right before she loses her husband

She’s Not a Little Girl Anymore

Peter and Lucy had always been close, anyone could see how close the oldest and youngest Pevensies were. Even when Peter married Y/N, he always found special time for his littlest sibling. While Y/N was away on political business, Peter was prone to nightmares and Lucy became his guardian angel and more often than not comforted him after waking him up.

Peter found himself running through the Shuddering Woods. His heart pounded away as he scoured for his family.

“Y/N!” he shouted, his voice echoing in the apparently empty woods. With no response, he continued to search for his wife. Peter looked far and wide, in desperation, trying to find her.

He stopped when he saw Y/N’s crown lying on the ground, Peter rushed forward to pick it up, his panic began to intensify at the sight. He walked a ways from where he found her crown and saw Y/N laying, rolled up in her cloak.

“Y/N,” he gasped turning her over to see her throat slit, “no,” he whispered, grabbing her, “no!”

“Peter,” Lucy shook her brother awake from his nightmare. He jolted awake, sitting up straight in his bed. “It’s okay,” the now 18 year old Lucy comforted her brother, who was dripping in a cold sweat.

“She was gone, Lu, her throat slit,” he panted.

“It was just a nightmare, Pete,” she grabbed his hand, “c’mon,” she pulled him towards the castle kitchen.

As the two Pevensies reached the kitchen, Peter had stopped panting and became more level headed. Lucy, while older, still found herself in need of brother’s assistance to reach the chocolate powder. Ever since being sent to the professor’s and in Narnia, Lucy and Peter found hot chocolate helped the other when they were going through a tough time, it became their little ritual.

“Still need my help, shorty?” Peter managed to crack lightly.

“Or maybe you’re just freakishly tall.” Lucy retorted as she sat down next to him with their mugs. She paused, “when you say her, you mean Y/N don’t you?”

“Always when she’s away,” Peter sighed, looking into his cup. “I just don’t want Charles growing up without a mother, he’s only 5, Lu.”

“He won’t,” Lucy patted her brother’s arm, “Y/N will come back and, who knows, maybe give Charles a sister,” she smiled leaning her head on his shoulder. Peter laugh a little, slinging his arm around her.

“I hope so,” Peter muttered again into his mug.

“Two more days, Pete,” Lucy added, closing her eyes, breathing in her brother’s scent.

Peter slowly finished his hot chocolate as Lucy lie, asleep, across his lap. He looked down at his little sister as he hit the bottom of the glass. “Twelve years,” Peter shook his head and picked her up, “you think I would have learned by now, Lu.” He started his way up to her room, climbing the stairs carefully, as to not wake her. Lucy snuggled into his chest as he came closer to her room. “Twelve years, since we started this little tradition and I still carry you to bed,” he came to her doorway and pushed it opened with his shoulder.

“You wouldn’t have it any other way,” she muttered simply as he laid her down.

“Goodnight, Lu,” Peter smiled, closing the door.

In the following days, Y/N returned home from Brenn with the young prince, Dimitris, and the princess, Celestia, as diplomatic guests at her side.

“Y/N,” Peter laughed happily upon seeing her step into view.

“Mommy,” Charles cheered, tearing away from his father, towards his mother. Peter took off after him.

“Hello my love,” Y/N smiled at her son, scooping him up and kissing him on the cheek. “Hello darling,” she smiled to her husband.

“I’m glad you’re home,” Peter beamed, kissing her forehead as the young royals stepped up.

“Peter, Charles, this is Celestia and her brother Dimitris the seventh, Prince and Princess of Brenn,” Y/N introduced.

That night at dinner, Lucy and Dimitris spoke to each other as if they were old friends. Y/N smiled as she watched the two talk animatedly. “They seem to be getting on well,” she muttered to her husband.

“I don’t like it,” Peter argued back quietly.

Y/N scoffed at her husband, “you don’t like it because this means she is growing up,” she countered

“She is my little sister but, where did the little girl who loved to chase butterflies go?” Peter stared at the two.

“She’s still there, Pete,” Y/N assured him, “but, now there’s a little more than butterflies on her mind.”

Days turned into weeks, weeks into months  and the visiting royals continued to stay in Narnian court. Peter and, well, everyone began to take notice of the growing affections between Lucy and Dimitris. Peter didn’t like the fact his little sister was growing up, that she wasn’t going to need him anymore, not one bit. He found himself often taking out his aggression on the training dummies in the field.

“Why do I have a feeling that you’re envisioning a certain visiting royal as you chop away at that training dummy?” Y/N asked from behind him.

Peter turned to her, dripping in sweat, “where’s Charles?” he panted, sheathing his sword.

“With Aunt Susan, in the market,” she answered stepping towards him. “Now, tell me what’s wrong,” she sat on the bench.

“Nothing,” Peter  answered, picking up daggers to throw.

“Sure, and in other news, did you know the sky is green? Peter, we’ve been married seven years and we’ve known each other way longer than that,” she pointed out.

Peter stopped, sighed, and sat down beside her, “I just don’t want to not be needed by my family. Su and Ed never really needed me anyway but Lucy? Lucy always comes to me with any problem she has.”

“And she always will.”

“Not if she marries him.”

“Marriage?” Y/N cocked her head to the side, “who said anything about-” realization hit her, “he asked you for her hand didn’t her?”

“He asked just this morning ,” Peter confirmed.

“What did you say?” she asked.

“That I had to talk to you,” he bit his thumbnail.

“Pete, as much as I hat to say it, Lucy isn’t a little girl anymore,” Y/N sighed.

“Marriage is a big step though,” Peter argued.

“They’ve known each other seven months, it’s not like they’d be getting married tomorrow,” she added.

“That’s such a short amount of time! We knew each other for years before we even thought about marriage.”

“Susan was engaged after a week, Edmund, six months,” Y/N argued, “what makes this any different?”

“Lucy never think ill of anyone. What if he’s cruel or ruins her spirit?” Peter looked to his wife with worry. “She’s the youngest and could easily be taken advantage of.”

“From what I’ve seen, in Brenn and Narnia,” Y/N started, “he is kind and gentle. Dimitris has such a good heart and treats everyone as his equal. Peter, I would never expect Lucy to marry anyone less. I think it is a good match, don’t you want her to be happy? Besides, you’ll still have three people as well as a kingdom to look after.”

“Three?” Peter looked at Y/N confused.

“Well, there’s me, of course. We can’t forget Charles, and…”  Y/N put a hand to her stomach, “makes three.”

“Oh my God, really?” Peter asked excitedly as Y/N grinned. He laughed, picking her up and swinging her around.

“Ew, you’re gross ad sweaty, put me down,” she laughed.

A year and a half and a birth to a baby girl, Florence, and her twin, Josephine, later Lucy’s big day arrived. Y/N and Susan helped prepared her as Edmund watched the children.

“I can’t believe this is happening,” Lucy grinned as Y/N tied the back of her dress.

“And to think, it nearly didn’t happen had Y/N not convinced Peter,” Susan smiled placing the baby’s breath wreath on her sister’s head.

“Thank you for that,” Lucy smiled to her sister-in-law.

“Just be glad I prolonged the wedding planning. I don’t think he would have liked it only taking four months,” Y/N grinned.

