak cough.
“Creatures that were able to overcome many trials and rise up to become something greater than what nature may have intended us to be.”
“That…good?” he whispered, fighting to keep his eyes open.
“Yes,” I said, “that’s very good.”
“I no want,” he coughed, his entire body jerking violently this time. “I no want to be alone. Family looking for food. No back for long time.”
“It’s okay,” I soothed. “I won’t leave your side.”
And I didn’t. For a long while, we laid there, staring at the walls. The fires around the cave danced, casting shadows that made those breathtaking pictures seem to move with them. We watched as the people hunted for the deer that seemed larger than life. We watched as the herds of bison raced against each other, forming waves of dark bodies against a sea of rigid stone. I didn’t realize at first when his hand fell limp in mine. When I did, I looked over to find he had completely stilled, departed to dance and hunt with his ancestors, and to be immortalized on the stone walls protecting us. Carefully, I arranged his hands so that they rested on his body, and I made my way towards the opening of the cave, sparing one last look at my new friend.
I didn’t go on any assignments after that. It seemed almost wrong to even entertain the idea of it. I retired myself to desk duty, handing out assignments when they came in, and making sure each person was assigned the cases they could handle. I still think about the man in the cave, and tell his story whenever I’m called to guest lectures.
“What inspired you to start this branch of the agency?” asked one student during a lecture at Harvard. I thought for a moment, not quite knowing the answer.
“I wanted to start it,” I began, “because I hoped that people in the future would look back on this and be inspired to continue to keep learning about themselves.”
“Where do you see our future being?” asked another student.
Smiling, I replied, “In a place farther than tomorrow.”
#short story#original fiction#original work#creative writing#writing#writer#short fiction#original story
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Come Down
Nancy Wheeler x GN!Harrington!Reader
Summary: The trauma that you experienced at Starcourt scarred you for life. The only person who can bring you comfort is Nancy.
Warnings: Talks of trauma, a lot of angst and comfort
Word Count: 672
A/N: My brief return, guys! Idk if I will post more consistently this summer, but I will do my best. Enjoy this!
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When you had called Nancy and asked her to come over, you had sounded relatively calm. A little stressed out, but not distressed. It was a completely different story when you opened the door for her. Your clothes were rumpled, you looked like you were on the verge of tears, and the way you pulled Nancy inside of your house made her think that you were scared of something. No, not scared. Terrified.
Realization washed over her quickly when she discovered that the large house that you and your family lived in was completely desolate save for you. When she turned back around to face you, she found you pacing back and forth.
You finally looked up and hoarsely said, “Mother and Father are in Europe, and Stevie is at some girl's house. I didn’t know who else to call.” Anger washes over Nancy at the fact that Steve had left you alone. Your parents were absent most of the time, but Steve leaving was definitely a first. He never left you after the events at Starcourt.
She was fully prepared to go ballistic on the former King of Hawkins High, but when she saw the look on your face she decided against it. Instead, she grabbed your radio and dragged you to the kitchen where you both sat on the cold tiles. The radio station began to play Eric Clapton, who Nancy knew you liked.
She pulled you closer to her, causing you to snuggle into her neck. She feels you sniff, making her ask, “Are you okay?” This seems to open up the floodgates as you completely break down. You held onto her tightly, sobbing, “Please don’t leave me.”
Nancy hugged you tightly back, rocking you soothingly. She muttered into your hair, “Just breathe, Y/N. We can figure this out. I won’t leave you alone.” You pulled back slightly so that you could look into her eyes. Nancy could feel tears welling up in her own eyes at the pained look on your face.
You snuggled back into her, asking, “Can you just hold me for a while? And can it be quiet?” Nancy nods immediately, resting her head on yours. She knows exactly how you feel, having dealt with the same terrified emotions when she was first pulled into this new and darker aspect of the world.
She remembers the flashbacks, the screams, the guilt, and she can see you recalling the exact same things in your head right this second. She doesn’t want you to be going through this, but she knows that there is no way to go back and remove the trauma. So instead, she decides that she will sit here with you for as long as it takes for you to come down, no matter how late it is.
After a bit, you glance up at the curly haired brunette that you are snuggled against. She can feel your eyes on her, and she looks down at you. You quietly murmur, “Thank you, Nance. You didn’t have to do this, but you did. I’m sorry I made you come by so late.” Nancy shakes her head at you, refusing to accept your apology.
“Honey, there is nothing to apologize for. I know it feels like the pain and trauma never ends. I know exactly what you’re up against, so I will be here for you no matter what. Don’t forget, I’ve been here before as well. You forget to worry about yourself until it is too late to get some help. I’m here to make sure the same doesn’t happen to you.” You give her a soft smile before kissing her cheek sleepily.
“I promise, I’m here till you come down.” You nod your head into her neck, knowing that her even breathing will be the last thing you hear before you fall asleep. The comfort it brings you is unparalleled, and you know then that Nancy is the one person that can bring you peace during the storm that is raging in your head.
---
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FORGOTTEN HAIR CLIPS
pairing. haitani ran x gn!reader
summary. the one time ran forgets to take off your hair clips
note. spoilers. a request from anonymous. likes and reblogs are always appreciated
No one had ever told you how difficult it was to have your own YouTube channel. If you weren’t constantly stressed about strict video deadlines or new hair tutorial ideas, then you were often anxious about meeting fans’ expectations and the occasional hate comments on your videos. Though, without a doubt, the most difficult aspect of your job was having to deal with your annoying hair model, also known as your boyfriend.
Working with Ran was both a blessing and a curse. On some days, your unpredictable boyfriend would remain quiet and simply look pretty for the camera, allowing you to style his hair and record your videos in peace. On other days, Ran would whimsically decide to be chaotic, frequently teasing you with kisses and compliments, maybe even a story or two about the killings that happened at work last week, all of which you would have to painstakingly edit out of your videos later.
