where are my lungs

Rule #1

I’m dming for a group of entirely new players who have never been in a game of DnD before except for one, who happened to be absent this time. The remaining three are a bard, a half-elf rogue, and a tiefling rogue. They were all sleeping in a tree and I told them at random to roll a d20 (it was a perception check). The tiefling got a nat 20, the half-elf a 12, and the bard a 2.

Me: Ok so [tiefling] wakes up to a strange sound. He is instantly alert and looks down through the darkness to see a strange figure in a cloak. Meanwhile, [half-elf] is slowly waking up but unaware of what’s going on, and [bard] is out cold.

Bard: Nice.

Tiefling: So can I tell what I’m looking at?

Me: You have Dark Vision, so yes. You can see that he seems to be a humanoid, in a cloak with the hood pulled up to hide his face, and in his hand is a staff.

Tiefling: I call down “Who are you?”

After having an unproductive chat with the stranger, who just warns them to stay away before fleeing deeper into the forest, the two rogues leave their bard asleep in the tree, where she finally rolls high enough to wake up.

Me: Alright, you two *checks their die* both are managing to follow fairly quietly. You make some noise, but he seems to dismiss it as forest sounds. Meanwhile, [bard] wakes up and-

Bard: Can I see them?

Me: No, they’re way too far into the trees to-

Bard: I start yelling at the top of my lungs “GUYS?! GUYS WHERE ARE YOU?”

Half-Elf: Can we hear her?

Me: Um… *rolls for the NPC’s perception and thinks about the distance* You know what, [bard], roll me a d20.

Bard: *gets a nat 20*

Me: *Laughing* Oh my gosh. Okay, so, yes, you can hear her loud and clea-

Bard: “GUYS?! WHERE DID YOU GO?! WHY DID YOU LEAVE ME?!?!”

Me: - and the guy you were following hears her two, realizes you left her and are following him, and he sprints into the forest.

Both Rogues: WE CHASE AFTER HIM! *Half-elf rolls a 12, the tiefling rolls a nat 1 and lands face first in a thorn bush*

They lost him after that, and made their way back to their screaming Bard.

Bard: “Hey guys. Where were you?”

Her innocent grin was priceless.

.

“Look at me. (Y/N), look at me right now!” Tate raised his voice. My vision is clouded by the build up of tears. I glance up at Tate. His eyes darker than the darkest of darks. He makes the gesture of placing his hand against my cheek but I flinch away in fear.

“Tate,” I hesitate on my words due to the amount of restraining from crying I’m containing. “I-”

“I love you too.” he says almost instantly.

“Yes, Tate, I love you but I have to go-”

“No, (Y/N), please. Don’t leave me. Please stay. Stay with me,” he begs. Once again making the gesture to caress my face, I give in and trust him. He brushes his lips against mine. “Tate, I don’t have a choice. I’m sorry, I have to go…” a tear slipped from my eye and dropped onto Tate’s shirt. He shook his head from side to side. He shoves his hand into the pocket of his jeans and pulls out a bottle of prescription drugs and a plastic bag of another substance of drugs. I narrow my eyebrows. He nervously pops the bottle open and spills the pills into his hand.

“We can be together forever. Just you and me. In this house forever. We can grow old together and be happy-”

“You want us to commit suicide?” Yes, the idea has come across my mind quite frequently and I’ve attempted it once before but I never actually wanted it to be intentional. I really do love Tate and I don’t want to leave him here. He is the darkest light in my darkness. As much as that doesn’t make sense, it’s true. I’m attracted to the darkness and that’s what he is. I’m scared of him. He scares me and I love him for it. He’s a psychopath and I’m crazy in love with him. I’m crazy for him as he is for me. “Yeah, you know what? Okay, I’ll do it.” I nodded my head and took the bag from his hands. His nervous smile turned into a smile that was unexpected for him. A real smile.

“I’ll run the bath…” I notified him and left the room. Stepping foot outside of my bedroom and bolted down the hall and down the stairs as fast as I could.

“MOM!” I’m panicking. “DAD! WHERE ARE YOU?!” I’m running and I’m panting. My lungs feel as if they’re shrivelling up as my breathing becomes hitched. I bust through the front door and struggle to open the gate that guides the house. I make a run for it down the street. “SOMEBODY HELP!” I run and I-

“(Y/N),” Tate sighs. I look around. I’m back in my room.