“You helped me plan as well as carrying not one but, two babies, caring for and raising a now 6 year old boy, as well as running a country with your husband,” Lucy remarked, “you could have asked me to wait three years.”

“You still look well-rested and beautiful,” Susan shook her head.

“What do you think, Lu?” Y/N shifted the attention off of herself.

“Beautiful,” Peter remarked from the doorway before coming into the room.

“You think?” Lucy turned to him, smoothing out the front of her dress.

“I know,” Peter smiled, offering her his arm.

“I suppose it’s that time,” Susan left.

“Remember what I told you,” Y/N whispered to her husband before leaving.

“I’m so proud of you,” Peter smiled, “you have become a beautiful young woman and I could not let you go to anyone less than the best which Dimitris is. I love you Lu,” Peter’s eyes filled with tears, “Y/N was right. You’re not a little girl anymore.”

“I’ll always be your little sister, Pete, you’re not going to lose me,” she smiled to her brother.

Peter cleared his throat, “shall we?”

The two Pevensies made their way into the church. With every step towards the alter, Peter’s gripped a little tighter as he fought back tears. When they came to the alter, Peter nearly couldn’t let her go but, then he saw Dimitris looking at Lucy the way he looked at Y/N and he knew. As usual, Y/N was right. He kissed her hand and gave her away to her husband to be. He came to stand by his wife and kids sill struggling with his tears.

Y/N reached down and grabbed his hand, “it’s supposed to hurt,” she whispered tenderly, “that’s how you know it means something.”

anonymous asked:

You are one of my absolute favorite bellarke fanfic authors ever and I just thought of this prompt and you're the only person I'd ever want to fill it!! Very simply, it's: Clarke catches a cold or the flu while she is pregnant. (And Bellamy loses his shit) I hope you like this prompt I will be crossing my fingers and toes! Thank you!!!

Don’t feel like flirting.

Okay, I know I should have filled this prompt months ago but yeah… Better late than never, right? Prepare yourself for some good fluff guys. Also, s/o to @asavelveteen for beta’ing my fic as always.

She knows he’s awake even before she opens her eyes because she can hear him walking around their room. With a sigh, she opens her eyes and rolls onto her back, searching for her husband. “Bellamy?” she whispers his name and the man quickly runs to her side, taking a seat next to her belly, finally starting to show.

They didn’t tell many friends about the baby. Only the closer ones know, besides the doctors. They know they won’t be able to keep it a secret for too long, seeing as Clarke’s belly is growing quickly enough that people will soon start to notice. They want to at least enjoy this period of peace alone, without everyone hovering around Clarke or teasing Bellamy.

Bellamy gives her a crooked smile. “Hey, baby.” He whispers, stroking the side of her face. “How you feeling?”

Clarke can barely keep her eyes open and her lips feel dry, as much as her throat does. “I’m better.” she lies and she knows Bellamy can tell. “Why’re you still awake? What time is it?” she finishes with a cough.

“It’s three in the morning.” he tells her, looking down at her hand before he takes it in his larger one. “And you’re burning up again.”

“I am?” she asks, and suddenly everything making sense. That’s why she feels so shitty and tired.

“Yeah. I woke up from your sweat soaking my clothes…” he strokes her knuckles with his thumb. “I was about to go to medical and grab some medicine. When I get back we’ll change you into new clothes and go back to sleep, okay?”

“M’kay.” she murmurs, fighting to keep her eyes open.

Bellamy smiles. “You know, I thought there was only one way for you to get our bed wet.” he smirks at his own joke. “You always want to prove me wrong, don’t you princess?”

Clarke starts to laugh but ends up coughing. “I have a fever, Bell. I don’t really feel like flirting with you.” she smiles. “Just go get the medicine and come back quickly. I’m cold.”

“Need your human pillow huh?” he jokes.

“I need some of your warmth, actually.” she corrects him and coughs again.

At her words, Bellamy’s smile fades and is replaced with worry and sadness. He can’t stop worrying about her when she’s ill like this. It kills him to see her this sick. He quickly pulls both blankets up to cover Clarke better before leaning down to kiss her. But Clarke’s hand under the covers lifts up to stop him in the middle.

“Don’t. You’ll catch the cold, too.” she stops him, giving him a sad smile. “We can’t afford both of us being sick. Who’s going to take care of me and freak out about everything then?”

“I don’t freak out about everything.” he argues, pulling back again. “Only the serious things. Like, let’s say, my pregnant wife being sick for over a week.”

“I have had worst.” she argues back and coughs again. “Now go. I want to go back to sleep as soon as possible and I can’t without you.”

“Okay, okay. You won’t even realize I was gone.” he promises and stands up to leave. Clarke gives him a nod and finally lets her eyes close as she hears Bellamy walk away. But before she can open her eyes again, Bellamy is above her, leaving a kiss on her forehead and then one on her belly and quickly jogging outside to get to medical.

Take It All Back

Part Seven

Summary: Journey starts a new school year. Jensen’s excitement over the baby clouds over Journey’s concerns.
Pairing: Jensen x OFC (Journey)
Word Count: 1780
Warnings: Pregnancy, mild drinking.


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anonymous asked:

69, 18, 13? For sirius x reader? I've mever requested something like this before so im not sure if i did it right :)

Hope this is alright my dear. ENJOY! (I apologies is this was not where you intended this story to go)

69. “We need to talk.” 18. “What’s the matter, sweetie?” 13. “I lost our baby.”

You lay on the couch, hair a mess from your sleep having decided today was a lazy day. Sun crept through the window, afternoon setting itself in as you nestled in the perfect spot to catch the warmth basking in it as your fingers brushed through pages of the book you were reading. Captured in the words you were unaware of any of your surroundings but the faint rays cascading over the bold text before you. Sirius had offered to take care of your child today leaving a well deserved day of rest for you. Your beautiful baby girl had grown to be just like her daddy, 3 years old with black hair, a devious smirk and she was a mischievous little trouble maker, forever your baby. When you rose in the morning with a heavy arm around your waist your shifting woke the thick messy haired man beside you as he stretched and craned his neck over to brush his lips across your neck to your jaw whispering for you to rest longer and he would get your daughter up. She couldn’t have been happier to spend a day with dad as they bounced around the house playing games, singing songs and dancing as Sirius awoke the wonder in her eyes with simple spells.

“Darling,” you hear a voice shifting you from the fictional world you roamed. Closing your book you felt his hands rest on your shoulders as you placed it on the coffee table in front of you. He pressed his hands in rubbing your shoulders in the most wonderful way leaning down as your neck twisted so your lips could meet. He pulled away shortly, however, moving from behind the couch to sit in the armchair to your right. “Darling, we need to talk.” his voice was serious, many thoughts swam through your mind, none of them positive and for a moment you had wished you were back the comfort of your book. Your lips trembled slightly as you stuttered out the only response you could think to speak, “What’s the matter, sweetie?” His eyes met the floor hands locking over his lap as fingers fiddled with each other. “Sirius, what is it?” your voice had become firm legs winding from underneath you on the couch to directly down on the floor below you. Black hair drifting back his head rose, eyes meeting yours curtained with furrowed brows. “I lost our baby.” it was all he said and silence shook the room. “You what?” You couldn’t believe what he had just said. Lost? He lost her? Your beautiful baby girl? “what do you mean you lost our baby?” you couldn’t hold the waver in your voice as finger trembled, rising to your feet you couldn’t stop yourself from pacing, bare feet padding across the floorboards. Sirius stood following a few steps behind your paces as he tried to explain. “Okay, doll it’s not as bad as it seems okay?”