And yet, no matter how truly exasperating he was at times, you also couldn’t have asked for a better model than Ran. He was your canvas and your muse, always unintentionally inspiring you to try out different hairstyles on him, if only to see how they would look on your pretty boyfriend. It most definitely helped that Ran had such a lovely face, as his attractiveness helped to highlight the beauty of your work. From simple, everyday looks to formal half-do’s and buns, the possibilities with your boyfriend’s hair were limitless. Not to mention, the countless comments regarding him from your viewers were quite funny, too.
I would sell my soul to L’Oreal to have such beautiful hair
Sir, I beg of you, what is your hair care routine??? Some of us are struggling and in need of guidance
I know that’s just how his face is, but the way he is staring at me as if I am unworthy and beneath him-
I know you told us in your last Q & A that your boyfriend wasn’t a part of the yakuza, but like, those tattoos?? Is it just me??
More than anything, though, what you liked about having Ran as your hair model was that you were able to spend more time with him, especially considering how busy your boyfriend always was with work. As an executive, Ran would often arrive home in the early hours of the morning or be in another city meeting with dangerous and influential clients, so it was these quiet, simple moments with him that you enjoyed and cherished most.
“Are you done yet?” your boyfriend asked anxiously after checking his watch for the third time.
Replying with a halfhearted hum, you carefully secured another hair clip in place before moving on to repeat this step once more. This had been your meticulous routine for the past thirty minutes, and although Ran was usually excited to see your finished work, he really couldn’t afford to give you any more time right now. Ran loved you, he really did, but he also feared that he would be late to his meeting this afternoon if you continued to be like this.
“Almost,” you said with a placating kiss to his cheek, and despite your reassurance, Ran’s almost instant and tired sigh signalled to you that he didn’t believe your words at all, and you couldn’t help but find this funny.
“Love, that’s what you said fifteen minutes earlier.”
“Okay, but I mean it this time. There, done!” you excitedly told him before taking a step back to admire your work. With a nod of your head, you couldn’t stop smiling as you took a few pictures and gazed at Ran with tearful eyes of amazement and pride. “Beautiful.”
“Thank you,” he immediately replied, making you playfully scoff as you began to gather your belongings from the bathroom counter. Too busy cleaning and putting away your hair clips, you almost didn’t register the quick kiss that Ran had given you before he hastily got ready to leave the house. “I’ll be going now.”
“Be safe,” you instantly responded. “A-and please don’t kill anyone today!”
“No promises!”
The drive to Bonten headquarters was one of loud shouting and annoyed curses as Ran tried his best to make it to his meeting on time while still not going over the speed limit. The last thing he needed at the moment was another police chase around Tokyo like last month. By the time he had reached the doors of the meeting room, Ran was trying to catch his breath while quickly fixing his tie before he walked into the room like a man who was fashionably late and not just plain late.
“Apologies, gentlemen,” Ran said as he took his seat next to Rindou. “I was dealing with something at home and nearly forgot the time. Anyway, what have we discussed so far?”
After not hearing an immediate answer, Ran proceeded to glance up from the paper in front of him and scan around the room, now noticing how all of the other Bonten higher-ups were staring at him in absolute confusion and amusement. Turning to Rindou, the younger Haitani quickly avoided Ran’s questioning gaze as he covered his mouth in a desperate attempt to fight back his laughter.
“What’s wrong?” Ran asked everyone curiously, not understanding why they were acting this way.
“Oh, nothing,” Sanzu replied, the smirk on his face telling Ran that he was about to say some sarcastic, taunting response. “Your highness.”
At the mention of that mocking title, all of the men began to laugh uncontrollably, Ran’s expression of confusion only further adding to their amusement as some of them started to laugh even louder, while others appeared to have tears in their eyes. Even Mikey, their cold and heartless leader, was struggling to hold onto his mask of apathy and indifference, as Ran could easily discern a subtle smile on his boss’s usually emotionless face.
It was only after Rindou had shown Ran a picture of himself did the older Haitani finally begin to understand the reason for his colleagues’ previously inexplicable and sudden series of laughter, and he honestly couldn’t help but shoot them all a completely unimpressed look because of it.
Ran’s hair was currently arranged into an elegant half-do, the strands of his dyed black hair having been formed into pretty, ribbon-like spirals that rested against his back and were artfully decorated with golden butterfly and flower hair clips that beautifully contrasted the colour of his hair.
Leaning back into his seat with an annoyed scoff, Ran exasperatedly waited for everyone to finish with their laughter before loudly saying, “You guys are just jealous. If you’re all done now, can we get back to the meeting?”
“H-he’s right,” Kakucho managed to say as they all began to quiet down. “Let’s get back to the meeting, everyone.”
However, for the next week, it became quite clear to Ran that he was the current joke of the office, as he had started to find random hair clips waiting for him on his desk whenever he arrived at work. They were obviously a lighthearted, teasing gesture from the other Bonten higher-ups, as each hair clip was a different style that spoke to the personalities of the other executives. And despite Ran’s unspoken annoyance about this, the bright smile on your face when he would gift you with one of these new and expensive hair accessories was more than enough to make him stay quiet and not say a word.
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Thoughts on SherLiam and Touch: Part 2
(Part 1)
By the point we’re at in the New York arc (chapter 71, as of writing this) Sherlock and Liam are still not touching (except, again, the possibility of feet touching beneath the table.)
It’s almost weird, realizing that Sherlock wasn’t holding Liam’s hands in his on the rooftop. It feels like it would have been natural, there. Not that the scene suffers at all for him not doing so; it’s still beautiful.
(Note that as I talk about touch here, unless I specifically say so, I’m not talking about sexual or inherently romantic touch. Just touch. Bumping arms, a hug, a pat on the back or the shoulders.)
Now the thing about Sherlock is that he’s often selfish and immature, but has a definite sweetness to him. And Liam brings that out in him in spades. Sure they’re playful and flirty and competitive, but there’s such tenderness between them. To me the turning point is the way Sherlock starts looking at Liam in chapter 31: I think that’s where he begins, subconsiously or not, to realize that Liam is in pain.
