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danielsdecanter · 2 years

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beautifully unconventional - part one

pairing: daniel ricciardo x f!singer reader

warnings: swearing, alcohol mention (it’ll get spicier i promise)

word count: 1.9k

summary: daniel ricciardo is famously a music fan. you’re the lead singer of one of his favourite bands. match made in heaven - right?

author’s note: after sitting on my hands for literal months i’m biting the bullet and posting the first chapter of beautifully unconventional!! i’ve got most of the fic planned out but only this chapter written so far and i’m very aware it’s kinda just laying the groundwork - at the moment i’ve got nine chapters more or less scoped (subject to change!) huge thank you to @kingeomer for taking a read over this for me before posting - it’s the first thing i’ve written in a good while so while i’d like you all to be nice, constructive criticism is also welcome!

you were tired - some may define it as knackered. sat in the dressing room at terminal 5 in the city that never sleeps, you stared at your reflection in the mirror, adorned in typical fashion by a ring of lightbulbs. you wondered if there was a concealer on this earth that was strong enough to cover the bags under your eyes - in the last couple of weeks alone you’d been flying from coast to coast, north and south, to play shows in your band’s second US tour. it wasn’t that you weren’t enjoying yourself - you’d just forgotten how intense international touring could be over the last couple of years, when it was nigh on impossible to do so.

with your head in your hands, you close your eyes for just a few moments - a quick snooze wouldn’t hurt would it? for a few fleeting seconds, the world was quiet and your eyes were heavy, sleep just in reach. that was before there was a knock at your door. groaning quietly to yourself, you open your eyes, giving yourself a look in the mirror before calling back to the mystery visitor with a curt, “yeah?”

grumpiness wasn’t usually your nature, but it was typical sod’s law that the one moment you chose to rest is the one that got interrupted.

“sound check begins in 15 minutes, okay?”

ah, so it was a runner from the venue. and of course you had to soundcheck - new york was one of the biggest shows of your tour, there could be no excuses for not being perfectly prepared. aside from los angeles and sometimes atlanta, it was also one of the nights where there was most likely to be a famous face or two in the crowd.

“yeah cool, i’ll be ready”

scraping your hair back into a messy bun, you grab your makeup bag and set about salvaging a face that said you were at least somewhat awake.

- - -

the soundcheck went as well as could be expected - your band were in good form, and the venue’s acoustics seemed to give an extra edge to your sound that you’d not experienced until now on this leg of the tour, which made you even more excited to get out in front of the crowd.

having finished your vocal warm ups, you were sat at the side of the stage watching your support act absolutely kill it, a proud smile on your face that wouldn’t look out of place on a big sister or parent. your gaze dropped to look at the crowd - they were just about visible from your position and if they looked hard enough, they’d probably catch a glimpse of you too, between the strobe lights and dry ice. as your eyes flicked between the various faces in the crowd, one in particular caught your eye. he looked familiar, but you couldn’t quite place why. a mess of curls draped over his forehead and the way he was practically beaming as he bounced rhythmically to the music made you grin fondly, almost as if he was an old friend.

you didn’t know how long you’d been watching him when his eyes snapped up to meet yours.

his smile didn’t falter, and neither did yours, although if he were any closer he may have noticed the way your heart was now pounding in your chest - what the fuck?

wanting to preserve your cool, aloof exterior, you simply quirked your eyebrows at him and gave a small friendly nod of acknowledgement, before turning your attention back to the stage, realising quickly that they were on their final number.

game time.

slipping off your stool you headed back to your dressing room to make your final preparations. an extra coat of mascara and lip gloss, a throat lozenge and a quick text to your mum was your pre-show ritual, no matter where you were in the world. letting your hair down from the bun you’d fashioned earlier that evening, you give it a quick shake for volume before heading back to the green room where the rest of your bandmates were. some nights you could tell before you even got on stage that you were going to smash it - and this was one of those nights.

- - -

god - you’d not had a show that fucking good in so long. the kind of show that left you sat back in your dressing room for the n-th time that night, trying to stop yourself giggling as your hands shook with pure adrenaline. this was half of what made touring so exhausting - the post show high was almost always followed by a crushing low of exhaustion as the rush faded away, only to be repeated again and again, week after week. you could see your band felt it too, as you all sat taking in the sensation while slowly sipping on a pack of beers that was always included in your rider for a post-gig wind down.

you were all so familiar with each other that you often didn’t feel the need to speak for the first hour or so after your encore, instead all winding down in your own heads before either heading out to a local bar or back to your tour bus for a proper debrief. the communal solitude of that first hour was rarely interrupted - just how you liked it. you could feel the tiredness already beginning to creep back in as you curled up on the battered old couch, while trying not to think about what other antics could have possibly taken place on it over the years.

then, for the second time that night, there came a knock at the door. you gave the guys in your band a look that said ‘let’s just ignore it’ before closing your eyes, as if it’d make them go away. but the knock came again - and again, and you knew you couldn’t hold off on answering any longer.

“what?” you call out, trying and probably failing to mask your annoyance at your post-show ritual being so loudly interrupted.

“you’ve got a visitor guys, can they come in?”

your eyebrows furrowed in confusion, glancing at your band who all looked equally as bemused. none of you had invited any guests tonight, and as far as you knew, your label hadn’t either. rolling your eyes with a shrug, you decided against your better judgement to actually get up and open the door.

“hi” the nervous looking runner spoke. you instantly felt guilty for being arsey so flashed them a kind smile, before clocking who was stood behind their shoulder.

“daniel wanted to come and see you guys, hope that’s okay?”

daniel. the face, and now the name, was definitely familiar as you started racking your brain for why you recognised him.

against your better judgement you give him another smile before nodding.

“yeah sure come in, we were just uh - sitting” you say, realising how awkward that sounded. he laughs. he doesn’t care.

extending your hand to introduce yourself properly, he takes it with a firm shake, before circling round to each of your bandmates to do the same - however it’s you he turns his attention back to before any of the others even have the chance to capture it.

“gotta say, i’m a big fan of you and your band, i listen to your music all the time when i’m driving at home, sometimes i wish i could listen while i race” he laughs as he speaks, his whole face alive with excitement.

race. it’s then it dawns on you who he is. you’d seen him on a talk show when you’d been in the states the other year, and you’re certain you’d seen his face on netflix one evening when you’d been flicking through, desperate for something new to watch.

“god yes, racing..” you say, face flushing slightly embarrassment as you realise you’d said that out loud. “i knew i recognised your face, i just couldn’t place it! oh - and they’re not my band - we’re a band” you clarified, a big believer in not wanting the rest of your bandmates to live in the shadows - you wrote your songs together, just because you sang them didn’t make them any less important.

“got it - big fan of the band” he corrects himself with a cheeky grin that you can’t help but grin back at yourself.

“we were all just decompressing - do you want to come and grab a seat? help yourself to a beer if you want. if you’re allowed that is. do you drink between races?”

mentally you were slapping yourself across the face with a dishcloth.

shut the fuck up, you’re rambling like a teenager.

he doesn’t mind though - if anything, he thinks it’s sweet.

“one won’t hurt, sure.”

dropping back onto the godforsaken couch, he joins you, your knees knocking together as you sit down. neither of you make any effort to avoid the contact though as you shift so the contact’s maintained as you relax again.

“so” your eyes light up mischievously. “you going to tell me your five favourite songs so i can test that you’re a true fan, or what?”

he takes your challenge, of course he does as he lists off three of your best known singles before surprising you with some niche album tracks, which has you hook, line and sinker. the conversation feels effortless, bouncing off one another as one can of brewdog turns into two, into three, the relaxed buzz it gives you both only helping things move along.

it’s only when you hear the bang of the door as it closes that you are brought back into the here and now, noticing that your bandmates have all disappeared. a glance at your phone confirms what you’d already suspected.

“fucking hell, it’s fucking 3am…” you grimace, already knowing how tired you’re going to be in the morning - well, later at this rate.

“jeez…” he whistles in surprise. “have we really been here that long?”

“must have been…” you laugh softly. “clearly the others got bored”

a glance at each other is all you need to erupt into a fit of laughter, born out of tiredness and tipsiness. without really thinking, you drop your head onto his shoulder with a loud sigh.

“i should go before i fall asleep on you and we get found by the cleaners in approximately two hours time…” you make no effort to move.

“that’d be a story to tell the grandkids…” he murmurs softly, also clearly being thwarted by the sleepiness that is now dawning on the both of you.

with another groan however, you reluctantly force yourself up, rubbing your eyes as you do, not caring if it smudges last night’s make up.

“it’s been really nice hanging out with you…” your voice is gentle, your cool girl exterior dropped. “if you um, want to ever hang out again - here…” you grab a sharpie from the dressing table and take his arm. “...is my number” you mumble as you scrawl, trying your best to make the numbers as clear as possible. “and i’m sure you’re technologically competent enough to find my instagram” a cheeky grin this time, which he matches almost instantly.

“i’m sure i can figure it out, sweetheart”.

you definitely blush this time.

“cool. well uh - i’ll see you when i see you?” you say, the situation feeling ever so slightly awkward for the first time that evening.

“you will” he replies, getting up himself and dipping slightly to drop a soft peck to your cheek, before he leaves you standing there, fingertips placed to your face where his lips just were.

shit.

- - -

danielricciardo no race sunday = perfect gig time. congrats to THE band on an amazing show ;)

danielricciardo started following you

- - - -

read part two here

#f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #daniel ricciardo #daniel ricciardo fanfic #daniel ricciardo fanfiction #daniel ricciardo imagine #daniel ricciardo x reader #f1 x you

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fandomrewrites · 3 years

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Season 3a; Episode 11: Alpha Pact

Hello all! After this one there is only one more chapter of season 3a! If you guys are liking the story and want to be added to the taglist let me know! As always constructive criticism is welcomed. And please make sure to answer my pinned post if you like the 100!

Season 3a; Episode 11: Alpha Pact

Pairings: Scott McCall x Twin Sister, Lydia Martin x Best Friend

Warnings: panic attack, swearing

Word Count: 4,112

Season 3a masterlist

Hearing someone running down the stairs, I turned to see Stiles. "Where's Scott? Where's my mom?"

Stiles sighs, "Jennifer took your mom. And Scott..." He trails off.

"Stiles, what happened?"

"He went with Deucalion." My mouth falls open in shock, unsure of how to process this new information. Rather than thinking about it right now I decided to turn back around to try and get Derek to wake up.

After a few more agonizingly long minutes Derek slowly blinks his eyes open. Spotting me and Stiles above him, he pushes himself into a sitting position and asks, "Where is she?"

"Jennifer? Gone." Stiles answers.

"With my mom." I quietly add, still trying to process the fact that my only two family members are with psychopaths.

"She took her?" Derek questions.

Stiles nods, "Yeah. And if that wasn't enough of a kick to the balls, Scott also left with Deucalion. So get up. The police are coming and we need to get you the hell out of here."

Stiles and I both help Derek off of the elevator floor, "What about Cora?" The Alpha asks, concerned for his sister.

"She made it out with Peter and Isaac." I answer as we make our way to the exit.

"You should go with him, (Y/N/N)." Stiles speaks up.

I quickly shake my head, "No, I'm staying with you." Stiles sighs but nods.

Before Derek gets the chance to leave, I pull him into a quick hug. "Be careful. And please keep us updated."

Derek awkwardly pats my back, "Uh, yeah. You too."

Stiles raises his eyebrow in question once Derek is gone, "What? I'm his favorite. I can get away with doing things like that." I shrug in response.

Stiles shakes his head, though a small smile forms on his lips. "Let's go wait for the cops." He says, leading me over to the waiting room chairs.

*_*_*_*_*_*

Stiles and I sat side-by-side holding tightly to each other's hand. We needed some sort of comfort since both of our parents were taken by Jennifer and Scott decided to be friendly with the demon wolf.

We looked up at the sound of the hospital doors opening. My mouth fell open as I saw an FBI agent making his way towards us, "Do you think he saw me? Can I make a run for it?" I quietly ask Stiles.

"I'm pretty sure he saw you." He gave my hand a squeeze. "I'll be right here for you the whole time."

Once the Agent approaches I quickly look down at mine and Stiles entwined hands, refusing to make eye contact. I start focusing on my breathing, counting inside my head but also focusing on the words exchanged between the two guys near me.

"A Stilinski at the center of all this mess. What a shocker." My jaw clenches at his words and I can feel Stiles becoming more annoyed by the second. "Though I do wish you weren't here, (Y/N)."

Neither Stiles nor I answer. "Do you think you can give me some answers without the usual level of sarcasm?"

"If you can ask them without the usual level of stupid." Stiles replies, glaring at the man.

I start to play with Stiles fingers as I hear the Agent speak once more, "Where's your dad and why has nobody been able to contact him?"

"I don't know. Haven't seen him in hours." Stiles answers.

"Is he drinking again?"

"What do you mean again? He never had to stop." Stiles spits out.

"That was you." I mumbled under my breath, but both men heard me.

The agent sighs but chooses to ignore my words, "But he did have to slow down. Is he drinking like he used to?"

"How about next time I see him I give him a field sobriety test? We'll do the alphabet starting with F and ending with U." Stiles angrily says, making me smile lightly.

"How about you just tell me what the hell happened here?" The agent asks, trying a different approach.

"We don't know. We were stuck in the elevator the whole time." Stiles answers, sticking to the lie we came up with earlier.

"You're not the one who put the name on the doors, are you?"

For the first time in the conversation I look up, exchanging a look with Stiles. "What name?" We ask together.

"Argent. Do you know who that is?" Stiles and I both nod in response, not feeling the need to answer considering the agent probably already knows who they are too.

"Well you can leave Stiles, I would like to talk with my daughter."

"I stopped being your daughter the day you left me and Scott. If Stiles is leaving I am too. And you can't make me stay." I glare at the man. I look back to Stiles and tug on his hand, "Come on."

*_*_*_*_*_*

Stiles and I quickly make our way to the Argent's to let them know that their name was left on the elevator doors at the hospital. "The word is Guardian, Allison. More than anyone, you know that's a role I haven't exactly lived up to lately." Mr. Argent says to his daughter.

We move down the hall, walking into Mr. Argent's office. "But she took Mrs. McCall and Stiles' father. That's not a coincidence." Allison argues.

"I'd also consider the fact someone put your name in large block letters on the elevator doors. That kind of felt like a pretty big warning to me." Stiles adds.

"I think it might have been Morrell. I think she knows a lot more than she lets on. She might even be trying to help us."

"Well she needs to get on that a lot faster since the lunar eclipse is less than two freaking nights away."

Stiles fell into a chair as I chewed on my bottom lip. "Stiles, don't give up hope." Mr. Argent says, looking at the teenager.

"They could already be dead."

"I don't think so. There's something about Jennifer's tactics. It's like she's still positioning. Still moving pieces into place."

"And you're one of them." Allison says.

"Okay." Mr. Argent sighs, "Then let's not wait around to see her next move."

He lays out a map then continues speaking, "Everything she's done has been on a Telluric Current. So Melissa and the Sheriff have to be somewhere on one of the Currents, right?"

"That would make sense." I answer. Though Mr. Argent is looking at Stiles.

"Stiles, if we're going to find them, we need your help."

"You seriously want to go after her? Have you even seen what she's been able to do? She tossed Scott across the room like it was nothing." I place a comforting hand on Stiles shoulder as he speaks, understanding his concern and frustration.

"What if she just takes you like the others? I mean, no offense, but what's the difference between you and them?" Stiles continues.

"I'm carrying a .45." Mr. Argent places the gun on top of the map. "Maybe she can heal from a shot to the leg and a few slashes to the face. But, personally, I'd like to see how she holds up with half her skull blown off. We've got one priority right now. Find your mom," He says looking at me.

He then turns to Stiles, "And your dad. We've got a map and every clue we need to figure this out. The only thing we don't have is time. Which is why I need all three of you."

"We can do this. We have to." I say, giving Stiles’ shoulder a squeeze.

Stiles nods in response, "Where do we start?" We all gather around the map as Mr. Argent pulls out a black light.

"The place where the sacrifices have been committed have usually been different from where the bodies have been found. I think the placement has to do with the strength of the Current. So there's the School, the Animal Clinic, the Bank."

"What about the motel?" Stiles asks.

"I don't think she'd take them that far."

"This still looks like too much ground to cover. We could spend weeks looking at all the possibilities." Allison says.

"She must have some sort of pattern that she follows." I add in.

"She wouldn't use the same place twice, would she?" Stiles questions.

"Only if she didn't succeed the first time." Mr. Argent says. He moves his finger to point at the bank.

"Scott's boss?" Allison asks her father.

"Deaton. It was her only failure. That could mean something."

"So we should go check it out, right?"

"Definitely."

"But that's just one place so far. We need more help." Stiles says.

"What about Lydia?"

"Lydia? What can she do?" Mr. Argent asks.