“O…Okay yeah it sounds bad, okay but I swear it’s fine.”


“Okay, not fine.”


“I don’t know darling. We were playing hide and seek an-”

“Oh Jesus Sirius you were just playing hide and seek?” you were fuming. How had he lost your daughter just playing hide and seek? She could be anywhere! He tried to grip your waist stopping you from walking but you shoved him off not in the mood for his affections that stop your anger. This time though he didn’t give up, his fingers ran over your waist locking behind you on your back below your shirt as he made it impossible to step away or avoid his eye. “My Love she’s in the house, I made a rule, I’m not that irresponsible-” he was cut short by a look, he was totally that irresponsible, “okay I’m not ALWAYS that irresponsible okay! She knows the rules were to stay in the house, so she is definitely here okay? I promise.” a breath escaped your parted lips a small sense of relief running through you, soon you inhaled strongly wiggling again from his grip to escape the grip ready to go on a mission to find your daughter. You decided to team up with Sirius abandoning the comfort of the lounge grabbing his hand and dragging him so he almost tripped.

You spent hours together looking behind curtains, crawling to your knees checking under beds, cupboards, the bathtub, washing machine, absolutely everywhere you could think to look and you couldn’t find a single trace of her. Beginning to lose hope you once again gripped Sirius’ hand trying to gain some comfort in his touch, normally this worked but now, it seemed nothing would be right again. Until you heard a faint yell from the kitchen. Sprinting over, your long haired husband in tow the voice of your baby grew as the pair of you clambered through the cupboards opening and closing doors before finding your rosy cheeked little girl with tears spilling over her eyes wedged in the back of the cupboard under the sink. She had found herself stuck behind the pipes her arms trapped behind her head and pulling on her hair. Sirius’ strong hands were delicate only with you and your daughter, he gently placed his hands on her untangling her arms and taking her small waist and pulling her tiny form from between the pipes. Tears filling eyes ran down cheeks that pressed to the leather resting on your husband’s shoulders as he held her close wiping her eyes dry before handing her to you and resting his head on your shoulder.

THIS IS NOT MY FAULT (this is totally my fault) 3/3


Based on this idea, which is basically what would have happened if after anidala’s marriage they got drunk and spilled the “we got married!” news. And then Anakin gets talking about his creepy relationship with Palpatine and the Naberries sue the order because NAH SON, THAT’S ENDANGERMENT, WATCH YOUR YOUNGLINGS!


Part One | Part two

Padme comes back into the house, laden with flowers and silk ribbons for flower arrangements, to her mother’s guilty expression. She narrows her eyes and scans the room for Anakin, who is nowhere to be seen, and then sets her things down onto the arrangement table in the corner.

“What have you done?” She gets right to the point, crossing her arms over her chest, as she stares her mother down. The older woman sighs but also doesn’t lose the guilty look.

“I felt bad about last night so I offered to clear the air between your new husband and I. And, before you say anything about him being on assignment or anything like that, may I remind you that the two of your got married two days ago? So, you can’t use that to be upset with me.” Her mother says and Padme groans, reaching up to pinch the bridge of her nose.

“Tell me you didn’t force him to match you treat per treat.” She says, wishing she had thought to warn Anakin before she let her father drag her outside to the gardens.

“He seemed to be doing fine at first but then I got a little carried away and…well, I suppose it’s only fair that you’re both rather lightweights?” Her mother says, phrasing the last as a question, and shrugging one shoulder. Padme pushes past her mother to get to the informal sitting room and sure enough there is Anakin, sprawled put on a couch.

“Anakin?” She asks, going to him to check him over. He smiles at her boyishly, his whole face lighting up, and he sits up to reach out to hold her hand. When his fingers touch hers, a shock of what feels like static electricity shoots up her arms and for a moment she feels like the world tilts and she almost stumbles.

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Why does this fandom always dismiss all the hardships that Daenerys has been through?

I don’t get why ASOIAF and Game of Thrones fandom dismisses everything Dany’s been through. Of course the boys all have their fans and defense leagues focused on their manpain; until Season 5, we had to hear all about Stannis the Mannis, too. I’ve seen fans of characters like Sansa, Margaery, and even Catelyn and Cersei defending their thoughts, actions, and decisions because of the various tragedies and hardships they’ve faced. 

Arya gets much less of this defense, which frustrates me. Her detractors always talk about her killing, and yet, they don’t have much to say about her witnessing her father’s murder, or her experience as a child refugee in the war-torn Riverlands, living under the daily threat of rape and murder for years. So many fans take Arya’s survival for granted, or even pooh-pooh it by saying “oh she always had some grown man protecting her” as if her pain can be dismissed.

But when it comes to Dany, I never hear much talk about her suffering, just that she’s “superpowered,” would be “nothing without her dragons,” has no personality (in the books and on the show), is an insufferable White savior, is the walking embodiment of White feminism (lol to both - I’m Black, I’m woke, and I love her, I’m not alone, if everyday Black Twitter & Tumblr have a fave, it’s “Khaleesi” by far), and the list goes on and on and on…

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flowersfangsandfire  asked:

X for Lafayette?

Lafayette knew how much trouble he was in when Grandmother herself came to pick him up from the village. She had profusely thanked the man who had found him, and assured him she would properly discipline the boy. Lafayette thought he saw the man wince in sympathy as Grandmother dragged him out by his ear.

“Stupid,” Grandmother said to him, once they had gotten in the carriage and were on their way back to the manor. “Even if the Beast of Gévaudan were anything but tattle, to think that you could fight anything bigger than a ladybug.”

Lafayette bristled internally at that, but knew better than to say anything, much less tell her about his ingenious plan to drop a very large rock on the beast. Grandmother sighed heavily and toyed with the top of her cane. “I do not know what to do with you, Gilbert. The whole village will be laughing about the silly Lafayette boy now. You know this is not how men in our family are supposed to behave.”

Here, Grandmother was clearly wrong, and Lafayette could not help himself but to correct her. “I’m supposed to fight,” he said, a little angrier than he meant to show. “All the men in my family fight. My father fought.”

An odd look came over Grandmother’s face. The carriage had stopped and Lafayette heard the steps of the foot servant outside, but Grandmother called out, “A moment.”

Grandmother stood and then knelt before him on the carriage floor. “Gilbert,” she said. “You’re right, your father fought. And now your father is dead.” Lafayette stared at her, more frightened by the difficulty with which she spoke the words than with any of her prior scolding. “Your father is dead, and your mother, and my husband, and so, so many others. And so many of them died in battle, Gilbert.”

Lafayette was still too scared to move. She continued. “We are very much alone now, you and I,” she said. “And so I cannot lose you.”

Grandmother ducked her head down and Lafayette thought for a moment he saw her eyes shining, and that was enough to make his well up. “I’m sorry, Grandmother, I’m sorry. I only wanted to help.”

“I know, Gilbert, I know.” Now she sounded more like her usual self, if a bit wearier than normal. “But there are other, better ways to help.”