“What the hell?” I rush back downstairs and through the front door, leaving the house again.

“(Y/N)!” Tate says my name once more as I find myself back in the house.

“No, no, no!” I try to leave again. I come back. I leave again. I end up back at the house. “This can’t be happening, Tate, what the hell did you do?!” I’m out of breath from sobbing and attempting to run away. I need to leave. I try once more.

Making yet another exit from the house a pair of hands violently grasps my arm and strongly pins me to the wall. Before I got the chance to scream a hand is placed upon my mouth. I breathe heavily and scream as loud as I could even with my mouth closed shut. Scared to death, my chest raises up and down at a rapid speed as my heart thumbs loudly against it.

“Shh, shh,” I’m shaken and shoved up against the wall at an even stronger force. “(Y/N), it’s okay it’s just me.” Tate removed his hand from my mouth.

“DON’T FUCKING SCARE ME LIKE THAT!” I roughly pressed my hands against his chest and pushed him off of me. I leaned my back up on the all and slowly let myself fall to the floor. I begin to hyperventilate while crying hysterically. “Why do I keep running around like a crazy person? And why can’t I leave?” I look up at Tate who has a look on his face I’ve never seen before and that was sorrow. He’s never felt anything until I came along. I’ve made him feel something. Emotions. Emotions he’s never been able to express or feel before. Barely being able to see his eyes, blocked by his messy blonde locks, his build up with tears

“I’ve been trying to tell you but-”

“Tell me WHAT?!” I stand up defensively.

“Th-that-”

“What is it, Tate? Spit it out. Don’t bullshit me.” I push him again.

“Come.” Tate takes my hand and clenches it tight. He guides me down to the basement, through some doors, and down the halls. It’s dark and I’m exhausted. “Tate, where are you taking me?” I asked him, terrified. He stopped and pointed to a ditch that his flashlight shined on.

“Is that?… Is that me?!” I gasp and cover my mouth with my hand. I glanced down at my decomposing body, disgusted and in disbelief, I began to panic again. “No, no!” I cried. Tate made it his duty to comfort me. I pushed him away once again.

“What the hell happened, Tate? Did you drug me or something? I don’t remember dying!” I yell at him, consumed with rage.

“No, (Y/N) of course not! You attempted suicide and took too many pills. I tried to save you. I dragged you into the tub with me and made you puke some out but it was no use. It was too late.” Tears fell from Tate’s eyes. “I’m so sorry, (Y/N). I’m so sorry I couldn’t save you.”

“Why didn’t you tell me sooner? That I had died?”

“I don’t know… I thought it’d be better if we died together. So you wouldn’t feel alone.” Tate shrugged his shoulders and sniffled. We walked back upstairs in silence.

“So, looks like I’m not going anywhere…” I gave him a weak smile. “And I guess I’m stuck with you in this house forever.” The weak smile turned into a smirk. He chuckled and smirked back at me.

“Tate,” I said.

“Yes?”

“Thank you.”

“For what?” He says, obviously confused.

“Attempting to save my life.” I said making unbreakable eye contact with him. We stood there for a moment. “Because I know saving lives isn’t exactly what you do…”

“I tried. I really did. I care about your feelings more than I care about mi-”

“Don’t say that, Tate. My life wasn’t going to be worth living anyways. I had nothing going for me. All I had was-”

“You.” Tate and I said at the same time. I nodded and smiled as my cheeks flushed red.

Tate brushed my hair behind my ear and pressed his lips to mine. He kisses me ever so softly and passionately. Running my hands through his hair, I kiss him back. Tate’s hands ghost down my body and up my shirt. His hands against my skin caused chills down my spine.

“You’re the only light I’ve ever known.” Tate pulls away for a splint second to pierce those words into my skull with his lips and the black holes that are his eyes staring back at me. Without saying a word, my eyes said everything for him to comprehend. I loved him and he loved me. There was no escaping one another.

Tate playfully throws me onto my bed. He hovers over me and kisses me hard. I wrap my arms around his neck and pull him down. I tug on the collar of his shirt as I kiss him roughly.

“You make me a little less miserable.” He says with a smirk.

I. My mother doesn’t know that when I have nightmares they are of rotting corpses lying on the inside of my ribcage. She doesn’t know how much it hurts to crack myself open as though I am a rock who won’t let anyone shatter it. A rock too solid for mankind, too headstrong to exist.
When I had ripped myself apart before I thought maybe this is it, the moment where the jigsaw pieces fit together in my two fragile lungs.