"She's found a few of the bodies without meaning to. It has to be related to the supernatural but we're not sure what she is yet." I answer. I then turn to look at Allison, "We can try to see if she knows anything but she still doesn't know how to control it. And if they are still alive she may not even be able to help."

Allison and her father nod. They then turn to start collecting weapons so that they can go to the bank and try to find my mom and the Sheriff. Stiles and I look on in awe as we see the two Argent's pull out weapon after weapon. "I thought you guys were retired?" Stiles asks.

"Retired, yes." Mr. Argent says, "Defenseless, no. Now make sure your phone's on. If you hear from Scott, let us know immediately."

"I'm thinking that's going to be kind of unlikely." At Stiles' words, he, Allison and I share a look.

"The three of you, try to remember he's just doing what he thinks is right. I've seen that seventeen year old boy come through more often than most men I've known. Don't give up yet."

"I'll never give up on my brother." I say, a look of determination on my face. Stiles gives a nod as we turn our attention to Allison.

She isn't paying attention to us but rather looking towards the door. We follow her gaze to see Isaac, "How did you get in here?" Mr. Argent asks.

"Through her window." Isaac replies, glancing at Allison. "Sorry. I just. I want to help. I can't shoot a gun or use a crossbow. But I'm starting to get pretty good with these." He opens his hand to reveal his claws.

"We'll take it." Mr. Argent says.

*_*_*_*_*_*

Stiles and I are now sitting in Lydia's room, telling her about what occured at the hospital. "I don't believe it. Scott can't really be with them. He can't be." She says, shaking her head.

"You didn't see the look on his face. It was the same one I saw on my mother when the doctors told her there was nothing they could do. It was just total hopelessness." Stiles replies.

"I still think he'll come through. It's Scott we're talking about. He'll never do anything to harm someone." I say.

"What do I do?" Lydia asks, "I mean I get that I'm like some kind of human Geiger counter for death. But I don't know how to turn it on and off yet. All I know is she tried to kill me because of..." She trails off.

"Because of what? Lydia?" I ask, lightly grabbing my best friend's hand.

"She called me a Banshee. (Y/N/N), you were on the right track. I'm a Banshee. She was surprised by it. What if that's not why she tried to kill me?"

"Then why did she?" Stiles questions.

"That's what we need to find out."

*_*_*_*_*_*

Stiles, Lydia, and I walk through the school hallways. Lydia keeps glancing at her phone, "Aiden's not texting me back."

The sound of my phone beeping stops her from saying anything else, "What? Oh God, what is it now?" She asks me as I look at the text.

"It's Isaac. Jennifer took Allison's father. That means she has all three of them now." I reply. I stare down at my phone and quickly reply only to shove it in my pocket a second later.

Lydia's voice breaks me out of my thoughts, "Stiles? Are you okay?"

I quickly turn to face him, seeing that his breathing is becoming irregular. "No." He mutters out.

"What is it? What's wrong?"

"He's having a panic attack." I answer, already knowing the symptoms.

I gently take him by his arm as I bring him into the locker room. "Just think about something else. Anything else." Lydia says as she follows us into the room.

"Like?" Stiles asks.

I lower him to a sitting position as Lydia continues, "Happy things. Good things. Friends, family- I mean- not family."

"I love you Lyds, but please shut the fuck up." I say as gently as possible.

"I can't- I can't." Stiles says, breath becoming more rapid. His hands are placed firmly on his knees. Without much thought I gently grab his face, forcing him to look at me.

"Stiles. Look at me. Focus on my voice. Match my breathing." He gasps for breath, still not being able to stop the panic attack. Finally, I close the distance between our faces and kiss him.

After a brief moment, he gently begins to kiss back. Our lips slowly part, Stiles' body relaxes as he opens his eyes to look at me. "How did you do that?" He quietly asks.

"Holding your breath helps you regain control of your breathing. When I kissed you, you held your breath."

"I did?"

"You did."

"How did you know that holding your breath helps?"

"I started having panic attacks after my dad left. Plus I used the same trick on Isaac not too long ago." I shrug.

"Thanks, that was really smart."

"It was nothing." I shrug once more.

Lydia speaks up, "Well if I was really smart I'd tell you to sign up for a few sessions with the Guidance Counselor. Both of you."

"Morrell." Stiles says.

"She knows more than you'd expect."

I scoff, "Yeah, you can say that again." Stiles and I share a knowing look. I help him stand back up so that we can go talk with Morrell.

*_*_*_*_*_*

Once we made it to Morrell's office we saw a girl waiting, "You here for Ms. Morrell?" Stiles asks.

"No, I thought this was gym class." I would have laughed at her sarcastic reply if we weren't in such a rush to find the woman in question.

"Sweetheart, we're not in the mood for funny. Do you know where she is?" Lydia questions.

"If I did I wouldn't have been waiting here for twenty minutes. So how about you three back out the door and wait your turn."

"We're not here for a session."

"Well I am. And I've got some serious issues to work on."

"You're Danielle. You're Heather's best friend." Stiles says, realizing who the girl is.

"I was Heather's best friend. We've been working on that issue three times a week."

"Hold on. Did you say Morrell's twenty minutes late?" Lydia asks, bringing the attention back to her.

Danielle nods, "And I don't know why either. She's always on time."

Lydia turns her attention to Stiles and I, "I was seeing her at the beginning of the semester. She was never late. Not even a minute."

"Three guesses on where she is." I say looking at Stiles.

"I want to know what she knows." Stiles replies. He starts rifling through papers on her desk then moves to the filing cabinet when he doesn't find anything. I turn to help as the other two look on in shock.

"What are you two doing?" Danielle asks.

"Trying to find her."

"Those files are private."

"She's kinda right." Lydia pipes in.

"Here's yours." Stiles says, pulling out Lydia's file.

"Let me see that." Lydia grabs the file from Stiles hand. She opens it, looking inside. The rest of us looked over her shoulder to see.

"Wait. That's your drawing."

"Yeah, I know. It's a tree."

"You're good." Danielle says, impressed.

Lydia brightly smiles, "Thank you."

"That's the same one." Stiles says.

I gently pull the drawing out of the file to get a better look as Lydia asks him, "The same as what?"

"The same one I've seen you drawing in class."

"It's a tree. I like drawing trees."

"No, he means it's the same one. Like the exact same." I reply, finally tearing my eyes away from the drawing.

"Let me see your bag." Stiles says. He opens her bag to pull out her notebook. When he opens it we see the same drawing found on page after page. The only difference is the size of each drawing.

"Okay, you can have my session. You've got bigger issues." Danielle replies, she stands up and walks out of the room, though the rest of us don't pay much attention.

"What is this?" Lydia asks, clearly frightened.

Stiles and I are both quiet as we study the drawings, "Wait. What if it's not supposed to be looked at this way?" I speak up. I take one of the drawings and turn it upside down.

"I know where they are." Stiles says.

"The root cellar." I add, voiced laced with disbelief.

After putting Lydia's file back where we found it we rushed out of Morrell's office. "It's the Nemeton. That's where she's keeping them. It has to be."

"(Y/N), Stilinski!" A voice calls from down the hall.

"I'm not dealing with this right now." I say as soon as my eyes meet my fathers.

"I will, don't worry." Stiles reassures.

"We'll go to Derek's. Him and Peter will know where it is." Stiles nods at my words. I grab Lydia's hand as I tug her away.

"Was that your dad?" Lydia asks.

"Yes, I don't want to interact with him anymore than I need to."

*_*_*_*_*_*

I reach to open the loft door without knocking but stop when it slides open to reveal Peter. "You." Lydia says in shock.

"Me." Peter replies.

Lydia's anger rises, "You."

Peter winces at her tone, "Me." He says once more, almost sounding apologetic. "Derek. We have visitors."

Peter steps back to let us in. We walk past him to see Derek beside Cora. "How is she?" I ask, laying a gentle hand on the Alpha's shoulder.

"Not getting any better." He replies. He then turns around to properly face Lydia and I. "What do you girls need?"

We quickly explain the situation to both Peter and Derek and wait for them to reply. Though when they answer, it isn't what we wanted to hear. "You don't know where it is?" Lydia asks, confused.

"We did. After a few memorable experiences, though..." He shares a look with Derek. "Talia- Derek's mother and my older sister- decided she didn't want us ever going back. She knew how dangerous it was. So she took the memory of its location from us."

"So how do we find out where it is?" I ask, my frustration rising.

*_*_*_*_*_*

After leaving Derek's loft we met up with Stiles, Isaac, and Allison at the Animal Clinic. All of us, plus the vet, stood around an exam table, "It has to be on a Telluric Current. Maybe even at the axis of two. Or where all intersect. I know it's where Derek took Paige to die." Stiles speaks, glancing at me as he says the last part.

"My dad and Gerard were there once. But Gerard said it was years ago and he couldn't remember where it was. And my dad obviously isn't going to be able to tell us now." Allison says.

"Mine either."

"She took everyone who would remember." Lydia pipes in.

"Then how do we find this place?" Isaac questions.

"That's the same question I asked Peter and Derek. They didn't have an answer." I reply.

We turn to Deaton, "Doc?" Stiles asks.

Deaton sighs, "There might be a way. But it's dangerous. And most importantly, for it to work... We're going to need Scott."

*_*_*_*_*_*

Stiles, Deaton, and I stood in front of Stiles jeep. The headlights of the car lighting up the darkness around us. Scott steps out from the shadows, slowly making his way over to us. "How did you find out?" Scott asks.

"Lydia. You?" Stiles answers.

"Morrell. But none of the Alphas know where it is either."

"If this works, are you going to tell them?"

"I can't stop Jennifer without them."

"How about we concentrate on finding your parents first?" Deaton pipes in.

Scott nods, "What's the plan?"

"Essentially, you, Allison and Stiles need to be surrogate sacrifices for your parents."

"So we die for them?"

"But he can bring us back." Stiles says. He then turns to Deaton, "You can definitely bring us back, right?"

"Hopefully, yes."

"Hopefully?" I ask, bringing the attention to me.

"You remember the part where I said it was dangerous?" Deaton then turns to Scott, "If it goes right, the three of you will only be dead for a few seconds. But there's something else you need to think about. This is a dangerous thing in more ways than one. You'll be giving power back to the Nemeton. A place that hasn't had power for a long time. When it did, Beacon Hills was quite different. This kind of power is like a magnet."

"A magnet for the supernatural?" I ask.

Deaton nods so Stiles speaks, "Doesn't sound any worse than what we've already seen."

"You'd be surprised what you have yet to see." Deaton ominously says.

"Is that it?" Scott asks, hoping that that's all there is to worry about.

"No. It'll also have an affect on the three of you. You won't be able to see it, but you'll feel it every day for the rest of your lives. It'll be a kind of darkness over your heart. And permanent. Like a scar."

"Like a tattoo." Scott whispers.

*_*_*_*_*_*

Reconvening at the Animal Clinic, Scott, Stiles and Allison step towards the tubs filled with ice. "All right. What did you bring?" Deaton asks the three teenagers.

Stiles holds up his dad's badge, "Jennifer kind of crushed it in her hand. I hammered it out a bit. Still doesn't look great."

"It doesn't have to look good if it has meaning." Deaton's eyes then move to Allison.

She holds up a silver bullet, "Is that an actual silver bullet?" Isaac asks, looking at it cautiously.

"My dad made it. It's sort of a ceremonial thing. When one of us finishes learning all the skills to be a Hunter, you forge your own silver bullet as a testament to the code." Allison replies.

"Scott?" Deaton asks, looking at my twin.

He holds up mom's watch, "My dad gave this to my mom when she first got hired at the hospital. She used to say it was the only thing in their marriage that ever worked."

Stiles looks it over, "It says water-resistant. Not waterproof."

"I don't think she's going to mind if it saves her life."

"Okay, the three of you will get in. Each of us will hold you down until you're essentially... well, dead. But it's not just someone to hold you under. It's someone who can pull you back. Someone with a strong connection to you. A kind of emotional tether."

Lydia immediately starts moving towards Allison while I move towards Scott. "(Y/N), you go with Stiles."

"Scott's my twin though. I'm pretty sure we have the biggest emotional connection." I say, giving the vet a questioning look.

"You'll be able to bring Stiles back and Isaac will be able to bring Scott."

I look in between Scott and Stiles, unsure what to do. Scott gives me an encouraging nod, "It's okay."

We all take our places and the trio steps into the tubs. They shiver as they sit down and Stiles turns towards Scott, "By the way, if I don't come back and you do, you should probably know something. Your dad's in town."