Lafayette knew about those ways, being polite with Grandmother’s guests and paying attention during his lessons. They were much, much less interesting than hunting monsters. But he nodded dutifully. Grandmother did not seem to believe him though, and eyed him down. “Gilbert,” she said after a moment. “Do you know about knights?”

Did he know about knights. “Of course, Grandmother,” he said. “I read all about them, I know the ones that—“

“Yes, yes,” she said impatiently. “You know they fight for the king, they carry out his mission, yes?”

“Of course, Grandmother!”

“Well, I am no king,” she said. “But would you like to be my knight?” Lafayette stared at her, puzzled, and she smiled. “You will fight, of course, you are a Lafayette. But your mission is to be the strongest, the best knight, so that no other can defeat you. Your mission is to keep yourself safe until you can truly fight, because otherwise you will be risking your cause. You will do your family name justice, and you will do your duty to me.” She straightened up and looked down on him. “Does that agree with you, Gilbert?”

Lafayette nodded rapidly and she laughed. She took her cane and tapped him on each shoulder. “You know, Sir Lafayette, this does mean you will need to do better in your lessons.”

Lafayette quickly looked over at her, suspicious that this was an elaborate ploy to get him to do all that boring stuff without complaining. But she simply knocked on the door with her cane and stepped down from the carriage, calling over her shoulder, “To your room, Sir Lafayette. You are still being punished.”

“Yes, my liege,” he grumbled.

Our Lives are Told in Moments

Aaron x Female Reader


Word Count: 2185

Request: Can I request a Aaron Burr x reader where Aaron thinks about all his memories with baby Theodosia and the reader before dueling Alexander

A/N: Sorry for the little hiatus there! Midterms are finally over, and while I really did not do good on them, we are moving on. I am so excited to be writing again, but apparently I’m a little rusty because this is so choppy, and just overall not as good of quality as usual. To the requester: I have no idea if this is what you had in mind, but if it isn’t I sincerely apologize. This takes place right after the duel. Pretend Aaron’s wife was still alive. And I am sincerely sorry for the angst. Enjoy!

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“Mate, you need to eat something. Come to the cafeteria with us, and we’ll buy you something. You can’t just stay here” Louis pleads, as he placed a hand to Harry’s shoulder. The sight broke Louis’ heart; he’d never seen Harry so distant and upset before, and he worried. His arms were folded on the hospital bed beside you hip, with his chin resting on his forearms and his forehead placed against your body. “H, c'mon. The doctors will call for us if something happens” He added, as Harry looked to him. His eyes sunken and sullen, full of grey and distance.

“I’m okay, Louis. I just want to stay here. Just in case something happens. I don’t want to leave her” Harry whispered, his voice raw and scratchy, and his throat was burning. “You can bring me some water up, and that’ll do me” He added, as Louis sighed softly, his mouth opening before he was cut off. “Louis, don’t. You’d understand if your wife was laying here, cut up and bruised because of some drunk bastard!” He hissed, as he stood up from the plastic chair and looked to Louis.

“You can’t even begin to imagine what is going through my mind right now! She, that beautiful and caring woman in that hospital bed, doesn’t deserve this. She’s my wife and I vowed to fucking protect her! Look at that, huh?! I failed one husband task already! And it’s only been 4 weeks! 4 weeks, Louis! I could lose my wife after 4 weeks of being married to her! You don’t know how that feels! I wanted to grow old with her, and have children. I wanted a baby. A beautiful little girl who looked like her mother. Because there needs to be more people like her!” Harry sobbed, his cheeks wet and reddening up. Louis felt his own eyes well up with tears, his arms opened wide for Harry.

“She’ll pull through, Harry. She’s a fighter, of course. Look who she learnt that from, hm? You” Louis smiled, as he felt the tears seep into the material of his shirt. “I know you won’t come with me nor Niall, but can we get you something? A flapjack, maybe?” He asked, as Harry shook his head.

“Just a water and maybe a banana. M'not that hungry” Harry whispered, as he shuffled across the floor and sat back down in the chair, his hand gripping yours tightly. “Thank you, Louis” He mumbled, as Louis smiled and gave his shoulder a pat.

• • •

“I wish… I just wish I was there that night, ya'know? I don’t care that it was a friend’s bachelorette party, I wouldn’t have minded. I had a gut instinct something was going to happen. When I got that call, it made me feel like I was the one dying. It was a stab in the chest, you know?” Harry whispered, as he kissed the back of your cold hand. “I love you so much, baby. I need you to pull through. I know I can be annoying at times, but don’t leave me just yet” He added, his voice weakening and his hands gripping yours tightly.

“I need you to wake up. Please. I can’t be alone. I can’t go around without my sunshine following me. You hear me? Without you, my days will be dull. You light them up, and I love that about you. Please, please wake up” He whispered, his chin wobbling as he looked to your peaceful yet whitened face. “I feel like I’ve failed. I’m already the worst husband of the year, and you can give me a playful beating to make up for it” He chuckled, a wet chuckle leaving his lips. “Come on, love. My beautiful Mrs Styles. My beautiful, beautiful bride. I love you…

… I love you so, so much”

• • •

He felt like his world had turned upside down, when he was ushered from the room and told to stay away until everything had been sorted. His heart broke when he watched your body lapse into a fit of some kind, and his shaky hands pressed the red button continuously above the bed. To make sure that the staff of the hospital needed to attend the urgency.

“Hey.. Hey. Come here” Sophia sobbed, as she pulled Harry in for a hug. “It’s okay, lovey. It’s okay. It’s all going to be fine. She’s a little trooper, our (Y/N). She’ll be right as rain” She smiled, as Liam gave Harry’s arm a squeeze.

“Haz, mate. Come and sit down, yeah? You need sleep” Liam begged, as he watched his arms unravel from Sophia. “C'mon. Have a sit down, and we’ll wake you it there’s any news. Okay? (Y/N) wouldn’t want you torturing yourself like this” Liam stated, as Harry fell into the chair in between where Sophia’s bag laid and where Niall was tapping away on his phone. His head lolled to the side and his eyes closed in an instant, making Niall chuckle lightly.

“He’s out already. This is really killing him. It makes me want to hunt down that drunk fucker and make him like that as well” Louis hissed, as he took a sip of coffee from the paper cup in his hands. “She’s too lovely and nice and caring to be in that state. You shoulda seen Harry earlier. I’ve never seen him like that” Louis mumbled, as he heard the various beeps and machines from inside the hospital room. Harry’s head nudged and fell to Niall’s shoulder, his lips parted as soft snores left his throat.

“I had a feeling there was a strong bond between her and H. When he met her, he never shut up about her. And then 5 years later, look at ‘em. 4 weeks into marriage. S'incredible, really” Liam smiled, as he sat in the seat across from Harry and rubbed his eyes. “Can you peek in the room, Lou? See what’s happening?” His face dropping when he received a shake from Louis.

“I can hear the heartbeat monitor. So, that’s a good thing. Just need the confirmation that everything went smoothly” Louis stated, as he leant against the wall beside the door. His ears perked and ready for any behaviours.

• • •

A few hours into the morning, and Harry felt like the happiest man ever. The doctor walked from the room you were settled in with a grin on his face. And that’s when Harry knew that you were okay.