II. Chiseled jaws stay silent when all they want is to be heard; a lifetime of molasses drips from the mouths of those who only want to be listened to yet nothing comes out except the slow excerpt of their lives. I am looking at myself in the mirror as I write this and I realize my jaw line only exists when I turn my head. This must mean I am outspoken.

III. When you ask me what body memories are I will say this: nothing is the same anymore. I’m faced with the possibility of my own limbs not working when I think too hard or too long. I will tell you that some days I see my future; a long generation of my own, clapping and dancing together as tough they are content. I will tell you that other days I feel Antarctica splitting apart in my bones and I can no longer feel the touch of another person without feeling the beat of his heart.

IV. My father tells me not to worry about myself yet he tells me it is a wicked world out there. How does he expect me to feel with my own hands the sweet sap of this small earth if he doesn’t let me free from this cast he molded with his mouth?

V. You never lose memories, they are distributed troughout the brain, stored in multiple cells and cages. One day I searched all day for the key to my memories. And that was the day I learned the rotting begins once you are born.

—  FIVE POEMS I NEVER FINISHED, Iris Blue
Green: A Draco Malfoy x Reader Imagine

Requested: yes

In this imagine, the reader is in a hedge maze of confusion. Childhoods are remembered, old friends make appearances, feelings surface, and things are changing at Hogwarts. As the Tri-Wizard tournament continues, the school and its visitors pause for the Yule Ball where green tendrils of jealousy seep from the walls and ice blue eyes.