Scott quickly glances at me seeing an unreadable expression on my face. I give him a brief nod then he turns back around to focus on the task at hand. In an instant Isaac, Lydia, and I all push our respective people under the water, waiting until they lay still.

~~~~~~~~~~

Taglist: @crazy-fan-101 @rogershoe @judayyyw

#teen wolf #teen wolf imagine #teen wolf rewrite #series rewrite #sister mccall imagine #lydia martin imagine

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aries-writingblog · 3 years

Text

Atlas (3)

Summary: After years of being imprisoned on the Raft, Tony negotiates freedom for his sister Tessa. When she’s free- so is her past, and it will never stop hunting her.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x OC(Stark)

Chapter Word count: 1879

Warnings: PTSD (subtle ish), trauma, torture (in later parts), suicidal behaviors and thoughts, mentions of death, character death, injury, violence, angst, and a lil bit of fluff in there

Disclaimer: Atlas is my own, original work with characters belonging to Marvel (except Tessa and Dr. Clifton). Plagiarism is not cool kids.

A/N: this is my first work Im posting to this platform and I’m really excited and nervous about it. Hope you enjoy- constructive criticism is always helpful as well!!

She was becoming more comfortable in the Tower. Bucky noticed that Tessa would come down for breakfast- she was always missing by lunch- and would sometimes make an appearance at dinner. The nights she didn’t, he would catch her in the kitchen after hours, eating leftovers. She didn’t seem to mind him joining her anymore. In fact, she was speaking to everyone more and more every day. But something was bound to go wrong eventually. And it happened at the worst possible time.

It had been decided that Tessa would join Bucky, Sam and Steve on a recon mission. It was a small group of the new rebels, based in a small town in Italy. It would be a quick mission- get into their under armed base and get as much information they could. They weren’t planning on any heavy lifting but it would be an easy mission to get Tessa back in the swing of things.

Bucky had been surprised when Tessa sat beside him during the flight- of course a seat over but he had just about figured her out. She never initiated contact and she always kept space between herself and someone else. She didn’t have control of her enhancement at all. She never trained with another human being, never even used her powers near anyone on the team. Not even to heat soup- which if he had the option, Bucky would do every day of his life.

He had been even more surprised when a small box landed in his lap. He glanced up to Tessa, seeing her meet his eyes.

“What’s this?” He’d asked. Picking at the bow on top of the box. She shrugged as he tugged it open. Pushing the lid back, there were two dog tags on a chain, lying inside. They read her name, number and squad unit.

“Last night, you mentioned that they hadn’t recovered your dog tags... kinda seemed like you wanted them back and I know it’s not the same but... I don’t wear mine, if you wanted to use them.” Bucky stared at the tags, picking them up and letting them dangle between his metal fingers. He looked over to her.

“You want me to wear your tags?” He asked, slightly confused by the gesture. Tessa shrugged and clipped her seatbelt on for take off.

“Only if you want.”

“You don’t use them? At all?”

She stared at the tags, a flicker of anguish danced in her eyes before she ripped her gaze away from them.

“I don’t want them.”

So he accepted them. No matter how much Sam was gonna make fun of him for it. He had mentioned his tags during one of their late night meetings in the kitchen. She’d remembered. And gave him her identity. It made him wonder why she didn’t want it. Why she gave them to him. He knew something happened between her experiment and her being admitted to the Raft. Something major. And the tags were another piece of the puzzle. It happened in the army.

The moment the quinjet touched ground, the four of them set off to the coordinates. Turns out, there were thirty soldiers at that base and they had no intention of letting anyone leave alive. They were much more prepared than the group of four had anticipated. Bucky had been distracted, giving Tessa no instructions. That had been made very clear to the three men- she couldn’t do anything spontaneous. She had to have clear, specific instructions if she wanted to remain on parole.

She was simply, thrown into the fight. And the whole building went up in flames. Sam had managed to slip into the control room, miraculously escaping with the intel. Tessa had panicked, as the last man fell to the ground, flames licking at his clothes. Steve finally had to grab her frozen body and haul ass from the building. Tessa went kicking and screaming the whole way- afraid to burn him. She was still trying to keep her control and it wasn’t working too well.

Steve’s shoulder did get burned by her hand- a large red welp forming on his shoulder. Bucky had been hit on the shoulder with a fallen beam, only jarring it. Sam was fine, just a small cough. But Tessa... Tessa sat in the very back of the quinjet the whole way back to the tower, frozen and staring at the wall. Curled in on herself.

When everyone gathered around the conference table, it had been to explain the situation. Tessa sat at the end, still shell shocked and now she was back in chains, with the cylinders on her arms and hands. Tony was present, as her guardian, and Sam, Steve and Bucky were there to explain. And two people they were all finally able to meet- Tessa’s parole officer and her therapist.

Her therapist was knelt beside her, trying to coax anything from the woman who refused to look at, or speak to, anyone. The whole time, they stayed like that. With Tessa barely engaging. Finally, her parole officer relented to her therapist and allowed Tessa to be escorted to her apartment to try and let her calm down. The decision would be made without her.

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

“I should go tell her the news.” Tony announced, staring at the table. Bucky’s fingers found the cool metal resting against his chest, his fingertips running over the words engraved. A sudden urge took over his senses. Leaving his mind blank except for one thing- Tessa Stark.

“I’ll go- you guys should get started on that intel. The faster we get it all done, the easier it will be on everyone.” Bucky stood up and tucked his chair under. Steve caught his eye, his brows pinching at the newfound attention to Tessa. Tony seemed to have suspicions about it as well, as he almost argued but Sam cut him off.

“Yeah- I’d hate to agree with him but it’ll be easier to work and plan if we move now. Before things change.”

So Bucky found himself in front of her apartment door, lifting a hand to knock. There was no answer. So he tried the handle- finding it unlocked. He crept inside her apartment- the layout similar to his own. He searched the whole place- a slight panic taking over his systems when she was nowhere to be found- before finding her, knees to her heaving chest, tucked into her bedroom corner. Bucky knocked on the wall gently and her head shot up, eyes red and filled with unshed tears.

“Hey, it’s alright- everything is alright.” He tried for a soothing tone as he approached carefully, kneeling in front of her. Her grip on her knees tightened as she met his eyes.

“They’re sending me back- aren’t they?” She swallowed around harsh tears. “I have to go back to the Raft.”

“No, no. We figured it all out, it’s okay. You’re staying here.” Bucky explained, reaching a hand out to her knee. His attempt at comfort. “No one’s taking you anywhere.” A loud sob ripped from her throat and she shoved her head into her knees, trying to soften the sounds. Bucky cautiously crept forward until he could wrap his arms around her body. Tessa shot back, weakly protesting his proximity. “It’s alright, you aren’t gonna hurt me, darlin’. I’ll be just fine.”

After a long, stiff moment, she allowed the touch, welcomed it as she melted into his shoulder, dissolving into a puddle of frustration and anger at herself. She had lost her control. During the fight, she had been back there. And all of a sudden, her veins filled with panicked warmth. Her muscles stalling as she watched everything burn.

“I’m sorry- I didn’t mean to- it was an accident...” Tessa mumbled into his shoulder. Bucky felt his heart break, holding her together in his arms. If he let go, she would shatter against the ground. So he held her tighter, relishing in the embrace from the woman. “I’m sorry...”

“It’s alright...” Bucky shushed her gently, keeping her tucked into his shoulder. He brought his metal fingers up to brush through her hair gently, trying everything her knew to calm her down.

After what seemed to be hours of this, the atmosphere in the room was calm, the pair had shifted into a more comfortable position. Bucky’s legs spread wide, his back against the wall and Tessa tucked into his chest, hugging his torso. Both of them felt the exhaustion from the day’s events. And before long, they’d drifted off, holding onto each other.

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

Bucky’s subconscious began to wave red flags when he could smell smoke. And also a more intense heat than usual. His final red flag was the movement against him- something moving violently. He snapped his eyes open to see flames engulfing his body. Tessa was asleep, fitfully squirming against his chest.

Without thinking, Bucky separated himself and frantically rolled over, pulling his t shirt from his body. Tessa gasped, waking up from what seemed to be a nightmare. Bucky quickly slapped the flame out of his discarded shirt, sitting on her floor, gasping for breath.

“I’m sorry.” Tessa’s apology was immediate. “I never should have let you stay- I should’ve woken up. I’m so sorry.”

“What happened?” Bucky’s voice was rough with panic and sleep. Tessa shoved herself into the corner as far away from him as she could manage.

“Nightmares- memories... I-I- I don’t know what they are- but it happens and I wake up and there’s fire. Bucky, I’m so sorry- I’m an idiot!” She was still a mess from earlier today.

“It’s okay, I’m okay- no burns, nothing.” Bucky promised, reaching out with his metal arm. He didn’t like using it but he thought that she would see she couldn’t burn it and accept the touch. She didn’t. She flinched back even further, refusing the contact.

“Just go!” She demanded, stopping his movements. “Please... leave...”

“Tessa... it’s okay-“

“Go!” She shouted. Bucky sighed and stood up. He stood there, watching her shake and close up. And then, he did as she said. He closed the door softly behind him. She just needed time to recoup. Everything would be fine in a few days. It just moved too quickly for her to comprehend and maintain her control. Bucky could do slow. He cared about her, more than he would admit to anyone that questioned him. But that had been the easiest he’d fallen asleep in weeks. And seeing her upset like that only made him feel worse.

He didn’t know what to do. Sure, he’d flirted with a few girls here and there. Sam had set him up on one of the new dating apps once but it was too much of a hassle to navigate. But Tessa... it seemed so easy. Their late night conversations, which he now knew were caused by nightmares, the conversations they had at dinner, and the few times they had spoken in passing. It meant something to him. Tessa meant something to him. But now... she may never want to be around him again. She thought she’d hurt him, too bruised to see straight. He’d need to be patient. And for her, he could have all the patience in the world.

#james barnes #james buchanan barnes #bucky barnes x oc #bucky x oc #bucky barnes fic

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im-up-to-no-good · 4 years

Text

I solemnly swear ( Part 6 )

Summary: Y/N Potter is the twin-sister of James Potter and the current teacher for Care of Magical Creatures at Hogwarts during Harry's third year.

As the news of Sirius Black breaking out ouf Azkaban start to spread, her life is turned upside down as it gets harder and harder to keep their feelings for each other hidden in the dark.

What will happen when Harry finds out about his aunt's long kept secret?

A/N: I finally did it. I promise you won’t have to wait this long again for the next part, I’ll try my best to work on it soon! If you want to be part of the taglist, please feel free to tell me. I’ll be happy to add you!

I’d be glad if you leave some constructive criticism, thoughts, whatever you want to do, so I can improve my writing. Enjoy the new part!

Word count: 2376

________________

You tried your very best to ignore these last few minutes and your argument with Harry, but his last words just didn't seem to leave your mind.

Liar.

Traitor.

It was hard for you to repeat these things inside of your head but you knew pretty well that he had a point with that. You lied to him all those years. And you lied to yourself too even if you thought that your intentions were good. He had every right to be confused or mad because of you. In the end you kind of were the problem.

It didn't take long for you to leave Hogsmeade behind of yourself but with every minute passing it seemed as if it would get harder and harder for you to walk on the snowy pathway.

You tried your best to keep walking but within a short amount of time the whole weather changed completely as if someone suddenly pulled a lever. The sun disappeared behind a thick layer of clouds while everything around you went out of control. There were no longer snowflakes falling silently from the sky, but a storm that cut into your skin like cold little knives. The wind blew faster every second now and your feet could barely keep you on the ground. You kneeled down instinctively and tried to shield your eyes with one of your arms. You tried to concentrate to find a way out of this mess, unfortunately you could barely even see your own hand in front of you. Your gaze wandered around until you could finally make out a silhouette a bit away from you, but you couldn't quite identify what it was.

Not until a loud growl pervaded the storm.

Your eyes widened and you took out your wand immediately. You knew that sound and you knew what was going on, or at least you thought you did. You raised up your wand, looked at the sky and shouted.

"Finite Incantatem!"

As soon as these words left your mouth the storm seemed to fade away almost instantly. Everything went back to normal as if nothing happened in the first place. You let out a breath you didn't know you were holding and stood up again, your whole body slightly shaking from the cold consuming you. You looked around yourself until your eyes got stuck on the silhouette you saw just a few moments before. Now you could see it as clear as day and your grip on your wand tightened.

There he was.

Dirty and disheveled, hiding behind an animalistic mask. You stared into his eyes in pure shock and anger, but all you could see was pain and sadness looking back at you.

"Sirius.."

Your voice was barely above a whisper right now, but you were sure that he heard you loud and clear. He laid down on the ground carefully to show you that you didn't need to be scared of him, like he did the first time when you found out about his little secret, but you couldn't help the mistrust inside of yourself. And you were sure he could sense it as he lowered his head, followed by a silent whine.

You lowered your wand resistantly and slowly made one step into his direction, but as soon as you did so he jumped back onto his feet and ran away. You couldn't process what was happening until you heard a voice shouting your name behind of you.

You turned around to see McGonagall running into your direction, concern covering her whole face.

"Y/N! Y/N, dear, are you alright?"

You stared at Minerva as if she was a ghost and she understood immediately what was going on inside of your head. She swallowed hard before she patted you on the back and pulled you towards the carriage you were driving with earlier.

You sat down almost mindlessly, a blank look on your face. She covered your body with a blanket and took a seat across from you after that. You shook your head slowly and looked into her eyes. You didn't know how to talk about this situation. Maybe because you really didn't know what exactly was going on.

You knew for sure that someone used magic to manipulate the weather but for you it didn't appear as if Sirius was the one who put you in danger. Why would he stay there if he was the one responsible for this storm? It all just didn't make sense to you. And maybe this was the reason why you felt so helpless right know. You always knew an answer. You weren't the one to be speechless. But here you were, fighting to find the right words to say.

"Y/N, did you hear what I said?"

You shook your head apologetically before you looked into Minerva's worried eyes again.

"No, I'm sorry, I didn't. Would you mind repeating it?"

She forced a small smile and nodded shortly after.

"It seems as if someone tried to harm you on purpose today, Y/N. This storm appeared out of nowhere."

"And it was all confined to my whereabouts, right?"

She nodded simultaneously and continued talking.

"I'm certain we both know who tried to end what he began a long time ago."

"We don't know for sure Minerva. I can think of one or two other people out there who would love to see me injured or even worse."

"You have to take this matter seriously, there's nothing funny about what happened."

She put her hand on your shoulder and forced a smile again.

"I believe it's better now if you take a rest until we get back. You don't look too good, dear."

You wanted to disagree with her but you could feel how exhausted you were. You pulled the blanket closer to your body and closed your eyes for a short amount of time. Well, at least you thought so.

You woke up in your own bed again. Confusion spread on your face as you saw the time on the clock beside of you. It was almost midnight by now. You slowly sat up and shook your head in disbelief, how could you possibly fade out for so long?

Right as you wanted to stand up you felt a hand on your shoulder which gently pushed you down into a sitting position again.

"Where do you think you're going?"

Just now you finally noticed that Remus was standing right next to your bed. He was probably waiting the whole time for you to wake up.

"How long have you been here?"

He smiled at you before he gave an answer.

"Exactly for how long you've been asleep. I wanted to get an explanation from your own perspective, not from Minnie's."

You could see the concern in his eyes even if he tried to hide it behind a joke. You laid down on your bed again and gestured for him to join you. You both stared at the ceiling for another minute before you finally felt ready to summarize these happenings.

"Well, were do I start? Harry used the invisibility cloak to go to Hogsmeade today, even if I told him to stay here at Hogwarts. One thing led to another and he found out about Sirius."

You paused for a second before you found the words to continue.

"He ran into the woods afterwards and I followed straight after him. As soon as I finally caught up, he confronted me with all the things he heard during my conversation with Minerva and told me that he hates me for that."

Remus turned to look at you sadly but your gaze was still lingering on the ceiling.

"I ignored it as best as I could. I told him to go back to Hogwarts and started to make my way back on my own. I just needed to get my head clear. That's when the weather freaked out."

Now it was your turn to look at Remus who had a puzzled look on his face.

"The weather changed all of a sudden?"

"That's the part where all their precious theories begin."

You forced a laugh and Remus couldn't help but join in.

"Let me guess. Minerva is sure that Sirius is responsible for the things that happened to you but you still can't get yourself to believe the same?"

You nodded your head.

"At least he's not the only one out there who would know a charm like that."

"I know you still have hope that he is innocent, so I won't start an argument again. But please promise me one thing. Please don't underestimate him. You have to be more careful, Y/N."

You stared at him as his words slowly settled in, but a reassuring smile spread on your lips soon after that. You both sat up again and you hugged him.

"I know what I'm doing. I promise."

He let go of you and stood up again.

"You should go back to sleep, you still seem to be a little bit weak. I'll see you tomorrow morning."

"Good night, Remus."

He walked out of the room and closed the door quietly behind himself. You laid down again and closed your eyes, slowly falling back to sleep.

________________

"Come on Y/N/N, just one prank."

"Sirius, please, I'm trying to learn over here."

Sirius walked back and forth in front of your bed since about twenty minutes now, madly trying to get you out of your dorm room to prank the Slytherin's.

"Then you shouldn't have asked me to spend some time with you today."

You put your book down and stood up, leaning against the frame of your bed.

"I didn't. I said I'll try to learn for the test we'll write in less than a week and you just said no and followed me upstairs."

He opened his mouth to protest but the right words didn't seem to get out of it. And he knew it pretty well as a small superior smile slowly appeared on your face.

"I've won padfoot."

"I won't give up so easily, princess."