“She’s stable, and conscious. And asking for her husband” The doctor smiled, as Harry stood from the seat and shook the doctors hand. “Go and see her, Mr Styles. Be careful of her ribs, though. A few had been fractured during the hit of the driver, but she should be fine within a few weeks” He smiled, as Harry gushed and walked into the room.

The sight made everyone smile as they walked into the hospital room; a happy Mr Styles, and a conscious and healthy looking Mrs Styles.

Everything was okay.

Harry had nothing to worry about anymore. Not now that his wife was back with him.


She leaves home to marry and have kids with an apostate, knowing life wouldn’t be easy, and she not only has our Hero Hawke but tWO MORE CHILDREN, ONE OF WHOM TURNS OUT TO BE A MAGE LIKE HER DADDY

and does Leandra ever falter? Probably not.

but losing Bethany or Carver to the Ogre in the beginning of da2? After losing her husband and her home? It hurts! Oh my god, they got so far and were doing so good, and then her children whom she has protected all her life died protecting her

and I think Bethany’s is a little more painful because 1) I play as a male hawke so there goes her only daughter and 2) she especially had to protect Bethany from Templars and to go so far and do so good protecting her from Templars to see her daughter literally smashed and destroyed and killed right before her eyes because her daughter tried to protect her

same with carver

and it’s not really fair of her to blame Hawke but I can understand it at the same time because Hawke is the Older Sibling who has spent all of their life protecting their younger sibling and this one time they fail miserably at that

and then Leandra dies because Hawke isn’t fast enough again but even as she dies Leandra is like “its okay, I love you, i’ll be with our family but you’ll be alone” and oh my god I love the woman

anonymous asked:

john is the most single and frustrated begrudgingly pre-law major there is is when he starts looking for a ghost bf

I have zero time to write this, if only because I know myself and I know it would sprawl into a huge, hundreds of thousands of words verse with a zillion side characters and side-stories and I already HAVE one of those, SO, here are MY THOUGHTS as not!fic:

John’s a senior studying some flavor of government, filled with dread as law school applications loom in the future, and preparing himself for three years of hell to achieve his father’s dream life, which looks nothing like his own dream life. He’s definitely not putting all his effort into classes because, god, he just doesn’t care, there are days he can barely get out of bed let alone write another fucking essay about some crusty old white dudes who liked to oppress people when they weren’t busy writing about freedom and justice. He barely has time for his friends, let alone time for dating, and he has A Reputation for going out for drinks, getting all up in some dude’s business and either beating the shit out of him or fucking him and then never seeing him again.

His friend Herc, FIT student by day, bartender by night, hears about some weird paranormal club meeting in the backroom of his bar and tries to talk the gang into attending. Lafayette and Martha are game, maybe because Herc promises them free drinks, but John has to be needled into coming along.

“Maybe you’ll meet a boy,” Martha says.

“It’s a ghost club,” John says flatly.

“Well, maybe you’ll meet a ghost boy.”

Keep reading

the best day

(another for @thehalcyonclub ’s taylor swift writing night!)

annabelle irwin was everything you and ashton could have asked for.

she had taken nearly two years to come along, months of feverish trying and doctor visits. it wasn’t an easy journey, but she was worth it. she was perfection. golden wavy hair and dimples to mirror her father’s, but your eyes and nose. until her little brother, austin, came along three years after her (much to yours and ashton’s surprise; you hadn’t been trying at all) she was the only thing in your world that mattered. the true apple of both yours’ eyes.

at five, she was the ultimate daddy’s girl. she didn’t go anywhere without her hand in his, even now as she dragged him through the pumpkin patch in search of the perfect one. he didn’t seem to mind having to crouch and run as she skipped around in her search, getting into it while you followed a few feet behind, austin hoisted up onto your hip. his arms were thrown around your neck, using you for warmth in the chilly autumn air and as a pillow as he slept his busy day away.

in front of you, annie seemed to be telling her father an animated story, something about princesses and pirate ships. being ashton, of course he was egging her on, helping her name the characters and come up with complex plot ideas. they were both giggling, and you were smiling as you followed–this was what you always wanted. this was perfect, you couldn’t be happier.

“what about this one, annie?” ashton suddenly interrupted her story, pointing at a little pumpkin with a long stem on the corner of the bunch. annie paused abruptly, surveying the pumpkin her daddy pointed out. it took only a moment of intense concentration before her face broke out into a huge smile.

“that’s the one, daddy!” she exclaimed excitedly. “that’s the one, that’s it!”

“perfect choice, princess,” he replied, leaning down to peck her forehead before grabbing the pumpkin and saying, “i’m going to go tell the nice man we want this one, okay sweetheart? do you want to stay here with austin and mumma or come with me?” you smiled as she instantly wrapped her arms around ashton’s leg, hugging it tightly.

“with you!” she chanted. “daddy, i wanna go with you!”

“oh, all right,” ashton agreed, sounding reluctant, but the grin on his face proved the opposite. “but first… you have to escape the clutch of the evil pirates!” he scooped her up into his arms then, and she shrieked in laughter as ashton jogged with her over to the man running the small pumpkin farm. sighing and smiling, you softly pressed your lips to austin’s forehead before starting for the car, hoping to get your sleeping toddler buckled in before your energetic preschooler and equally as sprightly husband could get back.

“but daddy, golden skies make pirates lose their power,” annie was saying as they approached, still over ashton’s shoulder. all he could do was laugh, handing you the pumpkin before setting her back down.

“is that so?” he asked, still smiling at her.

“yes!” she told him enthusiastically. “the sky is gold right now daddy, so you don’t have any power!” at this, he rolled his eyes gently and ruffled her hair.

“alright, kiddo… but this isn’t over!” she giggled at how silly her daddy was before he grabbed her hand again, giving it a little sqeeze. “get in the car now, annie, we gotta get austin home so he can sleep in his bed.”

“but i’m not tired!” she said, but didn’t protest when ashton lifted her up into the backseat. by now she could buckle herself in, so ashton simply closed her door and joined you in the front.

“of course not,” he said, making sure all was calm in the back before starting the engine to the car and beginning to back out of the driveway.

“daddy?” annie’s voice was quiet from the backseat, and when you looked at her, her eyes were already beginning to droop.

“yeah, honey?”

“why do the trees change in fall?”

“because they need to get ready for winter, princess.”

within minutes, annie was asleep in the backseat. ashton kept stealing fond glances at her and austin in the backseat mirror he had gotten installed, nearly every 10 seconds as he drove the whole family home. the sky was indeed golden, and the drive home in the beautiful light had everyone in the car at peace, calm and extremely fond of each other.

“today was the best day,” ashton mumbled after a few moments, reaching over to grab your hand and place a kiss to your knuckles. “really amazing.”

“well, that’s good,” you mumbled sleepily. “if it had been a bad day, god, i might’ve had to have sex with you tonight to make up for it. it’s good it was good, i’m spared.” you yawned, but watched him stiffen from the cracks in your eyes. it took him a second, but he finally got to the right response.

“…today was a very bad day,” he amended, making you laugh. “i… mike and cal and luke kicked me out of the band. and i… i killed a man.”