Warnings: cursing, flashbacks

Y/N - your name
Y/N/N - your nickname
Y/C/N/N - your childhood nickname

~ - used to indicate the beginning/end of a flashback
~~~ - used to show passage of time

Word count: 2,419

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“There goes Malfoy again.” Harry’s head jerks towards the platinum-haired boy. I can’t help but look down and feel a little guilty. “What Y/N?”

“Oh it’s nothing.” When I glance up, Draco looks away, passing down the hallway with long strides. I don’t know how we managed to grow so distant when we were once so close. Our families were always together when we were younger, but after we were split during the Sorting first-year all communication ceased. Since, he has soured, treating everyone around him like dirt under his perfectly polished shoes.

“Don’t lie to me. What’s wrong?” Harry’s green eyes are full of concern.

“It just amazes me how much people can change.”

Keep reading

Moonlight Sonata

pairing: Thranduil x Reader

fandom: the hobbit

@nekodemon73 @kumpmk


The moon had risen high, a bright shining light in the dark of the night that led me through the forest.  

When I finally emerged from deep within I noticed one of the elves that were known to live here. He was leaning against a tree, his attention focused on something else. He would have heard me coming miles ago if he hadn’t been distracted.  

By nature, elves weren’t violent. They lived in piece, away from the rest of the world, unfazed by its troubles. You still had to be cautious around them. They did not like intruders in their domain and could be very cunning if it suited them.  

I slowly pull out my sword, not to use it but to be prepared. Moving forward as quietly as I can I stop when a twig cracks under my weight. A human like me wouldn’t have heard the sound this far away but the elf turns his head in my direction and raises a bow, directly aimed at my head. His brows furrow in confusion when he looks at me. Did he expect someone else?  

He moves over to my side so gracefully and quick that I am shocked when his hand tightens around my arm and he slams me against a tree painfully rough. For someone who looked so innocent and beautiful he had way too much strength.  

“What are you doing here, human?” He hisses at me, malice laced in his voice. It was obvious that he did not like my presence here.  

“I…I was passing by…just passing by.” His harsh words caught me off guard and all I can get out is a mix of stuttered words.  

“Be quiet.”  

“But you asked!”  

“Human! Shut your mouth this instant if you don’t want to die a painful death.”  

At first I thought he was threatening me but then I heard it. Drums banging in the dark of night. The sound of war and destruction coming closer. I had heard it before. Orcs where on their way. It was a dreadful noise, one I had hoped never to hear in my life time but here it was again.  

“What are they doing here?”  

“I was about to find out when you stumbled in here with the gracefulness only humans posses, like a drunk troll trying to catch it’s pray.”

 "Excuse me?!“ 

“No, you are not excused human.”  

I began to wonder if they truly lived out here in the woods on their own decision or if everyone else had just been fed up with them. This guy made me furious. How could one person be so breathtakingly annoying in such a short amount of time? He was rude, plain and simple rude.  

“My name’s Y/N.” I say stubbornly.

“I do not care for your name.”  

“Fine. What’s your name then? I could call you rude elf but I have a feeling you wouldn’t like that.”  

“Thranduil and now be…”  

There was a loud growl behind us and I saw myself face to face with one of the biggest orcs I had ever seen. The will to fight quickly left my body and was replaced by fear as my sword slipped from my grip and landed on the floor.  

“Move!” I finally stop staring at the thing and look over to Thranduil who is frantically pulling at my wrist in an attempt to get me to move. I didn’t even notice until now.  

My feet finally start to move and he pulls me away with him just as the orc’s sword hits the spot where I stood only seconds ago.  

We’re dashing through the woods and I have troubles to keep up. I can hardly make anything out. It’s dark and cold. I spot a bush or tree stump from time to time but that’s it. Everything looks the same, trees all around me. I hope he knows where we are going because I certainly don’t.

I’m completely out of breath when we finally stop. Looking around, I can make out the outlines of a small cave.  

“Do you…” Two deep breaths to calm my racing heart and pump some air into my lungs, “Do you know where we are?”  

“No.”  

“No? But you’re an elf, you know everything about your forest!”  

“We’re not in my realm anymore, human.”  

“Y/N.” I mumble, knowing full well he won’t use it anyway, “What should we do now?” I ask in a whiney tone, having lost all strength and determination on the way.  

“We stay until the sun rises, the orcs should be gone by then. Do us all a favour and don’t speak until then.”  

How is it possible that I find the most cranky elf in all of history on my first visit here and manage to get stuck with him for the night? Was my luck really as bad as everyone always told me?

Shape of You (12)

I hope this mends a few broken hearts. Enjoy =)

@arianacullen2008 @rayyvenous @noisyunknowninfluencer @imbrownthatswhy @courtcabeswater @always-love-your-self @nightlark-naitohibari @foreverlovingthenightskies @dragonbound135 @actualfeysandtrash @queen-sansa–stark @sheshibori @wingsofanillyrian @sherattledthestars @queenofshadows1 @rayonfrozenwings @stripesandpolkadot @allthestarswecansee @yourejustassaneasiam3 @haileanneposts @crazybookladythings @becca2810 @queenzofillea @automatictyrantcollector

(I hope I got everyone! It was a long list)