Sherlock does not generally alter his behaviour for the comfort of anyone else. It’s foundational to his personality, that he not change to fit what others want or expect. And Liam’s recognition of that is an enormous part of what makes Sherlock fall in love with like him so quickly. But that’s all the more reason why Liam is someone he will allow himself to change for, in some ways.
So here’s my headcanon for where they’re at in the NY backstory as of Chapter 71. Sherlock wants to touch Liam, but he’s trying to actually curb his own impulses in favour of doing what Liam needs, and in a slightly flawed attempt at following the Golden Rule, as it were, he’s going: “I don’t like it when people get all sappy and touchy with me. So I won’t do that to Liam.” Liam wants to touch Sherlock, but he’s not accustomed to initiating touch with others, and he doesn’t know if it would be welcome.
So how does the impasse break? I have two ideas:
1. A scenario like what I wrote in Home (sorry not sorry for self-promo) but without devolving into Obligatory Fanfic Makeouts. One has a moment where he thinks the other is dead or seriously injured, and in the relief of realizing that’s not the case, he just grabs the other into a big ol’ hug. OR the one who was possibily dead/injured initiates the hug to reassure the other one.
2. One of them has a full-scale breakdown into tears. Not Liam’s pretty rooftop crying, but like actual messy ugly sobbing. Either Liam cracks over his whole mess of guilt and missing his family all tangled in with newfound hope and love; OR, (and I’m leaning this way because by this point Sherlock deserves to have a little meltdown, as a treat) Sherlock breaks. Maybe he gets home and Liam isn’t there and all the latent fear and grief of the months Liam was unconscious bubbles to the surface, because he lived every day wondering if that was the day he’d get to the hospital and a nurse would greet him with bad news; that Liam didn’t have the will to live, that he slipped away in the night. And now Liam’s just gone, and who knows if he’s gone and jumped off a building or if he just wasn’t interested in sticking around. And when Liam comes home he finds Sherlock just crying on the floor, and a whole lot of hugging and apologizing and reassuring ensues.
Regardless, I do think they got past the touch barrier sometime between those early days in New York and the dinner party. And yes, I headcanon them as an allo gay couple who are married in every way aside from legal, with a healthy sex life that’s fun and active but far from the most important aspect of their relationship. But sticking more with what canon is likely to actually tell us:
They both, somewhat awkwardly but sweetly, initiate touch with their older brothers when they return. Growth!
The extra art always shows them touching more than they actually do within the story, but these Extremely Married pictures are both with the eyepatch and longer hair combo post-timeskip.
Anyway, as per use...yoozh?...ushe?...whatever, I once again don’t really have a thesis statement or a point I’m getting at, except that they’re not touching yet, and I think they will be, and I’m curious to see how that comes about (and again, I don’t mean that in a sexual way. Just physical closeness with someone one is close to.) Also I’m just impressed how much the series has been able to build the sense of intimacy and deep connection between them without them needing to touch.
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A/N: So, some people enjoyed my first published work, and with that I decided to post this one. I'm not really confident about it, but maybe I'm overthinking. also, there might be grammar mistakes, since english isn't my first language. sorry about this :)
Anyway, This is another JASON x FEM!READER fic, because i love this boy heavily.
summary: (1,9k words) Jason build an habit of visiting her in the Manor. They try to comfort each other about life's shit, him more directly, and her by small actions. Also, the trope can be said as "not only one bed, but i want to share it with you", i guess. Reader is 17, last year of school. I perceive jay as 19, a bit after he adopted the red hood persona, so things are still harsh between him and brucie.
hope u guys enjoy.
Promises - from me, to you.
She knew the night was rough when he shoved his helmet in her desk with harshness. Looking at his eyes, the reason of hiding them in the field is clear - he is unable to disguise his emotions. Those blue, green eyes (she's never been able to decide the color) stares at her. Jason's hair was a mess, the curls undefined and shiny from sweat, and his breath trembles as he fights against the tears trying to escape. She gets out of bed, the clock exposing the sinfulness of the time they usually meet.
"Balcony?" scratching the eyes, trying to get rid of the sleepiness, her tired voice awakes a feeling of guilt inside Jason. Hoping the sleep deprived her from noticing the drops in his cheeks, he pushes the guilt to the back of his mind; remembering himself that she told a million times his presence wasn't a bother.
"Yeah."
Out in the balcony, they stare at the sky. Gotham's lights steals all the shine from the starts, so it is nothing but a black cloak. He feels like smoking, an usual urge lately. Their forearms are supported by the railing, wind making her hair swing. He looks at her profile, and he can feel the adrenaline finally vanishing.
Caught staring, she looks at him back with a smile, "Rough night?"
"All of them have been, lately." She hums in agreement.
The girl plays with her fingers, looking at the city. Jason is unsure about the reasons he comes to her. Before these meetings, he would simply go to his apartment and stare at the wall. Or find something else to full his mind. But, after that first night they talked... It was so simple, so easy. No drama, no disagreements. He could just be himself without worrying about what she would think of him - because she never corrected nothing. Never gave him a lecture about his ways.
"Still studying for those exams?" He nedeed to talk about something. Anything other than cases, crimes or fucking death. Just small talk.
"Most of the time. Is hard, you know. Sometimes my mind tricks me into thinking I'm unable to complete the tasks."
"Why's that? You have some of the best grades in your class."
"I'm not sure. There's always someone outstanding me, and not only in school. I just... I kinda compare myself a lot, I guess."
He knows the feeling. Growing in the Manor, he usually compared himself to Richard and even to Bruce. He had to die to understand - he was his own person. Even so, in some aspects, those tricks always catch him too.
"I know it sounds cliche, but there's really no reason to compare yourself."
"I know. I mean, look at this city. Millions of people, millions of stories. Can you imagine all that goes on? And I'm so lucky to live here now. Most of these people would kill to have the life I got. But I still feel so... undeserving."