He walked past you and made himself comfortable on your bed while you were just standing there watching him.

"And you believe that this is helpful to convince me?"

You crossed your arms in front of your chest and sat down opposite him. He watched you carefully before he continued.

"I just need to distract you as long as I can until you don't want to look into this stupid book anymore."

He grinned victoriously but so did you too as you put out your wand.

"Accio."

He lost his grip on the book and you easily took it.

"Oh please, love. You had better ideas than that."

He looked at you dumbfounded as these words left your mouth but he found his cool manner back again real quick. He leaned forward and took your hand without any kind of hesitation.

"Y/N Euphemia Potter."

You squinted your eyes, not knowing what he was about to do now.

"I would be honored to have you as my loyal companion in this next prank. I'm sure I'll need your shining brilliance and lack of following the rules to get out of this succesfully."

He made a dramatic pause and stood up, you following suit as he still hold onto your hand.

"Will you join me, your majesty?"

You shook your head while holding back your laughter as he bowed in front of you.

"You're unbelievable."

He bit his bottom lip and waited for you to answer his question. You rolled your eyes and smiled.

"How could I possibly say no to that."

Now it was his turn to smile at you mischievously and he put one arm around your shoulder, pulling you closer to his side.

"Listen carefully my love, you will never ever hear another idea as good as this one."

You turned your head to look at him and waited for him to explain his plan but at the same time you heard the door open behind of you both.

"Y/N/N have you seen Padfoot by any chance?"

You both turned around as James walked into the room, followed by Remus and Peter. He stopped in his tracks as he saw Sirius’ arm around your shoulder.

"You're a little too close to my sister, mate."

Sirius let go of you almost instantly as if he got bitten by snake, but nevertheless succeeded to let it look casual. You looked down at the ground and smiled to yourself.

"We have a lot of work to do, let's go."

You made your way to the door and dragged Peter and James with you. Remus and Sirius still didn't leave their spot.

"What were you doing here, Padfoot? We've searched the whole school for you."

Remus crossed his arms in front of his chest and stared at Sirius, a slightly annoyed look on his face.

"Sorry Moony, I just needed to involve Y/N/N in our next prank, you're all going to love it!"

"Sure, that's all you wanted to do here, lovebird."

Sirius glared at Remus who couldn't help but smirk at his reaction.

"Are you out of your mind, she could hear you!"

But you were already walking down the stairs, oblivious to what was happening behind of yourself.

As you reached the common room you turned around to look at James.

"I still have one question before we can start this prank."

Remus and Sirius joined you three and waited for you to continue.

"Padfoot said I will never ever hear another idea as good as this one. So what exactly are we going to do?"

They all started to smile mischievously and you started to wonder if you really wanted to hear the plan. Sirius put his arm around your shoulder again, not minding James this time, and dragged you to the entrance of the common room.

"We'll start in the Slytherin common room."

"You don't say."

"Sh, don't Interrupt me."

You hold back a laugh and waited for him to end his little dramatic speech.

"And then we do nothing more than intervene a little in the weather."

taglist: @frederikkeborup @puppetofyourdreams @avengersassemblee

#harry potter #marauders era #sirius black x reader #sirius black #remus lupin #james potter #lily evans #peter pettigrew #i solemnly swear i am up to no good #harry potter fanfiction #minerva mcgonagall

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irondad-not-ironsad · 4 years

Text

Fix-It

For most it was like the blink of an eye. One second it was 2018, the next it was 2023. People say it was actually extremely disorienting- many refused to believe it, insisting it was a dream or a trick. After they were convinced it was true they had to adjust to a life with five years missing. No one would claim it was a positive experience, but Peter viewed them as the lucky ones, because they didn’t feel it. They didn’t experience the strange tingling sensation, alerting them that something was wrong but not telling them what. They did not stumble into the arms of their mentor, knowing what was about to come but not knowing how to stop it. They didn’t have time to cry, to beg, to plead that they didn’t want to go. They didn’t feel their body tear itself apart, piece by piece, starting at their fingers and toes and slowly creeping inwards. They didn’t have to look Mr. Stark in the face and watch as he began to blame himself. They didn’t have to gather the last of their strength to utter out an apology for the grief they knew they would cause.

Not only did Peter remember every excruciating second of his dusting, but also the feeling of being reformed, of his body slowly knitting itself back together. His head reformed first and he had the slightly terrifying experience of watching and feeling his limbs reform. It did not necessarily hurt, but it was distinctly unpleasant. There are no words to describe the feeling of suddenly going from being nothing to being something. The rest of the team on Titan all blipped back at the same time, a few seconds after Peter. The guardians hadn’t even realized they blipped, Dr. Strange had to explain it to them when they asked where Tony and Nebula had gone. Peter had been unable to do anything besides sit there silently and try not to hyperventilate. These people were practically strangers, and Peter was unsure if it was a blessing or a curse that they did not know him well enough to sense his distress.

Next thing he knew, they were portalling directly into a battle. When Peter saw Mr. Stark he wanted to break down and beg to go home, but then he remembered the look on the man’s face when he was dusting, and remembered Tony's declaration that he would view it as his own fault if Peter died. So instead of burying his head in his mentor’s chest and weeping he tried to be nonchalant. Though his actually mask was off, he was very much still wearing one when he greeted Tony, referring to what happened as him getting all dusty. He was aware that he was rambling, but that was pretty typical of him so it wouldn’t betray his true feelings. Peter knew that if Mr. Stark realized how scared he was, he would leave the battle to take him a safe distance away. As the battle raged around them, Peter prepared for the quip about not needing to start a conversation, but was pleasantly surprised when instead Mr. Stark pulled him into a tight hug,

He couldn’t be sure, but he thinks he heard the man asking him to “hold me, kid” Peter allowed himself a few moments to feel safe in his arms, and desperately tried to banish the dampness in his eyes. He felt a feather light kiss to the side of his head before Mr. Stark released him, ruffling his hair in a manner that seemed playful but a fond look in his eyes that was anything but. With that, they returned to battle.

A hard fought battle, a quiet yet resounding declaration and defeat of an army later found Peter kneeling on the ground in front of his mentor, trying to find the right words to say. He figured that at the very least Tony deserved to know that he was successful. With one last apology, Peter allowed Pepper to gently pull him away. In his head he could hear Mr. Stark reprimanding him for apologizing for something that was not his fault.

Those who weren’t dusted claimed they could always tell who wasn’t. They say the blip caused everyone left to lose the last of their innocence, that those who were blipped still have a certain glimmer in their eyes that everyone else lost five years ago. Though no one would say it out loud, there were many that began to resent the dusted,resent the innocence they still had. On the other hand, many of the dusted secretly resented those who weren’t. In that moment on the compound turned battlefield turned graveyard, Peter lost what little glimmer there was left in his eyes.

Somehow, miraculously, wondrously Tony Stark recovered. He made the decision to allow the world to believe he had died to allow himself to truly retire and raise his daughter in the peaceful world he had saved. Not even all of the avengers were allowed to know this. Peter wasn’t quite sure who all knew, but at least Pepper, Morgan, Happy and Rhodey were aware of the secret. Tony allowed Peter to inform his aunt as well.

Peter was happy for his mentor, he truly was. It was just hard, Tony wasn’t able to come to the city to visit like he used to for fear of being spotted. Between school and patrol Peter hardly ever had time to visit upstate. Despite this, he made sure to keep in contact with Mr. Stark.

A part of Peter felt guilty for not being happy. In his opinion, he had no reason to feel the way he did. He came back to life, his family was healthy and alive and he suddenly had a new little sister who looked at him as if he hung the stars in the sky. Still, no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t help but feel that there was some part of him missing, a small piece of his soul that never managed to reform after the blip. Logically, he knew he should talk to someone about it, but compared to the chaos caused by the blip his problems felt to miniscule to worry anyone with. As he climbed into his bedroom following a hard yet exhilarating patrol, he pulled out his phone to give Mr. Stark a call before bed. His post patrol high halted when the call when to voicemail. Putting on his most excited and carefree voice he began to leave a voicemail.

“Hey Mr. Stark, you would not believe the day I’ve had! School is so weird now with half hour class having graduate and now being adults. There are kids who were in my grade who now have kids! Some of the non blipped kids my age are pretty cool too…”

As Peter rambles on about his day, he hopes that he has managed to disguise the disappointment in his voice.

Part 1/?

AN: I will be honest, this is all I have written so far, but I have a very well thought out plot if you guys like this and want it continued. I started writing this like 2 months ago but just kept losing inspiration. Nothing would make me happier then being sent asks with you guys’ thoughts. Constructive criticism is welcome, but try not to be cruel. Also if anyone would be willing to read over future parts for grammar before I post them and/ or help me develop ideas please message me. Thank you for reading!!

ALSO the title just says fix it because I suck at titles, so please send me any recommendations you have!

#my writing #iron dad #irondad #peter parker #spider-man #tony stark #ironman #marvel #pepper potts #morgan stark #mcu #avengers #avengers endgame #endgame #spiderman #spider son #IRON DAD AND SPIDER SON

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rorvk · 5 years

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Snow is the Ideal Lightning: an FFXIII Analysis

I don’t really see this brought up a lot, and I would like to talk about it. FFXIII spoilers.

Snow and Lightning’s relationship is one of the most complex friendships in the FF franchise. The combination of insecurity, jealousy, humor, tension, reconciliation, and eventual familial love is what solidifies itself as intricate and impressionable. In this thoughtpiece I would like to explore a less discussed aspect in Snow and Lightning’s dynamic.

Lightning and Snow, despite surface impressions, aren’t that fundamentally different as people.

To start, they share similar backstories and attributions derived from said backstories. Snow and Lightning are both orphans who suffered from lack of parental guidance, and in turn, they became the parental guidance figure for the people around them. Snow for the NORA members he grew up with since his orphanage, and Lightning for Serah’s sake when the Farron sisters were bereaved.

As a result of this, Snow and Lightning both place emphasis on heroism and familial values for the sake of others. Snow grows into his hero role as a vigilante group leader, but also acts as a family man towards them, even drawing Maqui out of his shell of introversion before he joined NORA. Snow even states he wants to have a “big happy family” with Serah, and a large part of his heroic efforts in XIII in general are for her sake at a constant. Lightning also strove to obtain her idea of heroism, but the methods she used to do so weren’t beneficial in the long-term. The bereaved Lightning, at the age of 15, had an idea of heroism that focused on physical strength as means of protecting and providing for her family, and thus joined the army. Regardless of effectiveness, both fundamentally follow very traditional models of heroes to embody a pillar of physical and parental strength for the people around them who depend on them.

Where Lightning and Snow are disparate is the effectiveness of their values and how they conduct themselves, emotionally, in their ideas of heroism. Snow wears his heart on his sleeve, and also is very emotionally accommodating (when not being oblivious). He fulfills the roles of his (unpaid) job and family in almost every aspect. Lightning, on the other hand, interpreted being emotional as weakness when she constructed her martial persona as a teen, and also was described to have been emotionally inept in social situations with others as a child. This later spiraled into being destructive, both physically and emotionally to her family and teammates––essentially having Snow’s morals but with am aggressive approach.

Snow and Lightning’s worlds collide when Snow tries to marry Serah, or effectively merge his idea of family with Lightning’s. He even calls Lightning “big sis” in the JP version ( just “sis” in ENG ) to both be accommodating and inclusively familial to her. Lightning sees this as a threat, regardless of Snow’s good intentions, for a number of reasons.

In their first encounter, audio dramas and official novels, Snow and the rest of NORA meet Lightning on a GC mission and effectively save her life from monsters in the field. Amodar, Lightning’s own boss, praises Snow and his teammates for his work, even asking him to join the GC. Snow, of course, immediately denies. Thus begins Lightning’s insecurity towards Snow and everything he and his group stands for.

When prompted by her boss if she had heard of NORA as an organization, Lightning immediately lies out of jealousy as a form of preserving her dignity. Snow & co. were able to accomplish her same job as her without being professionally trained, and were rightly prideful in it, which made Lightning insecure about her own abilities and pride.

Lightning spirals into further insecurity and jealousy when Serah, accompanied by Snow, breaks the news about Serah being a l’cie at Lightning’s 21st birthday party, and also news of their engagement.

Lightning interprets this as a ploy by Serah to have an excuse to get married to Snow. She lashes out by threatening the possibility of killing her as an intimidation tactic, and also did this because she wanted control over the situation to mitigate the insecurity over “losing” Serah. Regardless of her intentions, she emotionally hurt Serah who straight up runs away, the opposite of what she intended to do: to protect her.

In the novels it is shown that Lightning had been emotionally dissonant with Serah prior to this fiasco. Ever since she joined the Guardian Corps, she was consumed with her career and estranged herself from Serah, chasing and becoming a toxic idea of heroism while unintentionally running away from her problems. She becomes aware of how she negatively affected Serah after the encounter, but she does not understand that the problem is not only from not spending time with Serah––the emotional strain between them is from her own toxicity and escapism, which the game itself tackles.

Snow picks up where Lightning “left off”, and after confronting her, vows to be the one to protect Serah, implying Lightning has already given up this position despite being Serah’s blood family. Serah herself criticizes Lightning’s approach of good intentions with bad actions and emotional neglect, and how Snow was a bigger emotional support to her than Lightning was.

Snow does what Lightning can’t––but wants to do––through his constant direct action. Naturally, this causes the jealousy from Lightning’s behalf towards Snow in their relationship in the course of the events of the game.

In the first half of the chapters in XIII, Snow and Lightning collide at every turn, even so far as to get physical.

Snow’s belief and trust in Serah is his guide for a large part of his sense of hopefulness and positivity. Snow is willing to do “whatever it takes“ and because a combination of guilt and responsibility, he is bent on protecting Serah and keeping his word.

Lightning is also consumed by guilt over failing Serah, but runs away from addressing the actual problem or providing viable solutions not rooted in senseless violence/fighting. Lightning also wants to do “whatever it takes”, and even recognizes in Chapter 3 that Snow has the right idea, but her insecurity towards him prevents her from cooperating.

Another reason Lightning lashes out on him is, because instead of verbally acknowledging herself as the problem as to why she “lost” Serah, she thinks it’s easier to take her frustration out on Snow––the manifestation of her mistakes. Snow is also someone who shared similar values and even a similar job, played by the rules, and was able to fulfill the roles of family man not just to one person, but to multiple people, and thus excels in actualizing his desires and values, unlike Lightning.

Neither he government, l’cie curse, nor Snow were the ones who took Serah away from Lightning, in an emotional sense. The estrangement between the sisters and both the rapport between Snow and Serah is a product of Lightning’s own actions and deficiency, which she refuses to understand and own up to for a large part of the narrative.

Lightning eventually comes to terms with her impractical idea of strength and begins to unpack such mindset. She gradually understood the persona she constructed as a teen backfired, emotionally stunted her growth, and poisoned the familial relationship she was trying to preserve in the first place. The turning point of this mindset is when she shows weakness and honesty in making peace with the physical representation of her guilt and shortcomings: Snow.

At the end of the day, Lightning and Snow are both people with similar experiences, goals, and morals, but are different in their success in engineering their reality to match their personal values. They clash because of Lightning’s insecurity and jealousy, and it’s only when Lightning decides to give up her pride and talk through her problems that she is able to move on from such negative feelings.

In her emotional growth, Lightning admits she desired the ideal pillar of emotional strength that Snow provided for the team, and begins to channel and reapply herself into that same paragon. She becomes the ideal hero she wanted to be, but specifically in the emotional department, even supporting Snow in his times of despair, along with the rest of her teammates and family.

Disclaimer: I’m sorry if this makes Snow look angelic, he is very flawed as a human being and that’s literally the entire point of the Snow+Hope arc, this is just me talking about him in the context of Lightning’s perspective of jealousy, she herself even acknowledged some problems with his personality.

My sources are the trilogy, the Episode Zero Promise novels, and the audio dramas. Thanks for reading!

#final fantasy #ff #final fantasy xiii #ffxiii #ff13 #final fantasy 13 #my meta #not art #sorry

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iplaydrake · 5 years

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FULL CIRCLE - CHAPTER 2 - HOW TO BREAK A MENDED HEART

Catch Up Here :

CHAPTER 1 - INTRODUCING THE BROTHERS BEAUMONT AND THEIR LITTLE SISTER

Author’s Note : This story is gonna get a little dark. Suicide, Assault (both physical and sexual), Gun Violence, Blood, Swearing. Please read with caution. Positive feedback, constructive criticism, and reblogging are always welcome. I own nothing except the storyline of my MC. Everything else belongs to Pixelberry.

Pairing : (Eventually) Drake x MC

Tag List : @likethetailofacomet @carabeth @rhymesmenagerie @speedyoperarascalparty @butindeed @wannabemc2 @client-327 @jovialyouthmusic @be-still-my-aching-heart @riseandshinelittleblossom @lodberg @drakesensworld @alj4890 @jlouise88

*** MANHATTAN, NY *** PRESENT DAY

She stood in her closet, smiling, as she put her phone down after reading Liam's last text. She'd kept every promise she made to him that day. She never called him, knowing that seeing her name come up on his caller ID would only make him worry, so she kept their communication to strictly texts. They'd never stuck to the once a month rule though, each sending random texts here and there, sometimes having conversations that would last days at a time. And after 3 long years of counseling, her therapist had officially cleared her, but she still continued to go once a month, feeling like she needed it to stay healthy, mentally. She'd managed to save a good portion of the money her parents had sent her over the years and now she had a beautiful apartment overlooking Central Park, a great job at an upscale bar, and with her continued hard work she'd be able to finish nursing school in a few months. After all this time, she was finally proud of herself and how far she'd come in her life.