“oh man…” you giggled, casting him a fond look but rolling your eyes at his eagerness. “that is a really bad day. well, i suppose after we put the kids to bed…”

let me live that fantasy

get to know our members challenge: favourite rare-pairs – blaise zabini & ginny weasley (2/5) – maggie

setting: fairytale AU
word count: 2223
a/n: alternately: blinderella

and baby I’ll rule, I’ll rule, I’ll rule, I’ll rule
let me live that fantasy
- Royals, Lorde

Once upon a time, in a Kingdom far, far away, there lived a charming but lonely prince…

“Sir,” the young man pressed, trying to regain the interest and attention of the tall dark-skinned Prince sitting in front of him. “It really is imperative that you find someone to marry. Without a bride, you-” 

“Theo.” The man spoke, finally. His voice was bored, nearly flat, and he lounged a little further across the throne he would soon inherit. “I’ve met a dozen princesses from a dozen different kingdoms. Do you know what they had in common?” 

Theo sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. If Blaise hadn’t been one of his best friends since childhood, he would have quit years ago. The man was insufferable, but one day he would rule the entire kingdom, and someone had to at least try and advise him in the right direction. “Riches? Beauty? Childbearing hips?” 

Keep reading

OKAY REAL TALK so I was trolling the internet (okay fine more like stalking Eliza Schuyler Hamilton’s wikipedia page) and crunched some numbers to realize why this woman deserves sainthood: so we know her son and her husband died like 3 years apart but there is SO MUCH MORE. And there’s probs been a post about this already but I NEED TO VENT. So first off, her beloved husband cheats on her, publishes all about it so everyone’s like “daaaaamn eliza can’t keep her husband satisfied” ;) btw her brother died two years before that, he was only 30 but considering three of her other siblings didn’t even make it past 1 year…ANYWAYS and then her sister (and peggy) dies in March of 1801 and eight months later, her son dies in a duel. HORRIFIC RIGHT OH WAIT THERES SO MUCH MORE. SO her daughter loses her mind after Philip’s death and she gives birth to a kid they were afraid she was going to miscarry over her grief from Philip. She gets a few years…OH WAIT her mother dies in 1803. And then BAM her husband decides it’s a fabulous idea to go fight a duel (that he possibly threw away his shot in who really knows) in July of 1804, leaving her with SEVEN CHILDREN. Four months later, her father dies. She is now, technically, an orphan. She gets 10 years with Angelica but then NOPE SHE IS ALONE with her children and her grief. AND STILL she survives for FORTY FREAKING MORE YEARS forming an orphanage, trying to get her husband’s legacy published (BTW IT DIDNT HAPPEN UNTIL AFTER HER DEATH, HER SON FINALLY GOT OFF HIS LAZY BUM AND FINISHED IT BUT NOT IN ENOUGH TIME FOR HER TO SEE IT WITH HER OWN EYES) and still living her life. DAMN STRAIGHT BEST OF WIVES AND BEST OF WOMEN.

tldr: Eliza Schuyler Hamilton deserves to be a goddamn saint no matter what anyone else says

buckybarnes-in-gallifrey  asked:

Could you please continue the World War II spies fic!!! It is sooooo good :)

(you can read the first part here)

“It’s your fault,” Rose hissed.

“I know,” the Doctor admitted.

“You just had to play the hero,” she grumbled.

“It worked before!” He complained.

“You were working alone before!” She snapped, before abruptly falling silent as one of Hitler’s generals entered. 

“Everything is ready, sir, madam,” he said, and bowed. “If you will follow me.”

Rose lifted her head and the hem of her dress, ignoring the Doctor with all the scorn she could muster. The Doctor followed meekly along.

When Rose had agreed to help him, she had imagined a quick job, maybe a nice dinner and some wine before being dropped back off at the pub. She never imagined the Doctor grabbing the wrong papers and Rose being named as his fiancee instead, and a very drunk Fuhrer declaring that they should be married to bless the war effort. Everyone had unanimously agreed, and though Rose was livid at the Doctor she had played along for the sake of their covers.

And since Hitler had declared he had the right to marry them, this marriage would be, to all intents and purposes, legal.

Eva Braun, Hitler’s mistress, had somehow procured a white dress and the Doctor kept his current tux. The foyer had been transformed into a very rough wedding aisle while Rose changed and fixed her hair, and thirty minutes later she was at one side of the aisle and the Doctor was at the other.

Hitler was still drinking a glass of wine as he recited the marriage vows, and if anyone noticed the bride and groom were a bit too stiff for a couple supposedly deep in love, no one said anything. When it came time for them to kiss, Hitler toppled, and in the rush of people caring for him she and the Doctor were able to avoid scrutiny.

“At least we get to spend the night,” Rose muttered as the Fuhrer batted away the helping hands and declare them husband and wife. There was a cheer and the alcohol was once more flowing.

Eva showed them to a room about an hour later, giving them a wink before disappearing back downstairs. “I am getting out of this dress, and will play lookout as you go through his documents. But after that we’re getting a divorce.”

He grinned at her. “Oh come now, surely I’m not that bad a choice for a husband?”

Rose sighed as she looked him over. He did have gorgeous blue eyes and rather great hair that curled artistically, and Rose would be lying if she said she hadn’t wondered about what type of body was hidden under his layers. But they had only known each other for a week, and while he was a brilliant man and Rose felt comfortable around him, she didn’t love him.

“You’re a magnificent choice for a husband,” she finally said. “But I always thought I would marry because I was in love. Not… not because of a war,” she finished softly.

He smiled sadly and pulled her into a hug. “I’m sorry, Rose,” he said softly. “The war has taken things from me, too. The most we can do is find a way to finish it so we don’t lose anything more.”

Rose blinked back her tears, hugging him tighter for a second before relaxing. “Right. Might as well start preparing ourselves. We have a theft to carry out while not arousing suspicion.”

He pressed a kiss to her forehead. “After which we can divorce and you can return to your mum in England.”

“And you to the manor house on the beach,” Rose said, smiling. “Where you can ‘stargaze until the universe reveals it’s deepest mysteries.’”

The Doctor chuckled. “Don’t damn it until you experience it.”

She pulled away and was heading to the en suite when the Doctor called after her. She looked at him in curiosity. “If I were to ever marry, it would be to you,” he said, and quietly slipped out the door.

Rose was left shaking at the deep honesty and regret in his voice, wondering just when a simple undercover mission had become so personal.

blast from the past

REQUEST: can you do a bucky x reader imagine where Bucky’s wife from the 40s is taken and experimented by HYDRA (after Bucky’s death)? Bucky (in modern times) finds her just as young as she was in the 40s.

(Y/n) never in a million years would have expected her life to be this way. She had a good life before it was taken away from her. She was married to the man who she thought was the love of her life.

James Buchanan Barnes.

They were only married for a year before he went off to war. (Y/n) was devastated but she knew that he had to go and defend their country. At first she had Steve Rogers, Bucky’s best friend around, but then he went off to war too.

She was alone and lived everyday in fear that she would never see Bucky or Steve again. She didn’t want to get a letter saying that he was gone forever.

(Y/n) tried to go on with her everyday life. She tried to go out with friends during the day to get her mind off of things but she couldn’t escape her thoughts.

Then one day, (Y/n) was home doing some cleaning when the doorbell rang. She went to answer it, smoothing out her dress a little before opening the door.