His eyes follow her movements, now her back supported by the railing. Hair swinging a little in front of her face. A perfect movie take, he thinks. He also thinks that, if she believes being undeserving of this life, Jason can't assure if he deserved to come back to it. Actually, he's sure he does not. Hell, he didn't even wanted to come back.
Realizing Jason went into the depths of his mind, she sighs, trying to bring him back.
"I compare myself to you guys the most." As she expected, this called attention.
"Why?"
A bitter laugh. "Why? Jason, look at you. You give so much for this city. Even if the others disagree with your methods, you stand for yourself and... I don't know. You guys do so much. I feel like time's running out and I'm unable to keep the pace."
"We do this so you, and other people, can have their own pace. There's no reason in sacrifice if everyone does it."
She tilts her head to look at him, not appearing to notice his sudden change of tone, "I know." The wind gets stronger, her arms shivering.
"Let's go inside. You're cold." He opens the balcony glass door, pulling her in.
"Come sit with me." She jumps into the bed playfully, petting her side for the sake of his presence.
"I'll dirty your bed."
"So I'll stand with you." And she did stand, face in the height of his chest. His heart pounded at the difference of power between them. Not because he finds said difference amusing, but it's the way she acts around him; comfortable, happy with his presence. Even when both of them know he could do to her - with her - wathever he wanted. But she trusts him. With this in mind, he does a silent promise to her; but mostly, to himself: He'd always use this in the sake of protecting her. Realizing he's been quiet for some time, he laughs.
"I think it's time for me to go, actually. Sun's rising and you need to go back to sleep."
I don't think I deserve this. His eyes, against his wish, might have revealed the process of thinking.
Her brows furrowed, and he never found this girl more beautiful than now. "Stay, Jason. You have a room in the Manor, just take a shower and come back here."
Even knowing she didn't meant that, he felt shivers in his back. I'll always come back to you, the words begged to leave his lips.
"Nah, you do need to sleep. And I don't want to find Bruce in the middle of the corridor, honestly."
"Take a shower in my bathroom, then. I'll grab your clothes, you had a rough patrol. Just relax a bit, we can even watch a movie if you want."
He ponders about the tempting offer. Fuck it, fuck what Bruce will think if he finds out, and fuck his own feelings of excitement about sharing this moment with her. She's right, the night was rough and he deserves to have ordinary, simple moments. He has the right to seek something- and to seek someone. And he has the right to do something about it.
"Okay. There are fitting clothes in the first drawer of the closet." He kept some casual clothes in the Manor, for situations that he might want to stay. He's glad he ever believed one day he'd want to be there.
Entering her bathroom, while she sneaked into the corridor, he observed every aspect of the place. The elegant curtains, the big mirror. Her products for skin, and her hair. All from the greatest quality - thanks Bruce for taking such good care of her - and soft towels. Taking off his dirty clothes and tossing them behind the door, he allows the water to clean his body and mind.
His hair would smell like her for the whole next day, and he felt like a creep for realizing it, enjoying it and being unable to control the little smile in his face.
A knock pulled him out of the thought, "Jay, your clothes!" He grabbed a towel and rolled in his hips. Opening the door just enough to grab it, he thanked her, getting ready to bed.
•••
Her bed was soft. He sitted in the end of it, watching her choose a movie in some streaming platform. The pajamas fitted perfectly. A small shorts, socks with a lot of small Yodas stamped. A cute long sleeve shirt, but a bit tight. Her hair a mess from the wind. He stared at her, trying to make his eyes stare up.
"Oh I swear, If I had to choose between only two movies it would be so easy. The problem of this world really is the amount of possibilities."
"Hey. Forget the movie. Let's just..." Just what?
Just stare at each other laying in bed? He would actually like this. But it's strange to word it.
"Just what, Jason?"
"Talk?" He sounded like a stupid, inexperienced teenage boy. Well, he was feeling like one- so that's fair.
Giving up the movie, she turns off the TV.
"Fine, get in the sheets. I'm cold!" They both enter inside the sheets, a comfort warm embracing their bodies. He realizes how tired he is, eyes heavy.
Her eyes trail Jason's face shamelessly. She didn't felt that urge of pretending not to stare like he did. She just observed him, enjoying his features.
"You're so pretty, Jay." His heart jumped. What does he answer to this? Compliments back? No, kinda clumsy. Denies it? She'd get mad at him.
"Ahm. I- okay." She laughs, lighting the whole room.
"And soooo cute."
"Stop it, now you're saying this only to tease me." He feels a smile growning in his own face.
"Sleep here with me, Jason?" She asked suddenly, after some moments of silence. Her voice went low, as if she was unsure about wording the wish. His mind went quiet. They agreed of him staying a little more, but he'd been sure she would eventually ask him to leave. He licks his lips, trying to choose a proper answer;
"I have my own, and I don't want to bother you."
"Yeah, but I wanna make sure you really sleep. Besides, I feel a bit scared at nights here, being honest. I'm also alone because Bruce and the boys do patrol. Would be nice have a company."
Bullshit. He knows she doesn't feel scared- it's impossible to have fear about the exterior in the Manor. Everybody knows about the absurd high security. But, feeling alone - that's usual. She's trying to convince him to stay, he decides.
"Fine. But don't get used to it." She doesn't know, but he says this more to himself. Don't get used to it.
"You said this exactly when we first talked at the balcony, and we do it almost every week."
"This is different."
"Yeah, yeah. Guess I'll have to bring your clothes to my room." Please do this. Let me be here always. He forces a laugh,
"Go to sleep." She doesn't close her eyes.
"You first, jaybird."
"Are you what, five?" A chuckle.
"No, Jason. I want you to sleep with me. Hold me. Stop being oblivious." So confident. She states that with so much assurance. He envys this briefly; and his heart skipped a bit as he remembers himself they are friends, she's asking him to hold her because they are close friends. Right?