One Two Three Four Five Six Seven Eight Nine Ten Eleven


Chapter 12

It didn’t hurt as much at work, surrounded by books. Even though the day was dragging and I felt like time would never move forward. It still hurt, that crack in my heart had gotten bigger but it wasn’t throbbing when I could focus on something other than what had happened. When I could look at the books and pretend like my life wasn’t falling apart. It was slightly easier to breathe, but I knew when I went home the numbness would fade.

And the pain would return.

When I woke up Feyre was still there. She had crawled into bed with me and stayed, trying to help ease my pain. I wasn’t any nicer to her. I was worse and I knew it was wrong. Because she didn’t have to stay. She didn’t have to try and help me.

But she did. Because for some reason Feyre always cared more than us. She always tried harder. And that made this whole thing worse. It made my heart hurt worse. It made the break ache even more than before.

Because it reminded me of all those years ago when she used to hold my hand and we all slept in a bed together. When we were poor and cold and our father didn’t give a damn about us. It was Feyre who kept us warm, who kept the clothes on our backs. It was Feyre who sang Elain a lullaby so she could sleep.

And it was Feyre who was trying so hard to mend my broken heart. My broken world.

Today all I wanted to do was snap at her. I was done crying so now my grief had turned to anger. I was angry at the world and my little sister was in my path.

Feyre left when I went to get ready for work. She hugged me tightly and promised it would get better. I knew she wanted to tell me to talk to Cassian, but right now I couldn’t. She knew that too so she didn’t push that on me. She was just there for me. Promising to call me later to check up.

I was seven hours into my shift and the hollowness in my chest was still there.

Keep reading

REMEMBER| Part ONE

Kol x OC(Emma Salvatore)

A/N: Emma Salvatore was 16 when she died 1865. Now over 100 years later she woke up with no memories of her last living year and her boyfriend Kol Mikaelson but what happened in the past and what is going to happen now when she wakes up?

Part 2: HERE

631 Words

*******************************************************************************************

1864

When Stefan Salvatore entered a room, there wasn’t a single person who wasn’t staring at him. With a slight smile on his face he walked through the crowd of people in the ballroom and welcomed some of the guests. I always wondered how a man like him could be still single and how it could be possible that he was obviously ignoring all the adoring sights but no woman caught his attention for a long time and so he made his way through the room till he saw the only person who could make him smile a honest smile.

It was me.

“Emma,” he said pleased and kissed my forehead, “I’m so glad to see you. Who the hell are all this people?”

“I have no idea,” I laughed and took my brother’s hand in mine. Stefan and I always had a strong connection. He was my older brother, my hero and compared to Damon he really understood me. My oldest brother was overprotective it was cute and all but in his eyes I still was a little girl.

“Father just wanted to invite all people he know and there they are,” I sighed and was happy he lead me outside where the sun was going down and some fresh air filled my lungs again. I loved celebrations but sometimes I just felt so lost there.

“I hate it but I have some happy news for you, little one.”
“Now you have my attention. What is it?,” I asked excited and smelled the roses which grew everywhere in the garden.

“Damon just wrote me a letter and he said he’ll be back soon.”

“Oh really?,” I screamed happily. Since Damon was part of the military something was missing and exhilarated I hugged Stefan.

“I missed him, too. When he returns a celebration like this won’t be boring anymore,” he laughed when something strange happened. Suddenly it was like the earth was shaking, the sun was gone, the silent music was out and confused I looked around not knowing what was going on here when Stefan disappeared.

“Stefan?,” I shouted but no one answered and I felt how the temperature was falling, that’s why I hugged myself and started to shiver. Something was wrong. I had no idea what it was but I just was scared, so I closed my eyes, hoping it was just a bad dream, when I felt something hard against my back. Wood. Slowly I opened my eyes, just to see nothing anymore. Everything was black and when I stretched my arms, there was wood again.I was jailed in a wooden box… more like a casket.

*************************************************************************************

Kol

Present Age

Being daggered wasn’t like sleeping or being dead. It was more like you was awake but couldn’t do a damn thing, beside laying there and listening to what ever was going on. So when this bloody thing was gone after over 100 years I opened my eyes pleased and at the same time not very amused.

“Happy being part of the living again?” I stretched my arms and looked to my sister, who threw a blood bag to me.

“How could I be happy? It was your fault I had to lay here for over all those years.”
“Sorry but we have bigger Problems now, so I don’t wanna hear any moaning about how much you are missing HER!”

“Sensitive like always, sister,” I laughed cold and felt the pain again l didn’t have to feel over all those years jailed in this casket with a dagger in my heart. I felt the huge lost again. The love of my life was dead and it was my fault. So how could I ever be happy again?

******************************************************************************************

I hope you guys like it. I know my english is bad sorry but if you want more of the story just tell me. The original story is German and you can find it on Wattpad.