The sound of Super Mario Brothers filled her room as she recognized the ringtone for her brother. 'That's weird, Liam just said it was 1:30. Maxwell must be drunk.' she chuckled to herself. She'd heard of tales of epic proportion regarding the parties her brothers would throw and as she answered her phone, she prepared herself for the loud music in the background, surprised when she heard nothing.

"Maxwell? Hey, I'm just getting ready for work. What's up?"

"Nothing! Why does something have to be up? Can't a guy just call his favorite sister from time to time?"

She chuckled again, "Ok, first of all, I'm your ONLY sister. And second, its the middle of the night where you are, so despite not actually seeing you in 6 years, I'd like to think I know you pretty well. Now spill it!"

"Well, I was just seeing if you wanted to hang out with me, but if you're too busy with work, well then..." he trailed off.

"Ha... Ha... Very funny. Where are you?" Before he could answer, there was a knock at her door. "Who the hell... Ugh, Maxwell, hold on..." She ran to the front door, her phone still at her ear and opened it to reveal him leaning against her doorframe, with a goofy grin on his face. She smiled back at him, widely. "I have to call you back." She joked as she clicked off her phone and jumped into his waiting arms. "MAXWELL, OH MY GOD! WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE?!" She hugged him tight, not realizing just how much she had missed him until that moment.

"Man, I missed ya, kid!"

"I missed you too, Maxwell. So much!" She buried her face in his shoulder, tears coming to her eyes. After a couple minutes, she pulled away and put her back to him, wiping her tears before turning back to face him. She hated crying in front of anyone; in 6 years the only ones to see her cry were her therapist and Liam while she had been in the hospital. He knew why she did it and his heart sank a little, but he grabbed her hands pushing her back slightly.

"Wow, look at you! You're beautiful!" She blushed furiously, embarrassed by her brother's praise. "So, are you gonna invite me in or are we gonna catch up in the hallway?"

"Oh my god, of course!" She immediately let him walk past her, directing him in to her living room.

"Nice place you got here!" He let out a low whistle as he looked around.

"Thanks. Can I get you something to drink? Are you hungry? I'm not really home enough to go shopping but we could head to my bar and grab some food there. And I'll see if my boss will let me take the night off!"

"Um, actually, I... already spoke to your boss. He's giving you some time off!"

"Oh... I... Wait? What?"

"Rem, there actually IS a reason I'm here. Come on, let's sit." He grabbed her hands in his and walked them over to her couch and sat, pulling her down next to him. He hated that he had to get right into it but the funeral was in 2 days and their return flight was supposed to leave in the morning.

"Maxwell, what-"

"Rem, I'm so sorry. There's really no easy way to say this but... There was an accident. Mom and Dad were on their way back from some gala-"

"Maxwell..."

"It was raining and their driver must have lost control."

"Maxwell, stop."

"I'm so sorry, Remington. They're gone."

"MAXWELL STOP!" she shouted. She immediately let go of his hands, and stood up, trying to get some distance. "I, uh, I just... need some time... by myself." she whispered.

"Remi, please. Don't shut me out again. Let me-' She had already made it to her room, slamming the door behind her. '...help you..."

She grabbed her phone, typing furiously, not caring what time it was.

As she watched his responses flood her phone, she knew deep down, she wasn't thinking rationally. It wasn't Liam's place to tell her and Maxwell did come in person so she wouldn't be by herself when she found out. But irrationality won out and she turned her phone over, ignoring him. She headed into her bathroom, turned on the shower and laid on the cold tile floor, hoping the sound of the water would drown out her sobs.

*****

Maxwell rested his head on the back of the couch, waiting for her to come back out. After a little while, he felt the vibration of his phone in his pocket and was surprised to see that it was Liam who was calling given the time. "Li? Hey what's going on?"

"Hey Max, I just wanted to check in and see how she was doing?"

"Well, she locked herself in her room about 45 minutes ago, so I would say surprisingly well!" The sarcasm in his voice, evident.

"She's by herself? Maxwell, you should go check on her!"

"She said she just needed some time. She's understandably upset."

"She shouldn't be alone right -"

As Liam spoke, the door to her room finally opened. Her face looked freshly washed, her makeup now gone. If it weren't for her red, puffy eyes, you wouldn't have even been able to tell she'd been crying.

"I, uh, I gotta go, she's back. I'll talk to you later." He hung up without saying another word.

"Who was that?"

"How are you holding up?" She noticed the change in subject and thought better of arguing about it. Of course it was Liam checking on her.

"I'm ok."

"Listen, Rem. Our flight back leaves in the morning so-"

"Oh no, Maxwell! Don't you dare even think about it! Listen, I'm devastated about Mom and Dad I am, but if you think I'm going back there, you're sadly mistaken."

He knew it was going to be a fight to get her to agree to come home but he still wasn't prepared for it. He thought carefully about his next words, trying to think of the best way to go about convincing her.

"I know you, Rem. You won't be able to live with yourself if you don't say good-bye. Come on, it'll be good to see Bertrand and Savannah, even Bartie! You haven't met him yet. Plus you need your family around you right now."

"Maxwell, you are the only one I count as my family."

"Well then, come back for me. I need you just as much!... Please, Rem."

"I can't... I can't face everyone. I'm just now in a good place and if I have to go there and see people... It's too much, especially considering the circumstances. I-"

"I PROMISE I'LL PROTECT YOU." She had never heard such conviction and when she looked in his eyes, she knew he meant it. "I promise... You have more allies than you think, Liam and Drake, and -"

"Liam I would believe. Don't even mention Drake to me."

He'd never thought about her having a problem with Drake, but something clicked and he realized why she would. Drake was dating Kiara at the time of her birthday party and Kiara was best friends with Madeline. He'd witnessed Madeline's reign of terror and they all knew she was involved, if not the leader. "Rem, you can't possibly think Drake would-"

"Maxwell, I am NOT having that discussion with you!"

He let out a sigh and put his hands up in defeat, "Ok, ok... Well, either way, the flight leaves at 9 am... Just promise me you'll think about it. I mean REALLY think about it."

She hesitated, knowing once she said it, there was no way she could disappoint him. "I...promise."

They spent the rest of the night eating take out and catching up on all they missed since their last conversation. After showing Maxwell where he could sleep for the night, she headed back to her own room to contemplate what she was going to do. The next morning, as Maxwell walked out of his room, he smiled to himself as he saw her bags packed and waiting by the front door. 'Well this is gonna be interesting!'

Want to continue? Click below for the next chapter :

CHAPTER 3 - GOOD-BYE TO ALL THAT

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secret-rendezvous1d · 5 years

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D E C E M B E R 4 T H

REQUEST What if the missus gives Harry a gift on December 1st and it’s like an advent calendar but each day is a new position/place to have sex up until Christmas.

This is quite a short little something; I apologise.

I didn’t have too much time to write this one properly and I’ve got a few busy days coming up so I need to write a lot of other stories for Blogmas so that I can post them on a queue without needing to be here - there may a chance that a few more of the stories will be short and sweet but straight to the point in what was requested.

My mobile masterlist also unlinked all my links so I’ve got that to work on, too, so I’m all a bit rushed around. There will be a new masterlist coming that you will be able to access as soon as possible; you just need to bear with me on that.

Feedback is welcomed, as always - please let me know what you think of my pieces, send me any constructive criticism you think would help out, any ways to make my writing better, anything. It really helps me and keeps me motivated to write and we get to work as a team to make things better, for me to write and for you to read.

Enjoy! x

D e c e m b e r 1 s t 2 0 1 8.

The sweet smell of cinnamon filled the air.

And there was a distinct smell of fragrant dates and fruity currants and a thick scent of rum that had been mixed together in a bowl, baked in the oven and laid to rest underneath a thick and white-fondant marzipan, packing in a tin and ready to be devoured on Christmas Day with cream or custard. Every moment he took a deep inhale, his belly seemed to rumble from just how gorgeous their home smelt.

This time of the year was his favourite time of the year; it always had been, ever since he was a little boy and old enough to understand what the spirit of Christmas was and just who Santa Claus was to the world. He loved when the weather got colder and he could bundle up in warm jumpers and wear woollen socks around the house to keep his toes warm, without someone commenting on why the hell he was dressed so warmly; when the nights got longer and the sun set in the afternoon and gave the atmosphere a certain darkness that was dark enough for people see the Christmas lights decorating the high streets; it made him feel feel so warm and cosy and brought out the best in him; the weather made him feel happy and excited to be able to spoil his loved ones with gifts that showed his affection. And when it came to his wife, he loved that he could spoil her with all of his love and all of his affection and he could give her any length and any type of cuddle during the day and could have all the intimacy, in the world, that always seemed to spike when this time of year came around - the cold always did something to their hormones... but they weren’t complaining. Christmas meant he was surrounded by his friends and his family, Jeffrey gave him weeks off of work to be there in the cold heart of London, and he loved that he could take advantage of that.

Time off meant he could do the things he had always dreamed of doing with a partner, for his own home, to celebrate the holiday that they were planning to spend together. Christmas-tree shopping in garden centres and taking the tube to see the lights of Oxford Street whilst doing some window-shopping along the way, jumping in the car and singing Christmas songs on the drive to a 24-hour drive-thru that they had been craving and hopping on a train to head down to Surrey so they could spend time with the ones they didn’t see so much and could devour a roast with his aunt and uncle, gathering with their friends and hitting Hyde Park’s Winter Wonderland for the night... with a busy schedule all year around, it felt nice to have the end of year to recuperate.

Evie purred on his lap as he nudged the tips of his fingers into the top of her head, rough but gentle enough, as the feline idly smiled with delight. Her tiny, black and white paws pawing at the polyester of his plaid pyjama bottoms and her claws catching the threads as she pushed against his thighs to find a comfier position; her ears twitching every so often when the tinkle of bells filled the silent living room, after having echoed around the kitchen, from a radio station that YN had switched on to use as background noise whilst baking a variety festive goods. Her whiskers tickling the underside of his wrist before she curled up in the dip where his thighs met. Socked feet kicked up on the arm, slippers kicked off and paired together underneath the coffee table, and the blanket, that was previously tucked up around his body to keep him warm, was thrown over the back of the sofa.

“Surprised you’re not out in the kitchen with your mum whilst she’s got all the food out. Forever trying to nick the currants from my porridge in the mornings, little lady,” he hummed, catching Evie’s drowsy face, giving her head a blurring shake before resting her chin on the pudge of his stomach, “did you just fancy a cuddle with daddy, huh? Fancied watching the telly? Or are you here because I give you too much fuss? You’re a spoilt little darling. Spent far too long with your Nana Anne, haven’t you? Whilst mummy and daddy were off travelling the world on tour. Demanding lots of love.”

“Will you stop talking to the cat? She won’t ever respond,” he heard from the room adjacent to him, a hint of a smile in her voice, and he dragged a curled finger down the cheek of Evie’s furry face, “and, now that you’re awake and no longer milking how tired you are, will you come and help me with this? It’s difficult to take photos along the way and I can’t keep switching between mixing and kneading and taking photos. My camera is getting all mucky. You’ll have to buy me a new one for Christmas.”

“Would you be so upset if I said that Elf has just started and that I want to watch it so badly because I’ve been looking forward to December for this exact moment?” His attention drifted to the television screen that brought up a scene of Will Ferrell dressed in a bright green elf-costume, with yellow accents, and looking to be the tallest in a situation that he just he didn’t belong in amongst the other of Santa’s helpers; it had been his favourite film for as long as he could remember. One that he liked to curl up and watch when his school day had finished, eating a fresh batch of muffins that his mother had made during the morning. One that he liked to watch with his sister on Christmas Eve whilst drinking hot chocolates and chucking marshmallows at one another as the quoted the most iconic lines. One that he could recite off by heart and would drive his father insane because he just couldn’t help himself. And it was the one film that he wanted to show off to his children in the future - to sit down with his wife and his own children and eat treats that they made and drink hot chocolates, together and as a whole family, as they snuggled beneath a blanket and sat before the fire... and to know that YN, who was once the girlfriend that he had willingly shared the tiny glimpse of their possible future, loved the film almost as much as he did. “You know how much I love this film.”

“You know how much I love Elf, too,” he heard her huff, “why can’t we record it and then watch it later on? When we’re not doing anything and get to be lazy? We can order in a takeaway pizza and then drink hot chocolates with the tiny marshmallows that I have left over.”

“Can we eat whatever you’re making?”

The house had fallen silent and he only realised once he heard her slippers scuff along the floor, brushing her hands on the front of her, already dusted with flour and the odd flecks of dough, apron. A picture of an elderly lady, with thin-rimmed glasses and grey hair, who identified herself as Mrs Claus, was printed on the front with the words ‘Have Your ‘Elf A Merry Christmas’ - which had made him chuckle when he saw it in the store and had thought of how she would enjoy the pun just as much as he did - in beautiful, candy-cane coloured script that arched above her head. Her upper body leaning over the back of the sofa.

“Not all of what I’ve been,” she grinned, “there is a lot that I’ve made since you’ve been asleep and we don’t need your dicky tummy playing havoc over the next week or two-” she have the side of his belly a pat and got a side-eye from Evie who looked displeased at being woken from her sleep. “-I’ve got one box for us to share and then the rest I’m going to give to my parents when we see them this weekend, your sister and Michal when they come round tomorrow for lunch, your aunt and uncle when we go to their Christmas party next week, and your mum to take home when she comes up in a few days.” She ran a sticky hand over his forehead and brushed his fringe away from his forehead, little amounts of flour catching between the strands. “You look very cosy.”

“I would feel a lot cosier if you took a break from whatever you were doing and came and cuddled with me. It’s cold, I’m tired and me and Evie want you to come and take some time out,” he looked down at the cat, who was now purring and sending tiny vibrations through his belly, “she would agree if she was awake.”

“I’m sure she would,” his wife giggled and brought her hand from Harry’s flushed forehead to Evie’s soft fur. Stroking the patch between her two ears and digging her fingertips into her skull; her purrs sounding so loud and vibrating through her body, toe-beans flexing as her way of showing how pleased she was, “give me a few minutes. I’ll get my last batch in and cool the one that is in the oven and then I’ll be in.”

“Could you make some tea and bring that in, too?” He asked and she scoffed at his cheekiness, pinching his nose as it scrunched up and brought his eyes to a squint, “please? Mine went cold when I fell asleep.”

“Fine,” she sighed, “make some room for me.” She spun around and walked back towards the kitchen, halting abruptly in her path and turning her upper body to look over her shoulder, shooting him one last statement before she went back to her baking. “Oh, I have an important present to give you later, by the way. Don’t let me forget.”

And god, he didn’t forget.

‘An important present’ was all she needed to say to him to make sure that her instruction, on not letting it go forgotten when she didn’t remember, was handled correctly.

Okay, he may have forgotten until later in the evening... but, hey, he still remembered!

Stretched out upon the sofa, his ankles rested on YN’s thighs, crossed and with feet clad in the warmest of socks (that had been a tradition to wear, on the first of December, every year), his attention diverting between the television and the book held in his hands. Glasses on the bridge of his nose. She was busy scrolling through her phone, casually sipping on a glass of wine, his own glass sitting on the coffee table and a distinct difference from the tea he’d been sipping on throughout the afternoon. On the telly, someone had exchanged a gift to another and that was what had prompted him to remind her.

“S’this important present you need to give me?”

She gasped and almost spat her gulp of wine, holding her glass under her chin as she looked him, eyes wide and her hand in a rush to push his feet away from her. The soles hitting the floor as he swung his body around and sat up, closing his book and dog-earing the page, placing it on the shelf beneath the glass top, upon a pile of magazines and newspapers.

“Christ, yes. I forgot,” she muttered, setting her wine glass on the table and standing to her feet, leaving her phone behind on the sofa cushion as she darted in the direction of the stairs, “thanks for reminding me!”

“Couldn’t forget,” he snorted.

Through the floorboards, and the ceiling above him, he could hear her enter their bedroom and have a quick rummage around something - that he presumed to be the vanity drawers... - to find what she had hidden away from him. Skilfully, of course, because he used those vanity drawers and had yet to stumble upon anything that looked out of place. A wrapped present definitely being on that list.

She was quick back down the flight of steps, with something rattling in her hand, and he slipped his glasses back up his nose. A grin, that he tried to diminish but couldn’t because he rather excited to see what she had, sitting on his red-painted lips, teeth having turned purple around the gums from drinking the wine they’d cracked open, as his green eyes watched her every move.

“Someone spoke about this in a problem-page in a magazine I read at the hairdressers the other week. It was a suggestion on how to have better sex, and I know that we have great sex and it’s always adventurous and we get up to a lot, but I liked the idea and I thought it would be something you’d want to try out,” she smiled. A big in length, thin in width box was held in her hands, her eyes holding nerves as he took it from her, “it’s an advent calendar. Just, not the usual kind of advent calendar you would expect. No chocolate in it or anything.”

“An advent calendar that isn’t chocolate?” He gawked in disbelief, the wiggling of his fingers apprehensive as they picked at the flap and pulled it from within the cardboard, “what kind of awful advent calendar did you buy me?”

“It’s not awful!” She cried out.

“It has no chocolate. It’s awful,” he teased. Her body collapsing to the space beside him, with a heavy huff being pushed out powerfully from her lungs, with a frown on her face and her arms folded over her chest. She tried not to watch him as he opened it; it definitely wasn’t an awful present, let alone an awful advent calendar, but he was teasing her and she had to show how ‘frustrated’ that made her. But she couldn’t help but let her vision hide in the corner of her eyes, watching him discreetly as he pushed the cardboard to the floor and set the calendar on his lap. “It’s just... plain?”