His hands are trembling for some reason. "Right."
He had promised to be the protector, and realized it was stupid of him to do so. Stupid of him, because in the end, he's the one feeling safe while having his arms around her. Her back pressed in his chest, her smell lulling him to sleep. The softness of her body made him hold tight, hand resting on her waist. His last thought before drowning in dreams was the sure this would be the best sleep of his life.
That night had been rough on him; just as his whole life had. And Jason build walls around him - walls that he always believed were unbreakable. Proving all of his sures wrong, she was melting all barriers without a single weapon.
Sometimes, protection is not about force - but the simple will of being close. Is about choosing to be together, even when you don't have to.
Listening to his steady breath and getting closer to Jason's body, she realizes;
You completed the task, girl. You deserve this.
And she smiled.
#jason todd blurb#jason todd#jason x reader#jason todd x you#jason todd reader#jason todd fanfiction#jason todd deserves better#jay x reader#jaybird#batfamily#batbo#batboys
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Heart of a Hunter Act VII - Ch. 2
Heart of a Hunter Act VII - Ch. 2
Characters: Dean x doctor!Reader, Sam Winchester
This story is Act 7 of a saga.
New to the story? Get caught up on the Heart of a Hunter Saga here.
All your favorite Winchesters are alive, in spite of the curse that nearly took them from you. After coming so close to losing the only family you have left in this world, you’re taking matters into your own hands. There’s a witch to hunt.
Series Warnings:
Character injuries/sickness - Take note that no one is excluded from this.
Canon-typical violence and language.
Lots of whump.
Lots of caring for hurt characters.
Smut (18 Only. NSFW. You were warned.)
Angst.
Fluff.
Medical talk. Is that even a warning
Image Credit: bing image search, google image search, @destielsstuff , @deanwcaps ,
Wordcount: 1530
Chapter 2
Addie and Sam were playing cards in the bunker’s library. The two of them hadn’t had very much alone time since she’d arrived yesterday and needed to catch up. You checked on dinner in the oven, deciding it would be at least another half hour before the food was finished. Then you went searching for Dean and Jonah.
Dean was sitting on the floor in the room you shared and leaning against the bed with Jonah wiggling happily on a baby blanket next to him. Dean had a little leatherbound book on his lap and was writing in it with one hand and gently rubbing Jonah's tummy with the other.
"There's my guys," you said as you walked into the room and knelt next to them.
"Hey, sweetheart," Dean said in greeting, tearing his eyes away from the page he was writing on long enough to greet you with a quick kiss when you leaned in.
You recognized the leatherbound book Dean was holding, but only because you'd occasionally seen him carrying it around. "Whatcha got there?" you asked, curiosity getting the best of you.
"Oh, I don't know … just a journal of sorts."
"Yeah?" You smoothed Jonah's hair with your fingers.
Dean was scrawling a line toward the bottom of the page and finished it before he took a deep breath and looked up at you. "Having my dad's journal has meant a lot to me over the years," he said, looking down fondly at your son who chose that moment to let out a happy little gurgle. "I just thought it would be a good way to tell my own stories and share the things that should be passed down from father to son, whether he chooses to lead a Hunter's life or no."
You smiled at him. "That makes a lot of sense."
"Yeah?" he said, almost sheepishly.
"I think keeping a journal is great for a lot of reasons," you assured him. "It's cathartic, for one. And I'm sure Jonah will enjoy having something that you wrote by hand later on. Besides, your dad's journal meant a lot to me, too. I even got to know you and Sam in new ways when I read it the first time. And you know how much my mom's novels have meant to me."
His smile stretched a little further until it reached his eyes.
"How long have you been writing in it?"
"Oh, since you told me you were pregnant." He closed the book and picked it up with one hand, offering it to you to take.
You accepted it almost reverently, a little surprised that he wanted to share it with you right then. "May I?"
"Yeah, of course. Go ahead. And it's not all about hunting."
You flipped it open and began casually perusing the pages.
There were dates at the top of all the pages that had entries, but rather than looking like a typical diary or journal he'd taken a slightly different approach. This journal didn't exactly resemble John Winchester's, but rather was a culmination of lots of things Dean felt were important in all different aspects of life.
Hunting information occupied some of the pages further back including ammo loads and reloading tips, but toward the front, he had included several of his favorite recipes. There were quite a few pages about John and Mary and the story of how they’d met along with some early memories Dean had of their little family when it had been intact.
There was an entire section devoted to caring for Baby with details about what oil to use in the engine, what wax to use on the paint job, and how often she specifically needed maintenance for certain things. You knew he’d included those because she’d belong to Jonah one day. You couldn't help the soft smile that tugged at your lips as you browsed the pages.
Still another section was titled Shotgun Picks the Music and held lyrics to some of Dean’s favorite songs. The one with today's date had handwritten lyrics for Led Zeppelin's 'Ramble On' along with some of Dean's thoughts about the song and what it meant to him.
Leaves are falling all around
It's time I was on my way
Thanks to you I'm much obliged
For such a pleasant stay
But now it's time for me to go
The autumn moon lights my way
For now I smell the rain
And with it pain
And it's headed my way
Ah, sometimes I grow so tired
But I know I've got one thing I got to do
Ramble on
And now's the time, the time is now
To sing my song
I'm goin' 'round the world, I got to find my girl
On my way
I've been this way ten years to the day
Ramble on
Gotta find the queen of all my dreams
Got no time for spreadin' roots
The time has come to be gone
And though our health we drank a thousand times
It's time to ramble on
Ramble on
And now's the time, the time is now
To sing my song
I'm going 'round the world, I got to find my girl
On my way
I've been this way ten years to the day
I gotta ramble on
I gotta find the queen of all my dreams
I ain't tellin' no lie
Mine's a tale that can't be told
My freedom I hold dear
How years ago in days of old
When magic filled the air
'T was in the darkest depths of Mordor
I met a girl so fair
But Gollum, and the evil one
Crept up and slipped away with her
Her, her, yeah
Ain't nothing I can do, no
I guess I keep on rambling
I'm gonna, yeah, yeah, yeah
Sing my song (I gotta find my baby)
I gotta ramble on, sing my song
Gotta work my way around the world baby, baby
Ramble on, yeah
I gotta keep searching for my baby
I gotta keep-a-searchin' for my baby
I can't find my bluebird
I listen to my bluebird sing
I can't find my bluebird
I keep rambling, baby
I keep rambling, baby
It's not always about leaving, Dean had written. It's about moving forward, changing and growing, and not getting stuck in your ways. Even when it's hard. No, especially when it's hard.