Gif is not mine

heavy belongs to
the hearts
that feel
too fucking much
telling the voices
in your head
to shut the fuck up
if only for a night
it didn’t work yesterday,
what makes you think
it’ll work tonight?
things that i write
about you are never
happy and i hate
that about you.
light is the love
that we all experience
when we’re 17 and
open to vulnerability–
just kiss me until
i forget that
love hurts.
fuck my feelings up
and let’s call it romance,
fuck my mind up
and let’s call it poetry–
death slides love letters
under my pillow–
“i’ll see you soon”
always sealed with a kiss,
always sealed with a kiss.
winter is coming,
and i know nothing.
summer is here,
burning with my cigarettes–
does the smoker smoke
or do the cigarettes do
the lighting–
you can match my lungs
with your knuckles.
find me where i’m most lonely
and ask if i keep my best poems
there– if you stare into
my eyes long enough,
you’ll see that i still love you.
and that’s just something heavy,
sleep is needed, but
my empty is needy.
my heart doesn’t bleed anymore,
but who said it can’t be sore?
The Camping Trip

Jughead x Reader

Request: Hey! Could you do one in which reader has a nightmare and Jughead comforts the reader?

Warnings: Choking, Stabbing

Word Count: 1,634

A/N: Sorry this is a bit short! (For me, at least)

Masterlist


A flash of silver, a floor stained red.

Sirens, policemen, a trial.

The ruling: self defence.

Jason’s Killer: dead.

Because of me.

The summer after Sophomore year, a few months after the trial ended and things are just starting to go back to normal, or at least the way they were before Jason Blossom was killed.

I don’t know how, but somehow I ended up being the one who figured out who killed him before anyone else did. They ended up cornering me in my house, breaking in and threatening me if I told anyone. I tried to reach for the phone, but they lunged. I grabbed a kitchen knife and swung, and I’m not sure what I hit, but it stuck.

I’ve been to counseling and I’ve had many talks with my mom about it, but it still haunts me to this day.

The person who has been there for me the most is my boyfriend of a year, Jughead, who I can tell feels guilty for what happened. He blames himself because if he hadn’t caught me up in trying to figure it out I wouldn’t have even been in danger. It’s not his fault though, I basically volunteered to join the team to search for the killer. IIt was a way to spend more time with him, since he seemed so wrapped up in all of it.

He works on finishing his novel about all of the events now, and so while he’s still been there he’s also been distant at the same time, and basically the only time spent with him seems like an interview. I know he doesn’t mean it like that, but it would be nice to hang out without a laptop and a list of questions.

About a month into summer Archie suggests that we all go on a camping trip to down south, just to get away from things for a while. Betty and Veronica say yes immediately, even offering to share a tent. I wouldn’t be surprised if they also wanted to share an air mattress. They think we’re all so oblivious to what’s been happening between them, but me and Jughead guessed it from the minute that Veronica showed up in town.

Kevin agrees, as we invited him because we didn’t want to exclude people. He hangs out with us more regularly now, so it just wouldn’t feel right if he wasn’t there.

I convince Jughead over the course of few days, saying that a change of scenery may help with his writer’s block he’s recently been struck with. I tell him that it will be good for all of us to get away for a while, get away from the words on his laptop. He reluctantly agrees.

We book a campsite, plan it all out, and even buy all of the supplies for the ‘best camping trip ever’, as Ronnie calls it. Before I know it, we’re piled in a car, driving the two hours south to the camp ground.

The drive down is a bit noisy and even verges on the side of chaotic, with everyone speaking to each other simultaneously.

I try to block out all of the noise, as there’s already enough of that in my head, and I focus on how Jughead is sitting there with a hand on my thigh the whole drive down. I can tell he feels out of place without his laptop.

We arrive just before sunset, and Archie seems to have all three tents set up in no time. It’s Ronnie and Betty in one tent, of course, Jughead and I in another, and Archie is with Kevin.

He then works on setting up a fire in the middle of all our tents, providing warmth and light, and we watch as day turns to night and all the stars appear in the sky through the treetops.

Jughead and I sit close together, his arm around me as I lean into him. Betty and Ronnie sit close enough together that their knees are touching, Kevin is roasting a marshmallow, and Archie is obliviously playing his guitar and providing mood music.

After about an hour, Kevin turns into the night, ready for a full day of hiking and being with friends tomorrow. Not soon after, Ronnie and Betty go inside their tent, and then followed by Archie, leaving Jughead and I to watch the burning embers. I rest my head on his shoulder, closing my eyes and focusing on his breathing.

No words are spoken as my eyes close and my heart beat slows, falling asleep.

My world tumbles into darkness as I feel the wind knocked out of me. My eyes open and I’m back in my house, my throat closing around me. My back is pushed against the wall and I claw at the hand that’s there, kicking into the air to try and knock whatever is holding me off. A face appears in front of mine and my heart drops. Jason’s killer.

“You thought you got rid of me?” they ask in the dream, and evil looking smile coming over their face, their eyes flickering with the threat of death.

“Please.” I choke out, still trying to grasp and claw at their arms.