“Open number one.”

His finger dragged along each closed door as he read each bold number that his tip passed over, stumbling upon number one and wasting no time in breaking the seal and opening the flap. The word ‘cowgirl’ in black cursive sitting heavy on his tongue; what on earth was this advent calendar and why did YN buy it for him, knowing he would ‘like it’? His green eyes homed a look of confusion as he looked between the white cardboard and her intrigued face, looking curiously as him, watching the cogs turn in his head as he tried to figure out what the hell she had gifted to him.

“Wha-”

“It’s a sex advent calendar,” she clarified, sitting up and leaning forward, elbows resting upon her knees. A cheeky grin on her mouth as he let out a scoff and laughed, cheeks flushing pink and looking back at the word printed on the small, square-shaped door. “You open this up, every day, and it tells us what position we should have sex in. Sometimes we can never decide and,” she reached over and squeezed his knee, “this way, it decides for us.”

“Like some strange magic-8 ball that decides people’s choices?” He snorted.

“Exactly like that, yeah,” she nodded, giggling sweetly as he shook his head from side to side with absolute disbelief, “not such an awful present now, is it, hm?”

He placed it on the coffee table and slung his arm around her shoulder, pulling her to his chest and pressing an open-mouthed kiss to her temple, groaning happily into her ear before falling to the sofa cushion and squeezing her to his body. Her legs curled up and her knees collided with his chest as she hugged him back with a tight grip.

“I take back all that I said. The best early-Christmas present, ever.”

#blogmas 2018 #harry styles imagines #harry styles prompts #harry styles blurbs #harry styles concepts #harry styles preferences #harry styles

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nerdy-nonbinary · 7 years

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Everything's Gonna be Alright

The TV was on, open to some news channel, and students were strewn about the room. Midoriya sat on the couch, discussing the pros and cons of highly defensive costumes with Kaminari and Kirishima. Ashido was on her phone, trying to ignore Mineta, who was pulling balls out of his head and tossing them at people around the room lazily. Jirou leaned against the coffee table and started flipping through channels, but stopped on another news channel when nothing interested her, until another report came in.

“Next up, an interview with Miss Mizu Kanada. Mizu Kanada will be the first transgender woman to play a leading role in a film by a major film company. Her quirk, Self-Hydro, allows her to manipulate the water contents of her body, making her an ideal actress for emotionally charged dramas. The film, One Small Step, is set to air on Ja-

“Agh, turn it off, will you, Jirou? I don’t wanna hear a story about some tranny.”

The room froze, and everyone slowly turned to look at Mineta. Even Todoroki couldn’t have made the room colder.

“Wh-what did you say?” Midoriya choked out the words, and Jirou could sense his anxiety rising.

“I said, I don’t wanna hear a story about some tranny,” Mineta repeated. “Those people are messed up in the head, thinking they're some gender they aren’t.”

“What the hell, dude?! You can’t go saying that about people,” Kirishima stood up defensively, and Jirou soon did too, though she remained silent. She was fuming, but her throat had closed up from rage.

“Calm down, Kirishima, I’m saying the truth,” Mineta replied, too oblivious to realize no one was taking his side. “Men like that are just trying trick guys like us, you know? Who would want to go on a date only realize that she’s actually a he?”

The room exploded, people shouting at Mineta for his idiocy. The carpet beneath Todoroki’s feet began to smolder, and Dark Shadow had grown bigger than Jirou had ever seen it in the light. The couch was slowly dissolving under Ashido’s tight grip, and Yaoyorozu was already giving a lecture on the western construct of the gender binary, with Iida right behind her, nodding and corroborating her every word. But despite the loud bombardment of criticism around her, the only person Jirou had her eyes on was Midoriya. He was curled up in the corner of the couch, arms tightly wrapped around himself, as though trying to hide inside of himself. Tears streamed silently down his face, and Jirou could tell this wasn’t the first time he’d been in this position. Jirou had an idea growing in her head from his reaction, but refused to let her guesses cloud her judgement of him, whether she was right or not. She glanced at Kirishima, who had also been watching him, and they nodded as they slowly approached him.

Jirou kneeled down to his level, and in a soft voice said “Hey, Midoriya, wanna come to my room and get away from this?”

The boy gulped and nodded, slowly unwrapping himself from his self-imposed prison. Kirishima took his hand and pulled him to his feet, shielding him from the ferocious crowd as Jirou led the way to her room.

Jirou closed the door softly behind and let out a quiet sigh, thankful to be away from the noise, though she was glad it was there as well. Despite her quirk and penchant for hard rock, she wasn’t one for noisy crowds. But she’d put up with this for hours if it meant Mineta got what was coming to him. Kirishima led Midoriya, still shaking with his arms wrapped tight around himself, to her bed as he sat beside him, and Jirou turned her chair from her desk and faced the two. Midoriya’s breaths were shuddery, and she could here him muttering to himself, trying to control his breathing. Though he was still shaking a bit, Midoriya gave them a wavering smile.

“Th-thanks a lot, g-guys. I really needed to g-get out of there.”

“It’s no problem, bro. Anything to help out a friend,” Kirishima gave him his signature shark-tooth grin, and his smile grew just a bit wider. But Jirou was still concerned. Midoriya’s breathing still hadn’t returned to normal, and his hands seemed to be grabbing at something on his chest.

“Midoriya, is we can do to help right now? Play music, find a teacher…”

“Actually, could you get me something to drink?”

“Yeah, sure,” Jirou hopped to her feet and went to her mini fridge. “Any requests?”

“No, anything is fine,” He gave her a smile, but she knew there was something else he wanted to say. She grabbed a seltzer and handed it to him, but he didn’t open it right away. Instead, he stared at his hands, going numb from the cold can. “Actually, guys, there’s something I wanna tell you.”

Midoriya took a deep breath, and said, “I’m… trans. I’m a trans guy.”

Kirishima grabbed his shoulder, surprising Midoriya. “Thanks for telling us, man. I’m glad you trust us.”

Jirou sent him her warmest smile, one she saved for moments like these. “Same here. And know we’ve always got your back.”

Midoriya stared in wide-eyed astonishment, as if he wasn’t expecting such calm understanding and support. Then began to cry. “Thank you guys so much! I was so scared to come out to the class, I was worried Kacchan would out me before I was ready or no one would support me or they’d make me stay in a girl’s dorm or I’d ha-”

“Woah, calm down there, buddy,” Kirishima patted him lightly on the back. “Nothing to worry about. We won’t say a word till you’re ready.”

How sweet, thought Jirou, but she began to remember what brought them to her room in the first place. “Midoriya, is there anything you want us to do about Mineta? I don’t wanna out you to a teacher or anything, but someone’s gotta hear about this.”

Midoriya’s smile didn’t fade at her question, and Jirou was glad he was calm enough to take the next step. “I… think I’ll tell Mr. Aizawa. Or All Might. They both know. I don’t know what’s gonna happen to Mineta, but honestly… knowing he thinks that about me, I don’t feel safe living a few doors down from someone who thinks I’m in the wrong dorm.”

“Do you want me to get one of them now?”

“No, I’ll find one of them later. Thank you. But,” he turned to Kirishima. “There is something I want to ask. You were the first person to stand up, or say something. Even when you weren’t sure if someone was gonna agree with Mineta, even when you didn’t know there was a trans person in the room, you still stood up for what was right. Why?”

Kirishima blushed, humbled by the compliment. “Ah, well… I gotta little sister who’s trans, see? And she’s like, the most important person in my life. There are things that she’s done to live as herself that I could probably never do. So, when he said that, it was like a punch to the gut. My sister is a real girl, no matter what fuckwads like Mineta say.” Then, as an afterthought, “Excuse my language.”

Midoriya nodded, happy to hear he had experience as an ally. At least he didn’t have to worry about him asking invasive questions. And seeing as Jirou was a rather private person herself, he didn’t feel like he would have to worry about her either. Bakugou already knew, of course, and he was forever thankful it was the one thing about him Bakugou never beat him up over. Of course, he knew Mineta would never let him see the end of it if he ever found out, which Midoriya did not plan on letting happen. That left 15 classmates to worry about.

Jirou could see the fear hadn’t completely left his face yet, lines of worry creasing around his eyes. She desperately reached for something to say, but she knew this was new to her, and she didn’t want to mess up. “Uh, Midoriya… I’ve never really had experience with this kinda thing, but, I just wanna know that I will always back you up on this, no matter what you want to do. I’m sure Kirishima agrees.” He nodded vigorously in agreement. “If anyone in our class gives you a problem, just let us know, and we can deal with them. Even Bakugou. And especially Mineta.” She punched her palm for emphasis.

Midoriya shook his head with a small chuckle. “Thank you, Jirou, but don’t don’t think that will be necessary. I hope it won’t be. Everyone was so pissed at Mineta, at least I know they don’t hate trans people. I just hope they don’t mind their classmate being trans. But let’s forget this for now. I’ll let them deal with Mineta out there. For now, I’m just happy to know I have some friends on my side. Could I… do you guys mind if I ask for a hug?” He asked shyly.

Kirishima’s eyes sparkled like he’d gotten his hero license. He swung his arm around Midoriya, pulling him close, and grabbed Jirou’s sleeve and dragged her to her bed, squeezing the pair with all his might. “I’m always here if you need a hug Midoriya!” Was he… crying?

Jirou was so baffled by her classmate’s tears, she couldn’t help but laugh. “So much for your ‘manly’ image, eh, Kirishima?”

“Hey, what’s unmanly about crying? Midoriya cries all the time, and he’s the manliest guy I know!”

Midoriya was so stunned by the comment, he began to laugh through the joyful tears springing from his eyes, and soon, the three friends were laughing their heads off, not a care in the world. And Midoriya knew, somehow, everything would be okay.

#boku no hero academia #bnha #my hero academia #mha #trans bnha #trans character #trans Izuku Midoriya #trans guy Izuku Midoriya #slurs tw #t slur tw #transphobia tw #midoriya izuku #kirishima eijirou #jirou kyouka #my own post

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awkwardplant · 6 years

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•Title: Grow Towards Light, chapter 1

•Genre: Young Adult/Fantasy (fantasy is later on)

•Summary: When spoiled Albin Lofgren is sent to Italy for his bad behavior, he is cursed by faeries and gains magical powers that he can’t use properly. (This chapter shows what he did to get sent to Italy)

•Words: 2629

•Work: https://docs.google.com/document/d/1Og0Av9Qcc6YfcloU0hn9EdoyFwogmFtKd5WiE5vpZAk/edit?usp=sharing

•Note: this is my first draft, and I haven't written in a while

I’ll put the chapter under a cut in case the link doesn’t work. Please leave some constructive criticism! I’d love to know what you think :)

Grow Towards Light (Chapter 1)

“Hi Youtube, my name is Albin and- Wait, no, no. I can’t start with an introduction. I should play at the beginning, right?” Setting down his violin on a nearby chair, he walked over to the camera. He stopped the video, then started the recording again.

Albin returned to his previous position. He nestled onto the chinboard, hands on the bow and fingerboard, and began to play. Was his timing off? Did it sound right? His mind ran rampant with worries. So much so, that Albin came back to reality with a jolt upon hearing a wince-worthy shriek of notes.

He stared into space and groaned like one does upon waking up far too early. Then played a random selection of notes in quick succession and stopped. Again, he restarted the video.

Albin sighed as he returned to his position. “The world hates me but I hate it more.”

Sometimes you need to power through life with sheer spite. That’s the advice most people would take. For Albin, it was every second of every day. Because teenagers have that much bitterness. And for good reason! He’d been awake since 9am (what an early time) during summer vacation. And now he was attempting to upload another hit single to his Youtube account. If by “hit single” you meant a song with less than 20 views, like his many other videos. One day he’d make it big! But until then…

Beginning his 470th recording of the day, he heard it sounded better than the past attempts. It gave him the confidence to put his soul into the music, sway as he played, and ignore the worries that swept his mind. A warm glow of happiness began to bloom in his chest-

“Albin! You’ve been playing all morning. Dad says it’s MY turn to use the music room!” His older sister barged into the room and he balked. Because sure, that interruption at a crucial time was fine. Totally fine!

Grinding his teeth, Albin once again walked over to the camera and turned it off for the final time that day. Another day of wasted practice. He made sure to glare at his sister. But she was too busy destroying his eardrums with terrible saxophone music. Well, he always thought it was terrible, but her music awards… possibly said otherwise.

“Hm.” Alice paused and tilted her head in thought. “You know, I’d rather play my flute today. Is it here? Have the housekeepers unpacked it yet?”

“I don’t know..? I don’t play flute so generally I don’t keep an eye out for it when I go in here. To practice my violin.” Albin raised his instrument and eyebrow. “Sorry your search has turned out fluteless.”

Alice and the rest of his siblings had recently moved back into the mansion. There were still plenty of boxes that needed unpacked. Alice left the room. (Terrible audience, a waste of a pun.) Albin couldn’t stay in there any longer, so he returned his violin to the instrument shelf and went to the garden.

He passed under the arch of purple clematis and tiptoed over the river stepping stones. When he reached the tiered fountain he noticed: someone was in his gazebo. They were on the bench and reading a book, wearing close-fitting dungarees and a white t-shirt. A gardener? They were on duty and they had the nerve to laze around?! Albin knew his dad didn’t pay his workers cheap, he was a nice guy like that. He was going to confront the stranger! But... his mum called his name from the mansion.

That person could wait to get their scolding until Albin had a full stomach of food. But now was the time he’d been dreading: sitting down at the table for a family dinner.

Albin was not a fan of the recent increase of people at the dinner table. 8 people in total. 5 siblings was far too many. The good thing though, was that Lax med Västerbottensost was on the menu. The chef served the dish with a lemon slice each time. He remembered when it was just him and his dad, and he would eat the lemon with a straight face to shock his dad. He bit into a forkful of salmon, savouring the cheese sauce drizzled on the fish.

Silver cutlery clinked and the others around him made conversation. Albin noticed that his older brother was showing his dad a video on his phone. Tch. What happened to “no phones at the dinner-table”? Worst of all, his dad was… smiling. Quite a lot. He focused his gaze on the table’s decorative topiary tree. In the metal vase his reflection frowned back at him.

“And coach says if we make it to the finals, we’ll get to go to America!” Noel beamed.

His dad clapped Noel on the back and gulped down a spoonful of peas. “That’s great, son! What a super match, so intense. You’ve got to teach me some of those tricks. What’s the one where you kick the ball behind you and get it into the goal?”

“Oh, the Scissor Kick! You’ve got good taste Pa.” they laughed together.

Pa. More like: Pathetic. What a suck up! He couldn’t believe his dad was so easy to impress. Football? Anyone could kick a ball. Albin didn’t know what the Scissor Kick was, but it most likely looked cooler than it actually was. Sneaking a glance at his phone, Albin remembered he hadn’t been able to get a good recording of his violin that day. Damn Alice and her saxophone/flute nonsense.

Now all he had to do was sit there and eat. That was no fun. He could show his dad one of his older videos, one he hadn’t seen... But his dad was listening to Juni talk about some science fair she was going to attend.

Albin shrugged, pulling his iphone out anyway and laid it on the table so it played his song. It was a cover of his favourite TV series’ intro song. You couldn’t tell it was an anime song since it was being played in violin. (And everyone knows that a violin lead makes any song sound socially acceptable.) He continued eating as the song played, glancing at his busy dad every few moments.

But the song played the entire way through, and his dad hadn’t even looked at him, let alone spoken to him about his music. He turned the volume up and skipped to another song.

“Albin,” he perked up at the sound of his name. “What have I said about phones at the table?”

Albin’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “But Noel was showing you something on his phone-”

“Don’t give me cheek young man.” His dad chided.

He rolled his eyes. “Fine, fine.”

Turning the music off and slumping in his seat, he put his phone back into his pocket. Half a salmon left on his plate. And two spoonfuls of peas. Eh. Albin wasn’t hungry anymore. He excused himself from the table and slipped outside. Telling off that do-nothing gardener would cheer him up.

The stranger was exactly where Albin had left them. One leg off the bench and swinging it, as if they were in a hammock on a Hawaiian beach. Albin marched closer with a speech about hard work on his tongue. The person slapped their book shut and turned to face Albin: it was a boy who looked a little older than him.

“The youngest one from the mansion, huh?”

His surprise at the voice had Albin stop in his tracks. He slowed to a walk and peered at the boy. The dungarees he was wearing weren’t even dirty, they were a spotless blue denim. This guy hadn’t been working at all today!

“And you’re the lazy gardener, I suppose?” he challenged.

“What? No.” The boy turned away, reopening his book. Black, wavy hair rustled as he moved. “I don’t work here, my mum does. She couldn’t find me a decent ‘babysitter’ so I have to hang out here this summer.”

“You dress like a gardener though.”

The boy smoothed down his front and clicked his tongue. “That’s just my aesthetic. Bohemian, hipster, or something like that.”

“Sure, okay. Anyway. How did you know who I am if you don’t work here? Did your mum tell you about me?” Albin asked.

He felt like he was falling behind with every word the boy said; it was a race to see who was the coolest. Albin didn’t have an aesthetic. A denim hoodie and tan-brown skinny jeans didn’t fit into an aesthetic. His style was preppy or casual at best; and that was terrible.

“Sure did. A right goody two shoes with all the staff, even if you do have an attitude with ‘lazy’ people. You baked them all cookies last Christmas and gave a dreidel to someone, or something.” He clicked his tongue again.

Albin shrugged, not accepting that description of himself. “It’s an act. I can be rebellious when I want to. Like a few minutes ago at dinner, I had my phone out at the table. There’s a no phone rule.”

The boy walked out of the gazebo and stood in front of Albin. His blue eyes bore into Albin’s brown ones. “My name’s Elias. Been kicked out of every high-school in the county. I can teach you how to actually be rebellious. You in?”

Albin glanced away for a few moments. Could he really teach Albin how to be rebellious? Elias sure did seem the type to know. Albin wanted to learn: what was more rebellious than disobeying your dad? So he nodded.

Elias smirked and his eyes gleamed as though ice had glazed them. Albin knew that he had already lost whatever race he’d been imagining.

A few minutes later, Elias was opening the door to the music room and gesturing for Albin to go in. The dim light from beyond the two windows was the only light-source. Guitars lined the walls and the grand piano stood at the far end of the room like a silhouette. Despite everything he could see, the room looked empty.

Albin continued the conversation from their walk to the mansion. “It was so much better when it was me and my dad, you know?”

“Can’t relate.” Elias mumbled.

Then he picked up Alice’s flute, taking it out from its case. “This is your sister’s right? The one you said kicked you out the music room?” Albin nodded.

Elias handed him the instrument. “Break it.” He said.