It's about persevering when it feels like the world is against you. Even when you're sure no one understands exactly how you're feeling.
It's about finding joy and satisfaction in the little things, and not being ashamed of things you feel passionate about.
It's about knowing that most things are temporary and will pass. But the things that last - the things that really matter like family, being kind and selfless, working smart and not just hard, and being happy with doing your best - those are the things you have to hold onto. That's what gets you through when everything else is fleeting.
It's about balance, and constantly checking yourself ... because getting a little off-kilter is like driving on tires that are wearing unevenly. There are consequences.
It's about forgiving, because you'll make plenty of your own mistakes. It's about loving when your instinct is to put up walls.
And putting down roots and finding a home? Well, that's not always cut and dry like most of the world sees it.
For years Sammy and I had a home in Baby - still feel right at home when I settle in on those leather seats - but you can also find home in a call to an old friend, in a song like this one, or in a home-cooked meal that fills up more than just your belly.
And, for reasons I'll probably never understand, I've been lucky enough to find home in the heart of a loving woman who chooses every day to face the world with me side by side.
You felt moisture in your eyes but blinked it away before looking up at your husband. "I love this," you said with a smile, offering the book back to him. "I think it's wonderful. And, as usual, I have a lot to learn from you, Winchester. How is it you're always finding ways to surprise me?"
"Well, I don't know about any of that," Dean said dismissively as he set the book down next to Jonah's blanket."If anything, I'm learning from you, sweetheart."
And he didn't have to say it, but you knew his recent brush with death had him feeling more than a little sentimental and protective.
You leaned in and pressed your lips to his in a soft kiss that he returned by putting his whole heart behind the gesture.
"Have I told you how much I love you today?" you said, resting your forehead against his.
"You have now," he replied sweetly. "But there's no doubt I love you more." You raised a skeptical eyebrow at him, half-smiling. "That's not up for debate," he added straight-faced, earning another kiss.
“You hungry, big guy?”
“Always.”
“Pot roast is almost ready.”
Dean patted his stomach and said, “I love pot roast. Got that recipe here on page seven, I think….”
Act VII Masterlist.
You can find the Masterlist for the Heart of a Hunter Saga here.
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Appointments of Emotion
Worry and fear consume Scully while she’s pregnant. Her mother wants to help, but will Scully let her see her when she’s most vulnerable?
A conversation I had with a friend, discussing how Scully and Maggie would navigate the delicate balance of Scully's pregnancy, and it led me to write this story. I hope you all enjoy it. 💓
“Mom, you didn’t need to bring so much,” Scully said, looking at the bags of groceries her mother had brought, needing to make a second trip to the car and refusing Scully’s offer to help her.
“I know,” Maggie laughed quietly, as she too looked at the groceries. “But… I was there and I kept thinking that maybe you’d like this or maybe that and then soon the cart was full and…” She shrugged and smiled, reaching for a bag to begin putting the groceries away.
Scully forced a small smile and nodded her appreciation.
“Thank you,” she said softly. “I was running low on some things. I had planned to stop after my appointment tomorrow.”
“Oh, you have an appointment?”
“Yeah. Um… I want to make sure everything is okay. I…” She rubbed her belly, swallowing hard as she looked down and blinked quickly, hoping to get rid of her tears. “It’s a… a new doctor I’m seeing. Just to be sure it’s going well.”
“Would you like some company? Or would you prefer to go alone?” Maggie asked quietly, the rustle of the grocery bag stilling.
“I…” Scully said, her voice quivering as she shook her head.
Suddenly her mother’s arms were around her and she was holding her closely. Scully clung to her and cried, the tears unable to be stopped. Her mother murmured as she stroked her hair and hummed softly.
“I know, Dana,” Maggie said, rubbing her back. “I understand the feeling of being alone. And pregnant.”
“Mom…”
“I know it’s not the same, not by a long shot,” her mother assured her. “But some aspects, I understand. I didn’t have anyone to go with me. My mother was gone by the time I was pregnant with Bill. And then your father was gone when I was pregnant with nearly all of you kids, for the majority of the pregnancy.”
“Mom, it’s…”
“I know. It’s not my place to ask.” Maggie pulled back and looked at her, wiping Scully’s cheeks with her thumbs. “Your life is your own.”
“Mom,” Scully whispered, drawing in a ragged breath.
“Dana, I worry about you. About the baby. I just want everything to be okay. To know that you and they are fine.”
“We are. When it comes to that anyway,” Scully said, trying to smile.
“Everything else will take time,” Maggie said wisely and Scully nodded, biting her lower lip.
“Would you come with me tomorrow?” she asked, holding onto her mother’s slim wrists as she continued to stroke her cheeks.
“I would love to come with you,” her mother said with a smile.
“Good. Okay.”
She kissed Scully’s forehead and then stepped back, smiling as she stared at her.
“But first, the groceries. Then I’ll make you dinner.”
“You don’t…” Scully started to say, but stopped herself. Nodding, she wiped at her eyes. “I’d like that. Thank you.”
“Of course, honey.”
_____________
The paper covering the exam table crinkled beneath her as she shifted uneasily. She looked at the pictures on the wall of the fetus during the different trimesters. She was in the second trimester now and she rubbed her belly as she compared the size of it to other objects.
About half the size of a ruler. A little longer than a can of soda.