Standing on her porch were two men dressed in all black.

“Are you Mrs. (Y/n) Barnes?” the one on the right asked her.

“Yes, what can I help you gentlemen with?” (Y/n) questioned.

One of the men took a step forward, “We are going to need you to come with us. It’s about your husband, James.”

(Y/n) felt her heart stop before rapidly beating again, “About James? Wha- Has something happened to him?! What is going on?!”

The men didn’t speak, instead just looked at her like she was losing her mind. She felt like she was.

“Someone tell me what the hell is going on!” (Y/n) shouted. She knew it wasn’t polite to curse at the gentlemen but she couldn’t help it. She needed to know what was going on with her husband.

One of the men took something out of his pocket. It was a little spray bottle.

“What is–” (Y/n) never got to finish her sentence. The man sprayed whatever substance he had in the bottle in her face. She was knocked out cold within seconds.

That was seventy years ago.

(Y/n) had become the assassin that Hydra had always dreamed of. She was put through countless experiments and her memory had been wiped clean. They kept her frozen most of the time throughout the years, taking her out when they needed her to go on missions. They took her to get back at her husband. When he didn’t cooperate with the experiments at first, she was taken as a hostage but ended up being so much more.

They called her Agent X. (Y/n) had become one of their greatest experiments. She was stronger, faster and tougher than before. (Y/n) was credited for fifty assassinations throughout her years with Hydra.

What she didn’t know was that her husband was in the same facility going through the same things as she was. Bucky had been brainwashed and made into an assassin just like his wife.

It was one day where (Y/n) was being held down in her usual room when she first heard the explosions. They went off one after the other and she heard shouting from out in the hallway. (Y/n) saw people running from the small window in her room.

Her hands had been restrained to the metal table she was lying on. She struggled to get herself loose so that she could defend herself from whatever was coming.

Gunshots sounded off nearby and then she heard banging coming off from outside her door. Someone was trying to break in the room she was held in.

The door burst open and came off the hinges. In walked a man dressed in all black carrying a gun. Something triggered (Y/n)’s memory to a time she once saw two men in all black on her doorstep. She shook it off and looked at back at the stranger.

(Y/n) saw the man lowering his gun once he locked eyes with her. He had long dark hair and piercing blue eyes.


(Y/n) was confused. The stranger was clearly talking to her because there was no one else in the room. “Who the hell is (Y/n)?”

“I can’t– I can’t believe it’s you.” The man whispered. Somewhere in the building another bomb went off.

“Tell me who the hell you are.” (Y/n) ordered. He was making her confused and she didn’t like being confused.

“My name is Bucky.”

“How do you know me?”

“Well, we–”

“We what?”

“We are married. You’re my wife and I haven’t seen you in seventy years.”

(Y/n) didn’t know how to process it. What would any normal person do when a stranger came and told them that they were married? How would they react?

“I’m not your wife. I don’t even know you!” She shouted. It was all becoming too much. More gunshots could be heard and she knew that it was probably chaos out there.

“I have to get you out of here, okay? I need to get you somewhere safe.” Bucky walked over and started to free her.

“How am I supposed to trust you? I don’t even know you.”

Bucky stopped and looked at her, “Because I know exactly what you went through. I know what those men put you through, the torture, the brainwashing. I know the things that they made you do. I’m going to get you help because you are still the woman that I fell in love with all those years ago. I know you don’t remember me or anything now, but you are going to be okay with help. I’ll be right there with you. I just need for you to trust me, (Y/n).”

(Y/n) knew that if she stayed she would die. She didn’t know why but something made her want to go with him. It was a feeling that she couldn’t control.

Bucky released the restraints on her and held his hand out for her to take, “I can’t leave you here. Please, trust me.”

She mulled it over for a moment. There was a lot running though her head in that moment. She knew that she wasn’t supposed to trust him. She had been taught not to trust anyone, but the way he looked at her made her feel otherwise.

She took his hand and he helped her off the table.

“Let’s get out of here.”

anonymous asked:

Joshaya + “That’s it. I’m calling the police.”

“I’m so tired”, Josh mumbled while he crashed his head against his soft pillow. He had just worked a straight 48-hour shift at the station and he already could feel the exhaustion of his job rushing through his limbs as the numbness started to take over his body, leading him to a light sleepiness conscious.

He hadn’t noticed the hungry baby blue eyes staring at him on the other side of the bed.

It wasn’t until he felt a crushing weight in his back that his eyes opened. “I think there’s a hippopotamus sitting on me.”

Maya gasped as she punched his arm, clearly offended. The brown haired man turned his body to find his wife with a smirk on her face. He knew that look. He sighed.

“Please, Maya, not tonight, I just want to sleep for the rest of my life,” he closed his eyes, ignoring her body against his lap. At least trying to, but it was really hard since she kept rubbing herself on him like that. It wasn’t fair at all.

“Oh, come on, Josh! It’s my fertile period! We’ve been waiting for this for weeks!” her mouth turned into a pout and Josh had to remember the tiresome feeling consuming him to not lean on and grab her lips with his teeth.

“Nope, not gonna happen,” he rolled trying to shake Maya off him; however, her legs fasten around his waist. She wasn’t going to give up on this, not now.

“Are you serious denying me sex, Matthews?” Maya’s tone was sharp yet playful. He would come around… She just had to step up her game.

“Not at all, my love. I am just postponing for now.”

Josh opened a grin and closed his eyes again, letting his hands fall on the bed.

“That’s it. I’m calling the police,” she pulled apart just enough to reach for her phone on the bedside table.

“You’re gonna do what?” his eyes flew open just in time to see her pressing the call button.

The room soon was filled with his so known ringtone as his phone kept buzzing inside of his pocket. He laughed once he saw her name appearing on the screen.

“911. What’s your emergency?” he said on the other line, controlling the laughter crept in his throat. He couldn’t believe the blonde actually had called.

“I’d like to report a crime, officer,” Maya replied, dragging her free hand to his pants trouser and pushing aside his shirt, rubbing gently the uncovered area with her cold fingertips. He shivered under her and she let out a giggle.

“What kind of crime, ma’am?”

“A very serious one,” her voice was suddenly malicious as her fingers went all the way though his trouser to his neck. “You see… I am very very needy right now and my husband simply won’t give me what I want.”

Josh swallowed the lump in his mouth and could feel the dry taste in it. She moved around his lap and everything inside of him light up like a Christmas tree. He had to remain strong, though. He wasn’t gonna let her win this time, even if he really wanted to lose.

“Really? And what do you want?” he asked already knowing her answer.

“A baby,” they stared at each other for what seemed to be an eternity before Maya bit her lower lip and blinked. “And you.”

The call was over as soon as his lips went desperately to find hers, sucking them in with a hungriness he wasn’t supposed to have. Their tongs connected and her taste flooded his mouth as he sat down, arranging her body on him.

He pulled apart, grasping for air. “I hate when you do that.”

“You love it when I do that,” Maya’s face was just a few inches away from. He could feel her steady breath touching his skin and her hands got lost inside of his head curls. “So… What do you say?”

Josh kissed her gently, the biggest smile in his reddish lips. “Let’s make a baby.”

anonymous asked:

Please! Westallen, the twins, Joe and Henry having a water balloon fight.