“... What? Are you insane?”

“Nope, I've seen several psychologists. I’m mentally well, thank you for asking.”

Albin shook his head, running fingers through his hair, and he tripped over his own feet into a music stand. “You can’t be serious.” The stand rattled as he steadied it.

“Trust me. You’ll feel so much better. You won’t get caught, promise. Besides, you’re rich enough to replace a little flute. Right?” He circled around Albin and rested his hands on Albin’s shoulders.

“All those years with your dad, forgotten by him like it was nothing.” Elias whispered down into his ear. “Brothers and sisters, walking around here like they’ve always lived here. Treating you like a nuisance. A mother you can't stand for bringing all this chaos into your life, for turning you into a ghost in your own home.” He stood at full height. “Break the flute.”

The flute seemed to buzz under his fingertips, he was crushing it in his hands. The blood wasn’t reaching his fingers. His heart echoed in his chest.

“What if,” he breathed, “What if they hear it?”

“That’s why-” Elias’s hands left a swish of cold air on his shoulders as he left his side, searching the room. “We use a cushion in these kinds of situations.”

He began to walk, not quite aware of what he was doing. “The chair, at the back of the room. It’s cushioned.”

“Go then.”

“But-”

“Stop making excuses. That’s how you prevent yourself from living.” Elias clicked his tongue. “I’m only telling you to do this because there’s a lot of built up emotions in you. Gotta get them out somehow. And what better way is there than this to also get revenge on your family?”

Albin’s eyes widened.That’s what this is? Revenge... The word repeated itself, cascading down the walls of his mind. He lifted the flute up into the air, no backing out now, it hurtled towards the chair and crashed down with a thwack-

It didn’t break.

“Well, it’s dented, but we want it broken beyond repair.” Elias grabbed the flute from him. “Good try though.” he brought his knee to the instrument and snapped it in half. Just like that.

Then he began to tear off the valves, one by one. Albin could only watch in dull shock. His mind was still surging with the word revenge and a million other thoughts. What would Alice’s reaction be? How would everyone find out? What if someone had heard them? Albin glanced around, no-one but Elias was in the dark music room with him.

“There, that’s it done.” Elias dropped the instrument onto the floor. “Now let’s get out of here, through the window.”

“B-but this is the second floor!”

“I’ll catch you.”

Albin stumbled after Elias as he walked towards the window. “Are you serious?!”

“Always serious, kiddo.” Elias said. “Make sure you roll or you’ll break an arm!”

The next day, everyone in the mansion knew of Alice’s broken flute. She’d been sobbing and wailing through the corridors for hours on end. She refused her dad’s -Albin’s dad- offer to shop for a new flute. She missed every meal. When the butler was bringing her dinner to her room, Albin asked if he could do it instead. He wandered from the kitchen to her room, knocking on her door. His arm twinged in pain from the previous night’s fall.

“Alice? It’s Albin, do you mind if I come in?” He opened the door when there was no reply.

Alice was laying face down on her bed. She looked so small, in comparison to the white walls and high ceiling that made the room feel endless. Everything was displayed on shelves or tucked away in drawers. You could say it was Instagram ready. A small sob teared through her again, greeting him in the saddest way possible. He set her plate of comfort food on the nightstand.

“My instrument… they broke my instrument!” Alice cried into her pillow. “She was my lucky charm, i-if I had her I would always win my competitions...” She sat up to face him, glittering streaks of tears running down reddened cheeks. “There’s no flute that could replace her!”

“...Her?”

“My flute! Georgia!” Albin didn’t understand the point in naming an object, but he didn’t say this out loud. “It’s not fair. Who the hell would do this to her?!”

“I don’t know… I’m so sorry this happened.” Albin coughed away the lump growing in his throat.

Alice began to talk about the awards she’d won, told him stories about the competitions she’d been to. She hugged him, trying to pull him in as tight as possible. But he tapped her back and kindly pushed her away by the shoulders. Yeah, he wasn’t a fan of hugging people he barely knew. Alice returned to hugging her pillow.

But the best part: she had no idea it had been him and Elias. And she’d wallow in sadness long enough for him to catch up, and win some awards of his own!

That night he found Elias in Albin’s gazebo once again. He ran towards him in exhilaration, and shone a troublesome smile when Elias waved at him.

“What’s next?” Albin asked.

#writing #oc #original character #original fiction #chapter #how many buzzwords can i get in the tags...#please leave a comment i just want this story to be loved #plantpost

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fandomrewrites · 3 years

Text

Season 3a; Episode 5: Frayed

Hello all! I feel like I’m not very good at writing action scenes so if anyone has some tips let me know, as always constructive criticism is appreciated! I hope you enjoyed this chapter and let me know if you wanted to get added to the taglist!

Season 3a; Episode 5: Frayed

Pairings: Scott McCall x Twin Sister, Lydia Martin x Best Friend, Isaac Lahey x Reader

Warnings: Mention of death, mention of sex

Word Count: 3,022

Season 3a masterlist

Slowly starting to wake up I shove my face into the fabric that I'm gripping. I feel movement under my head and I hear a paper crumple. I shift my body once more, trying to get comfortable again. Suddenly my brain registers that my head is not on a pillow. My eyes snap open and I raise my head to figure out who I'm laying on.

My wide eyes meet Stiles. "Morning." He awkwardly says, face flushing red.

I pull my lips into an awkward smile, "Sorry." I push myself further away, moving papers so I don't crumple them anymore then they already are.

"It's fine. I don't mind being your pillow." Stiles replies, also sitting up.

I lightly laugh, "Thanks." He smiles back at me. We both quickly turned away, once more looking at all the papers we were looking through last night. "So, I don't think we really have much to talk to Lydia about just yet. I don't want to tell her something that's not true and get her hopes up."

Stiles nods, "I'll let you decide what and when you want to tell her. She's your best friend after all." We both start picking up the papers and he hands them to me so I can take them home and look through them more by myself. "I'll take you home. Let me know if you need anymore help."

"I will. Thanks again for this."

*_*_*_*_*_*

Once I got home I walked into the kitchen to see my mom drinking coffee. "Good morning. Where were you last night?"

"Sorry, Stiles was helping me with something. We accidently fell asleep."

My mom nods, "Next time, let me know where you are." I nod in response and start heading up the stairs. "(Y/N), wait. I need to talk to you about something."

I turn around and head back into the kitchen, "What? Did something happen?"

She holds up a finger, telling me to wait, "ISAAC! Can you come here?"

I knit my eyebrows together, "Isaac's here?"

Just as the words leave my mouth Isaac runs down the stairs. "Sit please. Both of you."

We both sit down as I take a glance at Isaac, confused about what he's doing here and why my mom wants to talk to us. "Alright. So I already said that you can live with us, Isaac."

"Wait what? Why? Weren't you living with Derek?" I ask.

"He kicked me out because Cora is there now." Isaac replies, looking at me briefly then turning back towards my mom.

I turn back towards my mom too so she can continue talking, "I'm happy to help and to have you here. But I know that you two have a romantic relationship going on-"

"Oh God mom. Please don't tell me you're trying to have a sex talk with us." I interrupt.

"I want you two to be safe." Isaac starts blushing and I shove my head into my hands as she continues talking, "No having sex when your brother and I here. Remember to wear a condom. You're on birth control (Y/N)."

"Mom. Mom. Please stop okay?" She stops talking but looks at us with a stern look. "We know all of this already. Can we please go? You're just making us uncomfortable."

"If you're uncomfortable talking about sex then you shouldn't be having it."

"Oh my God. I am not uncomfortable talking about it but it is a little awkward with my mom talking about it to me and the guy I'm having sex with."

My mom looks between the two of us then sighs, "Fine go."

"Thank you." I quickly stand up and grab Isaac's hand, pulling him with me to my room.

"I am so sorry about that."

Isaac gently smiles, "It's fine. She's your mom, I'm not surprised that she was concerned about our relationship."

I smiled back at him then pulled his head down to give him a kiss.

*_*_*_*_*_*

A few nights later Scott, Isaac and I head to meet with the Alpha pack. Scott thinks if he talks with Deucalion he can make a deal. But we need to do it fast because Derek wants to go after them and kill them.

We arrive at the abandoned mall where Scott arranged the meeting. "We're going to talk to him. Try to reason with him. That's it." Scott says as we start heading inside.

Once inside we stand together, Isaac and I slightly behind Scott. "You didn't come alone." Deucalion speaks.

"Yeah... This is Isaac and (Y/N)."

"I'm not talking about Isaac and (Y/N)."

A crunch of boots causes the three of us to turn our heads. Derek, Boyd and Cora step out of the dark. "You knew I'd do this." Scott says to Derek.

"I need your help, Scott." Derek replies.

Derek steps closer, shifting into a werewolf, Cora and Boyd following his lead. "Derek, don't. You can't do this and no one gets hurt. If someone dies-"

Derek cuts off Scott's rant, "Him. Just him."

"Just me? Now how's a blind man find his way into a place like this all on his own?" Deucalion asks. We all turn as we hear the other Alpha's join the room.

"This isn't good." I mumble, sharing a worried look with Scott and Isaac.

Before we can think much more about what is going to happen, Derek rushes for Deucalion. Kali blocks his attack though, Ennis going for Boyd and Cora at the same time.

Not being given much of a choice, Isaac, Scott and I all transform too. We start attacking the twins, who are now in their combined Alpha form. Out of the corner of my eye I see Cora struggle against Kali. Moving like a blur, I join the fight, trying to help Cora in any way.

I take Kali by surprise and get a couple of good hits and scratches in before she gains the upper hand. She manages to get Cora on the ground, clawed foot held over her neck. Kali's hand is wrapped tightly around my throat. My feet struggle to touch the ground and hands trying to pry her off.

I briefly look around to see everyone else in a similar position. Everyone else except for Boyd who is struggling to get up but doesn't have an Alpha holding him down and Derek, who looks around helplessly.

"Kill him. The others can go." Deucalion says to Derek. "You're beaten. Do it, Derek. Take the first step."

"Are we serious with this? Look at him. He's an Alpha? To what? A couple of useless teenagers?" Kali asks. "Let him rise to the occasion then. What'll it be, Derek? Pack or family?" She pushes her foot down onto Cora's neck. I start struggling once more but stop when she applies more pressure to my throat.

In the quiet that follows the question, I make out the sound of a bow. I immediately close my eyes, knowing what is about to happen. A flashbolt shoots through the building, landing near the twins. Kali loosens her grip on me. I quickly use her surprise to slip free from her hold.

"Your eyes. Cover your eyes!" Deucalion yells. Kali covers her eyes but still doesn't back away from Cora. Seeing that she's not paying attention to me anymore I forcefully shove her away, allowing Cora the chance to get back up.

"Run!" Scott yells. I grab Cora's hand forcing her to run away with me.

She tries to argue though, "Derek-"

"He'll be fine. We need to get out of here while we have the chance." I interrupt. Seeing the look on her face I continue, "I'm the fastest out of everyone, I'll go back and make sure but you need to leave." She hesitantly nods.

I let go of her hand, lightly shoving her towards the exit and turning around to make sure everyone made it out. As I head back I see Isaac helping Boyd, "Go quick! I need to make sure Scott and Derek are alright."

Isaac nods as they continue to head out of the building. I make it back into the room to see Scott rushing forward, "Derek-" He calls.

I rush towards him and tug on his shoulder. I look down to see Ennis and Derek not moving, "Come on, Scott! We need to go."

Once we reconvene, Cora looks at me, "Where's Derek?"

I shake my head, "I'm sorry. There was nothing we could do."

Cora's gaze turned into a hard glare, "You told me he was fine! You're supposed to have a danger sense." She shoved me back as she said the words.

"Hey, hey!" I grabbed her wrists to stop her from pushing me, "I'm sorry, okay? I'm still learning and I couldn't tell. If I could I wouldn't have said he would be fine."

Both of our eyes glisten with unshed tears, both of us refusing to cry. Finally, she tears herself away from me and walks away without another word.

“Cora!” I call after her, concerned for the girl and feeling guilty that I gave her false hope.

“Leave her, she’ll be alright.” Isaac whispers, laying a gentle hand on my shoulder.

*_*_*_*_*_*

The next day the boys had to go on a cross country meet. Allison and I asked Lydia to come with us to follow the bus, not wanting to let Scott out of our sight.

"You think I'm getting too close? I'm getting too close, aren't I?" Allison's voice breaks me from my thoughts.

"That depends. Are you just following the bus? Or are you planning to mount it at some point?" I snort at Lydia's words.

"So I should back off?" Allison questions, looking at me through the rearview mirror.

"That also depends. Do you mean the bus? Or the ex-boyfriend you're currently stalking?" Lydia asks the hunter.

Not giving Allison the chance to answer I speak up, "Neither of us want to let Scott out of our sight. Not after what happened. Plus something doesn't feel right. Scott's hurt. I don't think he's healed yet."

"Do you know or is it just a feeling?" Allison asks.

"I guess just a feeling. But Deaton told me that I can connect with people in the pack. I mean usually it's in my wolf form but with Scott I can tell even when I'm human. I think it's because we're twins."

The conversation stops for about an hour, each of us focused on our own thoughts. "So was not letting them out of your sight literal? Or more like a general rule?" Lydia asks, breaking the silence.

"Literal. Why?" Allison questions, glancing at the strawberry blonde.

"You're under a quarter of a tank."

Allison groans as I answer, "Well that's not good considering the bus holds a lot more gas then the car."

"What if we stop?" Allison asks.

"With the bus going at a steady sixty-five including time to pump gas? It would probably take about half an hour to catch up going at least a hundred and ten." Lydia replies.

"I love it when you show how smart you are. It's a major turn on." I say, smirking at my best friend.

She turns in her seat to smirk back at me, "Maybe I should start showing off my smarts more."

"Only if you wanna end up making out with me. I don't know if I'll be able to hold myself back much longer."

"Girls. Focus." Allison cuts in.

"Sorry." Lydia and I say in unison.

Lydia continues, "Is it that big a deal if we lose them for a little while? We know where they're headed."

"You didn't see it happen." Allison responds.

"I know who started it." Lydia says.

"Is that what Aiden told you?" Allison asks as I throw Lydia a questioning glance.

"Aiden? Hold on a second. Is that why you wanted me on this little road trip? Are you keeping an eye on them and me?"

"Well, we are wondering if anything is going on between you two." I say.

"Nothing is going on between us." Lydia reaches into her purse and takes out her lipstick. She smiles as she applies it to her lips. Allison and I can both tell that she's lying. "What?" Lydia asks, noticing our looks.

Before either of us can reply, Allison slams on the brakes. Lydia and I turn to look out the window and see why Allison suddenly stopped to see that we are stuck in traffic.

I quickly pull my phone out of my pocket as it starts ringing, "Hey Stiles. Lyds, Allison and I are just about to go to the movies-"

Stiles interrupts, "I know you're right behind us. Put me on speaker."

I sigh but put him on speaker, "Alright. What's up?"

"Scott's still hurt."

"I knew it. Why didn't he tell us?"

"You knew?"

"Yeah, I sensed it. How bad is it?"

"Bad. I think it's getting worse. The blood's turning black."

"Well, what's wrong with him?" Lydia questions.

"Do I have a Ph.D. in Lycanthropy? How should I know?"

"We have to get him off the bus." Allison pipes up.

"And take him where? A hospital?" Lydia asks.

"Yeah. If he's not healing." I say.

"Stiles, there's a rest area coming up in a mile. Tell Coach to pull over." Allison says.

"I've been trying." Stiles replies.

"Reason with him."

"Reason? Have you met the guy?"

"Stiles, you have to do something. You're smart. You'll figure it out." I answer. I hang up the phone as we wait to see if the bus pulls into the rest area.

A few minutes later we follow the bus into the rest area. Lydia, Allison and I quickly make our way to Scott and Stiles. Stiles has one of Scott's arms around his shoulder and I grab his other.

We rush Scott into the men's room and gently lower him to the ground. Allison kneels next to him and lifts his shirt. His torso is bloody, the wounds not healing. "Oh God. Why didn't you tell us?" Allison asks.

"Sorry." Scott replies with a weak smile.

"Okay, just give us a second."

Lydia, Stiles, and I follow Allison as she steps away from Scott. "This shouldn't be happening. I've seen him heal from worse than this before."

"Isaac, Boyd, and I are all healed. He should be too." I reply.

"You know, it could be psychological." Lydia says.

"You mean he's not letting himself heal?"

"Yeah, it's all in his head."

Stiles starts talking, "Because of Derek. He's not letting himself heal because Derek died."

"Then what do we do?" Allison asks.

Lydia opens her purse and pulls out a travel size sewing kit, "Stitch him up." We all look at her with raised eyebrows, "I'm serious. Maybe all he has to do is believe it's healing."

We all look at Scott, who is now barely conscious. "We need to try." I say.

Allison takes the sewing kit and starts preparing the needle and thread, "He's going to need another shirt. Where's his bag?"

"I'll get it. I can't deal with needles anyway." Stiles replies. "You know what you're doing, right?"

Allison nods, "My father taught me."

"How fast can you, I mean what if the bus, the bus could leave."

"Make sure it doesn't."

"Come on." Lydia says, pulling both me and Stiles out of the bathroom with her.

We run out to the bus so Stiles can get Scott's bag. About a minute later Coach starts yelling at all the students, "Let's go! Back on the bus."

I grab the shirt from Stiles hands, "You two distract him. Don't let the bus leave."

I rush into the bathroom just as Scott is looking down at his now closed wound. "Hey, can you stand?" I ask, bringing the attention to me.

Scott nods and Allison helps him up. "Put this on. The bus is about to leave."

He shakily slips the shirt on, then Allison and I each grab one of his arms to help him walk towards the bus. Lydia darts toward us when she spots us, "Is he okay? Are you okay?"

Scott nods, "Where's Stiles?"

"Trying to stall Coach." Lydia turns to Allison, "We still have no gas."

"I'm not leaving him." Allison and I say in unison.

Lydia briefly glances between us, "Then we have to leave the car."

"Good idea." Allison replies.

"What? That wasn't an actual suggestion." Allison and I don't wait for her to continue as we start to head to the bus once more.

Outside the bus the students crowd around two people who are fighting. Stiles rushes over to us, "He went after him- I told him what was happening with you and he just went after him-"

"Boyd?" Scott asks, cutting Stiles off.

"No-"

Once more Stiles is interrupted by a voice, "Isaac! Isaac back off!" Coach yells.

I quickly step in front of Scott, "Stay!" I say to Scott, who tries to rush after me. I then moved towards Isaac, "Isaac!" I scold bringing his, and everyone else's attention to me, "Enough!"

Isaac looks at me then over my shoulder to see Scott, now healed. He immediately lowers his fist and backs off.

Now on the bus Lydia and I sit together talking to Stiles who sits in the seat next to us. "It's the sacrifices. Everything has to do with them and someone who thinks they're some kind of Dark Druid." Stiles whispers to us.

"Or actually is a Dark Druid." Lydia replies.

Stiles nods, "A Darach."

"You know, some ancient cultures sacrificed people in preparation for battle."

"Oh that's great. Because a battle is just what we need." I say, rolling my eyes.

They both ignore me as Stiles continues, "So Alpha werewolves against a Dark Druid. What nightmare parallel dimension did we get sucked into?"

I snort then add, "It would be nice if the Darach and Alpha pack finished each other off."

"Nothing ever happens like that though, (Y/N/N)."

"A girl can dream."