“Look at that,” Maggie said, stepping closer to the pictures. “The baby may be sucking his or her thumb. That’s amazing. But also, we had a time of breaking Charlie of that when he was little.”
“I remember,” Scully said with a small smile. “He cried a lot when you tried to make him stop.”
“Hmm, yeah. And then one word from one of his friends and it was what babies did,” her mother said with a sigh. “Things feel so big in those moments. So important to change and then…” She shook her head and they looked at each other as a knock sounded at the door.
“Come in,” Scully called out, sitting still and folding her hands in her lap.
“Hello,” a woman said, smiling as she stepped into the room. “I’m Doctor Neil, we spoke last week.”
“Yes, hello. It’s nice to meet you,” Scully said, shaking her hand. “Dana Scully and this is my mother, Margaret Scully.”
“Maggie, please,” her mother said, also shaking the doctor’s hand.
“Well, it’s a pleasure to meet you both. Will anyone else be joining us?”
“No there’s… no. Just us,” Scully said, letting out a breath.
“Not a problem. Just wanted to know if we should wait.”
“No. We don’t need to wait,” Scully said with a polite smile.
“Wonderful. Let’s get you set up and then we’ll take a look at your baby.”
Scully nodded and as the doctor readied the ultrasound machine, she laid down on the table, the paper even louder than before. She raised her shirt and unbuttoned her pants, pulling them down slightly.
Her mother lay her hand gently on her shoulder and she reached up and held it tightly.
“Everything is looking great on your end, Dana. Your weight, blood pressure, everything is where it should be at this point in your pregnancy. Do you have any concerns or questions?”
“No,” Scully whispered, choking back a laugh as tears filled her eyes. Mulder would have had questions, talking the doctor’s ear off, looking for information.
But he was not there. She did not know where he was and so there were no questions to be asked and then answered.
Taking a deep breath, she squeezed her mother’s hand as she exhaled and her mother squeezed back.
“Okay, let’s take a look here. The gel will be cold, but you know that, seeing as you’ve been here before.”
Scully, prepared for the coldness of it, still gasped as the gel was squeezed onto her stomach. The wand was then placed over it, Doctor Neil pressing firmly into her stomach.
“Okay… Now if this little one wants to be cooperative… Yeah, there we go,” the doctor said as a whooshing sound filled the room.
“Oh, God,” Maggie breathed, squeezing Scully’s hand tightly. “Listen to that. It’s a miracle.”
“I always feel that way myself,” the doctor chuckled, moving the wand further as Scully closed her eyes, tears threatening to choke her.
“Is… is the baby… okay?” she managed to get out.
“Oh yes, it looks great.”
“Oh, Dana. Isn’t it amazing? Look at the profile. Oh, you can see the heart beating. Look at that.” Her mother’s grip on her hand loosened slightly as she stepped closer to the screen. “Little hands. The nose… the mouth, oh… it’s so amazing. A small word for such a big thing, but Dana, look.”
“It’s okay?” she asked again, not looking as tears spilled from her eyes and pooled in her ears. “It’s… normal?”
“Of course it is,” Maggie said softly. “Right, Doctor? Everything is normal?”
“Everything is perfectly normal,” she said and Scully began to cry.
“Oh, honey,” Maggie said, coming back to her and hugging her, though the angle was slightly awkward. “The baby is perfect. It’s okay. Everything’s okay.”
“Would you like a moment alone?” the doctor asked, the wand on Scully’s stomach lifting.
“No,” she said through her tears. “Just… I’m alright. It’s just… I’ve been worried and… I’m okay.”
“Completely understandable,” the doctor said softly, the wand still off of her stomach as Scully tried to calm her tears.
“I’m okay, Mom,” Scully whispered, patting her mother’s arm and she pulled back, searching Scully’s face. “I’m okay. It’s all just… I’m okay. I want to proceed.” She sniffled and the doctor handed her a box of tissues. “Thank you.”
“Of course. It’s normal to be worried and concerned. Let me know when you’re ready to proceed.”
Scully nodded as she blew her nose and then grabbed another tissue to wipe her. Taking a deep breath, she nodded.
“I’m ready.”
“Okay,” the doctor said and the wand was placed back on Scully’s stomach along with a bit more gel.
Scully now stared at the screen, holding her breath, until she saw the profile of the baby and she smiled, tears once again filling her eyes.
“Everything is okay?” she whispered, needing assurance again.
“Everything looks great. Size, growth, heart rate… it all is right on target. Now, I can’t tell here, but…” the doctor said, moving the wand around. “Hmm… do you want to know the sex?”
“No,” Scully said, still staring at the screen, looking only for anything that might appear abnormal or worrisome.
“No?” Maggie asked, touching Scully’s shoulder. “You don’t? It would be so fun to know.”
“Not yet,” Scully whispered, not voicing her concerns and worries about her growing child. “I just want to be sure he or she is doing okay.”
“Yes, they are,” the doctor said. “Ohhh, would you look at that!”
“He’s sucking his thumb!” Maggie said with a laugh, squeezing Scully’s upper arm. “Oh, Dana. Look at him.”
“Or her,” Scully said softly, watching the baby suck its impossibly tiny thumb.
Mulder, she thought. I wish you were here. I wish you could see this. Your son… or daughter.
“I’ll print out some pictures for you. Would you both like some?”
“Oh,” Maggie said, her hand going to her mouth. “I… Dana?”
“Yes, for both,” Scully said, looking up at her mother with a smile. She looked down and bent to kiss Scully’s temple softly.
“Thank you,” Maggie whispered as Scully closed her eyes briefly.
The gel cleaned from her stomach, Scully readjusted her clothes and sat up, feeling a bit of a head rush. Breathing out, she waited for it to pass and then looked at her mother as she held the sheet of sonogram printouts. She was smiling as she traced her fingers over the baby’s profile, shaking her head with a hum.
“Just perfect,” she whispered and Scully prayed that she was right as she placed a hand on her stomach.