“I’ll be back for you.” they say, before releasing me.

I fall to the ground, my breathing heavy as I try to bring oxygen back into my lungs. I scramble across the floor to where I know the knifes are on the counter. I stand up and reach for them, only to find them disappear as I’m about to touch them.

An evil laugh comes from behind me as I spin around. Before I have time to react they stab me with the knife right in my stomach, right where I stabbed them.

I jolt up, soaked in sweat. I look around and try to focus on my surroundings. I feel an air mattress beneath me and realize that Jughead must have taken me into the tent after I had fallen asleep.

I try to steady my breathing, but it just becomes heavier and heavier. Tears begin to form in my eyes, and I wipe them away quickly. Soon the walls of the tent seem to close together, so I rip the zipper down and step outside to get some fresh air.

The fire has completely died down, and I wrap my arms around myself to help with the shivering, mostly likely brought on my sobs rather than the cold.

I keep telling myself to take deep breaths, but every time I do I’m taken back to the feeling of my throat closing, their hands pushing me further and further into the wall. I crouch to my knees, my sobs quieting while my breathing remains heavy.

Soon, I hear a rustle behind me and stand up, spinning quickly to see what’s there.

“(Y/N)? What are you doing up?” Jughead asks, rubbing his eyes as he steps out of our tent.

“Oh, u-uhm.” I stammer, not really sure what to respond with. I don’t think he knows about how bad my nightmares are, and I certainly don’t want him to see me in the middle of dealing with him.

“Are you okay?” He asks, clearly noticing how distressed I am. I know I can’t hide it from him for long, he knows me too well. He takes a step towards me to try and see me in a better light.

“Yeah.” I say, nodding my head, but when I see that he’s not going anywhere I begin to shake it the other way, “No.” I admit.

“Babe, what’s wrong?” He asks, finally reaching me. He gently puts an arm on my shoulder, careful not to make me too uncomfortable. At this point, though, I need him. As soon as he makes contact I pull him into a hug, holding him tightly.

“I, uh, I had a nightmare again, about- about that night.” I say into the crook of his neck, almost a whisper, my voice still trying to calm from the sobs.

“Why didn’t you tell me this was happening?” he asks, his voice quiet and soothing, a characteristic I didn’t know he had. I take comfort in it, though, breathing in everything that he is. There’s a silence before my answer. I don’t want it to come out wrong.

“All you ever want to talk about are the questions for your novel and I- I didn’t think it was important.” I admit.

“Don’t you ever think that you’re not important to me. You always come first to me, no matter what.” his voice turns stern, solid like a rock, and I believe him. His tone and his stance. He really means what he’s saying.

“They were so strong, I couldn’t breath. I was so scared.” I admit even further, not able to stop now that I’ve started.

“If they were strong, then you’re even stronger. And if anyone ever tries to lay a hand on you, I won’t let them. I won’t let anyone harm you. Ever again.” he reassures, his hand rubbing up and down my back while the other holds my head.

I break away and look at him, staring into his eyes in the dark of the night. The moon is reflected in his irises, and he’s beautiful. “I love you, Jughead.” I say, a hand going to cup his cheek. He brings me in for a kiss, a gentle one at first, right on my lips. He breaks away only for a moment, keeping our foreheads together.

“I love you too, more than anything in this world.” he whispers.

A flash of white, lips stained red.

Crickets, the night sky, a boy and a girl.

Result: Magic.

The Camping Trip: A success.

Because of him.


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I’m ready for him to come out, I’ve felt like this for weeks now, Harry too, I can tell by the way I catch him looking at me sometimes, like he’s willing the baby to come sooner so I can have my body back. It’s been months since Harry and I decided to stop having sex and such not wanting to risk anything, the ever growing baby making me too scared to try anything, although Harry was convinced I would be fine.

***

It’s a Tuesday evening, a week later when he does, I was at home, painting when it happened, ruining my current project. Nancy was at the house with me, per Harry’s request, not wanting me to be alone at any point as due date neared. Although the doctor said it was probably still going to be at least another week.

It was honestly a blur up to the first contraction, that part I remember clearly, I had just started to color the sky went I felt the first. I had had contractions before, plenty of false ones to know this one was real, the pain was dull ending with a sharp pinch unlike the fake ones, “Nancy” I gasped accidentally swiping the brush across the canvas, leaving a pale pink stripe in its wake.

She was in the room within seconds still holding the half full cup of water she had been filling in the kitchen, “What’s wrong are you okay?” she rushed over at my pained expression,

I took a deep breath recovering, “It’s… s’time”

She jumped, “Yes!, Yes” I gripped her wrist as I felt a swift kick poke at my side, the baby growing more and more restless, my elbow knocking over the water it smeared the painting further although neither of us noticed as I gasped out again,

“Nancy, now!”

“Oh, fuck, let’s go” she helped me stand, grabbing the flats I kept by the door and lead me to her car,  the drive was fast, not fast enough as I suffered two more contractions each getting a bit worse as we neared the big white building.

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