Living the fucking Fairytale
Commenting To 
cinderfuckinrella: (crying)
The dull ache in her lower back was unceasing in its torture now. No matter which way she sat, or leaned, or lay, or placed her hands on it; nothing relieved its constant attack on her. Vivian had never been so terrified in all her life, the baby was coming and there was nothing she could do to stop it. Alone now, since Frost'd had her moved from the shared cell, here in this concrete prison, her baby would be born. And after that...

She tried to focus on the now, to somehow get through this hell first. The periodic sharp invasions of contraction pain were the easiest times, oddly. Then she could focus on nothing but them, so entirely consuming in their cruelty, they gave little window of opportunity for darker thoughts and fears to break through the pain. Although they pressed at her temples, a slow thud of the threat of how this would end, making the pain unbearable. She was suffering this pain for a child she'd never have the chance to love. For a child who would never know love. A child that would be born into a life of... It didn't bear thinking about.

"Oh god, Wolfie. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. Please..." She cried desperately, willing him to somehow hear her and take her away.

As the pain started its gradual crescendo once more, she leaned against the cold grey stone, pressing her forehead to its cool surface in an attempt to take away the heat of panic. Her head hung low, staring at the floor beneath, hands clenched so tight that her nails drew blood from her palms as she rode the pain with a stiff jaw. She felt nothing, so intent in her will for this not to be happening now, even as a single drop of blood rolled down her wrist.

And then it happened. At first she thought she'd wet herself in fear, but the streams of warm fluid continued to trickle down her legs, soaking her underwear and pooling beneath on the cell floor. She thrust a hand down there urgently, as if by placing her hand over the source it would make it stop. But the liquid kept coming, unstoppable, dripping from between trembling fingers, splashing on the ground beneath in an unyielding pitter-patter of a doomed destiny.

"NO!" Vivian pleaded as she watched the pool beneath her spread.

"STOP! Not now, just wait. You can wait. Someone's coming for us, I know they will, just wait! Please!" Her voice was hysterical in its desperation, her own fingers clamping harder against herself to end this. Stall it. Anything.

Muse: Vivian Ward
Fandom: Pretty Woman
Word Count: 465

Notes: Continued as roleplay here at [ profile] tenebrae_nostro
Backdated event.
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