They left the doctor’s office and went to lunch, Maggie continuing to look at the sonogram photos, talking about the baby.
But Scully could only half listen, worrying about so many things. The baby, her work, and Mulder. Where was Mulder? Why could she not find him?
At home, she stuck the sonogram photo on the refrigerator with a magnet. Staring at it, at the proof of the miraculous life growing inside of her, it was too much and she had to take the photo down.
She knew she was pregnant, of course, but seeing it in black and white, it felt as if she was tempting fate. Asking for pain and heartache to find her.
She wanted to celebrate, to be excited, and there were moments when she was, but mostly she was worried and scared. Too much lay upon this pregnancy and the wonder it held. Too many things were unknown and she was not sure she wanted to face them.
_______________
Her mother came to the doctor with her again, but only once more.
And it had been during her lowest moment.
Mulder had been found, lifeless and beyond any healing she could provide for him.
Burying him, driving away from the snowy graveyard, had been one of the hardest things she had ever done.
A week after, as she had been lying on the couch in tears, Maggie had arrived to pick her up for an appointment she had been dreading. Helping her with her coat, adding tissues to the pockets, they drove to the doctor in near silence.
There was no excitement, only silence. After the doctor had left, new sonogram photos lying on the exam table, Scully had begun to sob.
Maggie had held her, rubbing her back and stroking her hair, saying nothing as Scully cried, her heart breaking.
After that, Scully saw the doctor on her own.
Not because she did not want her mother there, but because she cried every time and she did not want her to see. She did not like the feeling of vulnerability that overcame her every time she saw the doctor, nor did she want her mother feeling she needed to comfort her each time.
She wanted to be soothed and told it would be okay, but she also wanted to be alone in her grief, crying without being seen or heard.
Her mother never asked, not verbally anyway, but her eyes asked questions when Scully brought her new sonogram photos. She watched her mother each time, seeing the moment of excited happiness extinguished by the sadness as she sighed.
“Thank you, Dana,” Maggie whispered, the afternoon Scully came over with new photos after her latest appointment.
“Yeah,” Scully breathed, looking at the picture and then closing her eyes, wishing it was with Mulder that she was sharing this moment.
Look at him, Scully.
Or her.
No. It’s a boy, I can tell.
Oh, you can determine a baby's sex now? In utero? With no training on how to read an ultrasound?
Nah, I don’t need all that information. I just know.
Is that right?
Yeah, it is. I mean, I’m right most of the time about everything, why not about this?
“Oh,” Scully sobbed out, unable to stop herself, as she could so clearly hear his voice and picture his teasing smile.
Her mother looked up and then pulled her into her arms as Scully pitched forward slightly.
“It’s okay, Dana. It’s okay, honey.”
It’s not, she wanted to scream. And it never will be again.
But instead she cried, no longer caring if her mother witnessed her tears.
A sudden, big movement from the baby, caused her to pull back with a deep gasp as she gripped her mother’s arm.
“Ohhh,” she breathed, cradling her stomach with her other hand. “That was…”
“I felt that,” Maggie said in quiet awe, placing a hand on Scully’s stomach. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah. I’m…” Scully said, both hands on her stomach now, waiting to see if there would be another movement like that one. When nothing came, she looked at her mother with wet eyes. “I’ve never felt them move like that before.”
“Perhaps they sensed your sadness and wanted to help,” her mother offered and Scully looked at her incredulously.
“Mom,” she said, shaking her head. “That’s… it’s…”
“It is. But don’t discount things you may not understand.”
“You sound like Missy,” Scully whispered.
“Sometimes I wonder if she had it right,” Maggie said, tears filling her eyes. “Aside from the crystals and other things, I mean.”
They both laughed softly, wiping at their eyes. Scully put her arms around her mom and hugged her again as she closed her eyes.
“I know it’s not your belief, Dana. Nor mine really,” Maggie whispered, rubbing Scully’s back. “But sometimes we have to put our faith and thoughts in those that are unseen, not unlike our faith in God. We can’t see it, but we know it’s there. We can feel it.”
“It’s hard sometimes,” Scully whispered back and Maggie nodded.
“I know. I know it is,” Maggie agreed, pulling back and holding Scully’s face gently in her hands. She smiled and Scully closed her eyes as she took a deep breath. “This baby, Dana… they are nothing short of a miracle. Is it too far of a reach to believe that the two of you would have a connection beyond what you ever imagined?”
“Considering everything else in my life,” Scully said bittersweetly as she shook her head. “No, it’s not so far-fetched.”
Maggie smiled, stroking Scully’s cheeks with her thumbs before patting them softly and moving her hands.
“How about some tea?”
“I’d like that,” Scully said, nodding her head and placing her hand on her stomach again.
In the kitchen, Scully sat down carefully and took a deep breath.
“Mom?”
“Yes?”
“Would you come with me? To the next appointment?” She looked at her mother, the teapot held in her hand, and watched a series of emotions cross her face.
“I will always want to be there, but I leave it to you to make that decision. I understand if you’d rather go alone, I truly do.” She smiled and Scully breathed a sigh of relief.
“I’ll let you know next time. We could… do lunch again.”
“Yes. That would be nice,” Maggie said with a smile.
“Thank you, Mom. For understanding,” Scully said softly and her mother nodded as she filled the teapot with water and placed it onto the stove to heat up.
Forcing herself to not think about the many worries that were constantly plaguing her, Scully closed her eyes. Breathing in slowly, she caressed her stomach and listened to the familiar and comforting sounds of her mother humming quietly as she moved around the kitchen, preparing their tea.
It’s not okay, she thought. But I’m trying.
The baby moved gently under her hand, almost as though they were responding in sympathetic understanding, and Scully sighed as she smiled sadly.
Yeah. For both of us.
#the x files#xf Fanfic#msr#season 8#light angst#pregnancy#caring#worry#hurt and comfort#sadness#grief and mourning#mother/daughter relationship
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