Dawn threw the first balloon.

It arced into the sky and rained down on the top of her brother’s head, exploding into a mix of latex and water, soaking his hair and face. He shrieked, and she giggled, and their peace - hard won after the six hour car drive to the lake - was shattered. 

He spun around and she grabbed another balloon from the cooler, taking her aim. 

It hit.

Don charged toward her at full speed and she raced away, two balloons clutched in her hands. She turned in time to see him throw one, and she dodged out of the way and turned to throw another one at him. His balloon sailed past her, smashing against something… no, someone else.

“Grandpa!” Don called, his eyes wide. “I am so sorry we were just messing aroundandDawnstartedrunningand-”

“Hey, kid,” Henry said. “Don’t worry about it. It’s only a little wa-”

Another balloon exploded against Henry, and Dawn and Down froze completely. They didn’t throw that. There must have been a phantom. If their mom got mad, it was totally a phantom.

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

Prompt: Regina calls Roland her son by accident

Robin’s been gone for hours. Ten very long, very agonizing hours.

She can still hear Roland screaming for him, see him wrapping his arms around himself to protect his little body before she got to him and watched in horror as some demon hauled Robin away. Her magic had failed her; she’d been too stunned, too worried about Roland being right there to do anything, and now Belle’s telling her about banshees and soul sucking demons or sirens gone wrong. Souls of the damned, ancient beings from the Enchanted Forest and Camelot. But Regina knows, somehow, that it’s because of her. 

Every time she and Robin have been separated it’s because of her. Or rather, because of her sister, who loathes her. Which means technically, it’s because of Regina. Why shouldn’t this be, too? She knows what she has to do, and after speaking with Henry alone, hugging him tightly and kissing his forehead, she goes to Snow, David and Arthur.

“Regina, you can’t. We don’t know what we’re up against,” Snow begs, looking to her husband to back up her plea.

“Snow’s right. It could be anything; we need to wait until we know more.”

“We’ve waited long enough! Robin was taken early this morning. It’s dark now, and I’m not waiting until morning. You can come or  you can stay here and keep your noses stuck in books. I’m done waiting. And my son isn’t losing another parent.”

She means Roland even if she hadn’t meant to refer to him as such, and the pregnant pause that fills the space around them is tense before Regina adds:

Either of our sons.”

And then she’s gone, not waiting to see if she’s being followed.

The Sorcerer and the Stones

Last week while having an amazing time chatting/watching “Rent” with the Outlander Anonymous crowd this idea popped up. So ladies from 1/30 OA Rent watching party… this is dedicated to you all for helping me come up with the idea.

He knew, he always knew the moment one of them were born, when the spark of life and color filled their souls; his descendants. No matter what time he decided to live in he always knew when the universe expanded ever so slightly more to welcome the latest traveler. Some were filled with darkness, hate, greed, and envy, some were filled with light, hope, and selflessness, and others were filled with adventure, love, and wisdom—no matter what kind of personality formed he could always see and feel when their lives began, when they ended, and when they traveled.

Each of his offspring would go through the traveling process at least once in their lifetime. It would either lead to pain and suffering, life and love, or death. The moment the person was born a piece of his heart was pierced in a burst of recognition. Some created larger imprints than others, the ones that would become powerful or even had extra abilities. He could remember and recount each and every child when from the moment they were conceived to the moment they died.

Only on special days, and for special descendants did he make himself known; always disguising himself as a guardian, mentor, friend, or relative. They were the ones who would continue his work, forever travel, and find their true love in a time in whence they were not born. One such special exception sat behind him, stubbornly kicking at the seat of the automobile.

Raymond could not help but smile as he looked back at the unknowing face of the girl who will be the start of his greatest legend. She would be the catalyst that would bring about many prophecies and become a healer of legend herself. Her offspring will sire children of a new age, a new power. Two of his own descendants coming together whose blood will also be mixed with another deep magic will create the strongest travelers known, he even believed, more powerful than he was.

There were moments he wished he could speed up the timeline or hop to when the moment of change would take root, but he made a vow that he could not break. For now he would be who she needed him to be and he would wait.

The years passed in a blur and also all together too slowly for his patience. Day by day he educated his child in different arts and ways of living. Taught her the ways of the cultures from long ago, horseback riding, building and maintaining fires, how to find water, dig a latrine, and how to identify helpful and harmful plants. The child grew into a woman of grace and sophistication. She had caught the eye of a man Raymond knew to be a reincarnation of many previous men—only one that he knew to be a kind man—since she also seemed to reciprocate the desire he could only hope that this was also a kind iteration.

War, carnage and destruction were not new to Raymond, this time though he had something to lose. No matter what happened the timeline could not be disrupted and he could not lose the one thing that would bring peace, her. She was woven so integrally into the past and the future he could not let her die. The moment the war started it was clear she was going to do everything in her power to help. Raymond did what had to be done, feigning his own death he was able to protect her, be at the front lines with her and assure her safety.

Right before the war ended he made a visit to her husband and planted a seed into his mind. He knew the man had indeed been kind, yet a spiteful and deceitful man, but always kind in his own way; Raymond hoped that he would do the one thing he asked and take her to where she belongs, send her to Scotland.

The morning of Beltane came, he saw her from the other side of the stones. She was completely enthralled by the sight of the druids. Leaving a piece of himself by the stones he knew she would come back for it and then she would go home.

He was right of course, she came back for the flower. He heard the buzzing the moment she arrived and watched as her entire demeanor changed and she approached the stone.

As his girl touched the stones he could hear the sweet child he raised giggling and calling out to him…

“Uncle Lamb! Look at this one! What does it mean? Who would have used this?”

“Well my dear Claire, that is a sword and if you look here at the handle you can tell it’s Viking!”

Brown curls bounced as his own whiskey eyes looked up at him in fascination. “Viking? But I didn’t think they lived in Scotland!”

“Oh but they did my little flower, they settled here as great warriors and that tradition has been passed down throughout the ages. There are but a few Highlanders now and of old that cannot claim some viking heritage.”

“Uncle Lamb?”

“Yes, my little flower?”

“What is our heritage?”

“That my girl is rooted deep in France and beyond. Perhaps when you’re older I’ll take you to where we are from and show you some of the ways of the people there.”

“Oh! I would like that very much! Thank-you, Uncle Lamb, I love you…”

Her childish voice drifted off into the distant recesses of his mind and a new memory surfaced. One of his Claire pregnant and happy walking into a little shop in Paris.

“Mustard and thyme. In walnut oil, I think, but what did you use to make it nasty?” She observed. He couldn’t help smiling and thinking he taught her well.

“Ah, so your nose is not purely decorative, madonna! The black stuff is the rotted pulp of a gourd. As for the smell…well, that actually is blood.”

“Not from a crocodile,” my little flower stated rather than asked.

“Such cynicism in one so young! The ladies and gentlemen of the Court are fortunately more trusting in nature, not that trust is the emotion that springs immediately to mind when one thinks of an aristocrat. No, in fact it is pig’s blood, madonna. Pigs being so much more available than crocodiles.”

See my little flower, my promise was kept. I promised I’d take you to where we can trace some roots and show you the lives of how the people before lived. I’m sorry for the pain you’re about to go through my flower, but you will never regret the powers that brought you to your soul.