~~~~~~~~~~

@crazy-fan-101 @rogershoe

#teen wolf #teen wolf imagine #teen wolf rewrite #series rewrite #lydia martin imagine #sister mccall imagine #isaac lahey imagine

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groundswallowmewholw · 4 years

Text

His Name Is... Pt 3

For part one click ♥here♥

For part two click ♥here♥

And if you have any feedback (positive or constructive criticism - not trolling lol) or you want to ask me a question (I’ll go by M. for internet purposes...) leave me an ask!

Part three: Chicken Soup for the Loner Soul

Auntie Sara’s new house was massive. She lived in a rural area outside of a larger city. There was this beautiful snowy garden and field behind it in full view from the living room window. I’d overheard my Mom speaking to her over the phone once; it seemed like Sara and Ellis were eventually going to get married and have children, but they wanted to expand their architecture and interior design business a little further first. It seemed like the perfect place for a family. It all looked very idyllic, especially with Christmas decorations everywhere. She gave us a tour, showing Jonas and I our own private rooms in the basement. The third of the basement guest rooms would host one of the guests from Ellis’ side of the family. My parents were given a room on the upper level.

“Where’s Ellis?” my Dad asked, probably wanting to catch up and have some beers with him.

“He’s just finishing up a Sunday brunch with a client, and then he’s picking up his nephew from the airport, west of the city,” my Aunt answered.

I felt butterflies in my stomach. That nephew was Ambrose.

“I take it Beautiful Homes inc. is doing well?”

“Yes. Pretty soon, we’ll have to hire some more help just to keep up. Caleb, maybe you’d like to intern for us one summer? We could surely use your artistic talents on our team.”

The compliment embarrassed me. “That sounds great,” I said, feeling self-consciously because I was probably smiling too much.

My mom called for me from the kitchen. “Caleb, Honey, you’ve barely had a bite all day, you need to eat something!” She had a point. I’d pretty much forgotten to eat all day. “I’m going to make you some chicken and rice soup.”

“Okay…” I said. Not that I’d have much of a choice.

“How’s your stomach feeling?”

“Better,” I said.

“Are you still having diarrhea?’

“Mom...” I quietly pleaded. It was a valid question because of my situation, but the word made me cringe.

“Come here” she pulled me into a hug. “You don’t need to be embarrassed. We’re all family here and we just want to help you, because we love you.”

I secretly needed that. I just hoped the very personal family conversations didn’t include letting Ambrose in on the nitty gritty details.

While my mom made soup, and her younger sister made pasta for the rest of the group, I went downstairs to use the bathroom and have a hot shower, to loosen my tense muscles and ease some of the milder cramping, now that my guts were starting to settle down. It was also an opportunity to work away some of the tension in little Caleb, eager to greet Ambrose, who’d surely be joining us later that afternoon. I got into more comfortable clothes, wearing a gray T-shirt and a pair of black sweatpants.

I went up to the main floor where my Aunt, my Mom and my brother were setting up the dinner table.

“Will you be joining us?” Auntie Sara asked me, smiling warmly.

I nodded.

“Could you go grab the napkins from the counter, sweetheart?” My mother asked.

On my way to do the task, catching sight of the entrance, I heard the front door click and the knob turn. Ellis, walked in followed by Ambrose, who seemed to make time stand still as he gracefully carried his duffle bag into the house. I felt my stomach clench.

“Hi, Caleb,” Ellis greeted.

“Hey,” I said awkwardly.

“Caleb, long time no see,” Ambrose greeted casually, voice soft but deep. Deeper than I remembered.

I barely choked out a ‘yeah,’ and he gave me a friendly hug, and smelled lightly of a spicy aftershave and like winter air. His hand was slightly cool from the winter air and sent goosebumps all over.

I was shocked he remembered my name.

I needed to distance myself before I would do or say something embarrassing, so I returned to the napkins, folding them and setting them at the table, trying to think of that time I saw our great grandmother naked on vacation to help little Caleb stay calm. It only made me flush further.

As I set up the napkins, my Mom noticed I was tense.

“Are you alright, Caleb?”

“Mhmm,” I answered.

“Did you remember to take another dose of your cramp medicine, Honey?”

“Yes…”

I looked around. Thankfully Ambrose was still getting settled downstairs.

When we eventually all settled at the table, Ambrose sat across from me, a look of curiosity on his face as everyone had a generous plate of penne with meat sauce doused in Parmesan with buttery garlic bread and Caesar salad. Meanwhile, I had a small bowl of soup with a few rice crackers on the side .

“Are you feeling under the weather?” He asked, looking concerned.

“I… uh… I can’t have wheat or dairy…” I admitted, avoiding his gaze by being focused on the soup.

“Oh,” he said. “Okay.” He seemed to accept the explanation easily.

I felt my stomach clench as I broached the proverbial tip of the embarrassing chronic illness iceberg. I’d barely been around Ambrose five seconds and I was already a giant dork.

At least I would have the fantasy, I guess.

After dinner, I excused myself to get some air. I wandered out to a gazebo where there was a wood bench to sit on. It was a way for me to have a private moment to recover from the social exhaustion of being in a confined space with my family for three hours. It was also a good opportunity for me to pass some gas that was really hurting me.

“Hey, Caleb.”

“...Ambrose, I didn’t see you there.”

“Would you mind if I vaped?”

“Go for it,” I said. I moved aside so Ambrose could sit next to me. He pulled his vape pen from his coat pocket, and puckered his lips around it, closing his eyes in relief as he sucked in the fruity smelling vapour inside.

“I know that I shouldn’t,” he confessed. “I quit cigarettes a couple months ago… and I try not to smoke up anymore, because I need to bring my grades up. But I’m having a day, you know? My father is away in China on business. I started at a new boarding school this year. It’s just a tough… it’s been a tough few months. Uncle Ellis is basically the only family I have left. If he weren’t decent, I don’t know what I’d do for Christmas.”

“I’m sorry…” was all I could seem to answer. It seemed so petty to feel sorry for myself and my stomach problems when I had such a supportive family.

“I don’t know why I’m telling you all of my shit…” he said, coughing a bit and chuckling.

“It all sounds… really stressful. Probably really healthy for you to not let that fester inside of you.”

He smiled. “You’re right. I feel better already.”

I felt myself smile back. Then butterflies or… stomach pain. Painful bubbles. I closed my eyes for a moment.

“I empathize with you, Ambrose. If it wasn’t awkward enough that I skipped eighth grade, I also changed schools this year, I can’t seem to… make friends. As pathetic as that sounds. I don’t think I have anything in common with ...anyone. My brother is pretty popular. He had no trouble. I’m a shy dork.”

“It’s too bad we didn’t transfer to the same school. I feel like we would’ve been friends.”

“Yeah?”

“Of course. I think you’re cool.”

“You don’t have to lie to me,” I chuckled.

“I mean it, Caleb. You’re an amazing artist. I follow your Instagram. Your drawings are great.”

I hadn’t even thought he knew I existed. “Thanks,” I said timidly.

“With a friend like you maybe I wouldn’t have dated my ex at all. Would’ve saved me some time if a good friend would have talked sense into me. Not like my father is there to give me guidance…I sound so bitter. I’m talking too much.”

Had I had the balls to do it, I’d ask ‘boyfriend? Girlfriend?’ I didn’t dare ask.

“No you aren’t. I don’t mind.” I really didn’t.

He looked down at my hands tucked into the pockets of my coat. I guess I wasn’t so subtle about my stomach.

“Are you okay?”

“Yup,” I answered unconvincingly.

“Okay…” he said incredulously, chuckling. “Don’t tell me then,” he said, pouting his lip, feigning hurt feelings.

“I didn’t think you cared so much,” I said, half teasing him, half nervously.

He looked me right in the eye, tucked his shoulder length loose curl brown locks behind his ear, let what felt like 2 eternities but was actually 2 seconds of silence pass, and plainly said “maybe I do.” Then his lips quivered into a half smile. I bit my lip trying not to laugh and looked ahead.

Had he just flirted with me?

“Ambrose, there are parts of me that are starting to get cold, in ways parts should never be cold,” I said, vaguely alluding to my testicles. Ambrose let out a snorting laugh. “I’m going back inside.”

As I started heading towards the house, I felt something crumbly and cold hit my back. When a turned a snowball hit my face, and once I adjusted my glasses, I could see Ambrose’s self satisfied shit eating grin beaming right at me. We kept throwing snowballs at each other as I closed the gap between us, and he sometimes ducked behind that gazebo bench, culminating into a wrestling match in the snow. When we’d had enough, we sat there panting, snow in places snow shouldn’t be, and noticed Auntie Sara in the window, holding her phone up and filming the moment, laughing when we’d realized.

#mm romance #sickfic #sickfic saga #embarassing #hurt/comfort #ibs

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tellerford13 · 7 years

Photo

MO ASTOR- CHAPTER 21

We don’t own the bikes, brothers, or any “related” Sons of Anarchy, trust us, if we did we wouldn’t have the time to write. No money is being made from our stories. So, please don’t sue. It’d be a fruitless endeavor indeed. That being said, Harley, Journee, and any other newbies are ours, and we don’t share. :Whispers in creepy voice: “My precious.” The universe This reality is a mix of cannon, and our own ideas. We strive to keep the boys cannon, but since we will be shifting around some of the events, that will reflect in our writing and their personalities as well. It’s our goal to provide you with quality fiction, and solid, fleshed out OFC. We appreciate constructive criticism and love LOVE reviews, they are a writers life blood and definitely help encourage us and inspire us. We will be posting on our Tumblr where we’ll have fun pictures from time to time as well. http://tellerford13.tumblr.com We’ll also be taking requests for one shots, preferences or imagines for all things Sons at our other Tumblr, so check it out and send your thoughts!http://tellerford13oneshots.tumblr.com/ And just for fun, we’ve decided to start a Pinterest for the story! So if you want a glimpse at our girls and see into our world, check it out! https://www.pinterest.com/tellerford/

A/N: Happy Early Valentine’s day. We intended to get this to you sooner, but Chibs was overflowing with joy, thoughts, and experiences. Which is fair since it’s his honeymoon and all. *laughs. We hope you enjoy the trip across the pond and the bonus Jax and Lee. Our gift to you this Holiday.

Mo Astor Chapter 21

Jax

I’m rock hard from hours of Lee’s ass pressed into me and her back to my chest. She’s got rhythm, but it’s the time she spent with GB and Journee that has her moving the way she does. I could do nothing more but match her. I’ve never been one to be shown up. I nip my way up her neck to whisper in her ear.

“You ready to get out of here.”

She nods her head, and I squeeze her waist before I release her and twine our fingers. I guide her across the crowded floor and out into the night air. It’s instantly cooler without the crush of bodies.

“You have a good time?” I ask.

“The best. It’s been so long since I went dancing.”

Her smile is all the thanks I need. I tug her toward me and kiss her lips. She tastes like whiskey and the chocolate desert we shared. I moan as I tilt my head, deepening the kiss and she melts against me. The small gesture is a huge show of trust coming from her. She’s always been guarded. This Life has a way of making the women living it that way. We part to breathe, and I take her in. Flushed, heavy-lidded, and smiling, she’s stunning.

“What?”

“Just thinking about how beautiful you are.”

“Shut up.”

I chuckle. “What? It’s true darling.”

Pink fills her cheek, and I wrap an arm around her waist and lead her to the car.

“Thank you for tonight,” she says as I hold the car door open for her.

“You’re welcome, Harley.”

Her eyes widen. She knows I’m serious when I use her full name. She climbs into the seat, and I walk to the driver’s side feeling her gaze on me. I want to end the night between her legs, but I don’t want her to think I expect it. Tonight was about showing her how different I can be. That means taking nothing for granted.

She rubs my knee and up my thigh as I drive home. My cock responds, threatening to bust open the zipper on my jeans. I clear my throat and shift in my seat. She cups my bulge.

“Playing with fire, Lee.”

“I’m not playing,” she whispers huskily. She unzips my pants, and I take a shaky breath as she frees me. I grip the wheel with both hands as she wraps her lips around me. I groan as she takes me inch by torturous inch. Her warm, wet mouth, suctions me and I shudder. She grips my base and twists her wrist. I focus on the lines on the road and staying between them, and she works me over. I want to grip her head and thrust, but I’m bound by the driving. She hums, and I flinch. The teasing continues as we roll down the dark highway. She takes me to the edge and moves to circle my tip with her tongue, allowing me to come back down before she starts all over again. We’re pulling into Charming when I go off the road behind the sign and grip her hair. She hums as I fuck her mouth opening her throat as I fist her hair tightly. My balls draw up, and my heart threatens to beat out of my chest as I finally find release and spray into the back of her throat.

My body convulses as fireworks erupt behind my lids and I slump back into my seat. I’m vaguely aware of her swallowing and cleaning me with her tongue. She tucks me into my pants, and I come back to myself.

“Jesus, Lee.”

“You gave me something tonight. I was returning the favor.” She presses a small kiss to my lips.

I shake my head, awed by the woman I’ve chosen for my own.

Chibs

I stare at the woman asleep beside me, wondering if I’ll wake up and find the past few months have been a dream. We’ve come full circle. From her adorable, but completely misplaced crush, to loyal companions, best friends, and now husband and wife. Maybe the universe had a plan for us all along. When I first arrived I was angry at the world, still healing, and bitter about the way life had turned out. I kept to myself for the most part, but it never seemed to deter her. She’d never been bothered by my silence, and there was a comfort in that, not having to talk, and yet, not being alone.

There was something about her that reminded me of what I’d lost. So I was careful not to scare her away like the others. A time or two she was the one who tended me wounds. They claimed she had a gentle touch. They weren’t wrong. I didn’t know at the time, but she’d been hurting too. From what I heard it was expected she and Opie would be an item. Then Donna came to town, and that was all she wrote. It had broken the poor girls’ heart in a way, dashed her hopes, and broke up the inseparable foursome. Whatever the reason the stars chose to align as they did, I’m grateful. Without everything happening just so, I don’t know if we’d ever have made it here, and the woman is me world.

Mine. She’s mine to care for, protect, and love. There’s not a malicious bone in her body, unlike my former wife. Journee says what she means and truly has no clue how damn beautiful she is. Sex will never become a weapon with her, nor will she withhold affection. She’s poured love into me all these years when she had no reason to, and I trust her with all that I am.

I have a lot planned for us. I wanted to do this right, show her me old haunts, the historical places, and my kin. It’s been ages since I set eyes on my sister Greer. I’m worried about their meeting. Life’s been hard for both of us, and the one woman I brought to meet her betrayed me so badly, I couldn’t come back to my home and almost lost my life. She’ll be standoffish, and I don’t want my Lennan taking that personally. I kiss her temple as she begins to stir.

“Rise and Shine, Mrs. Telford,” I whisper.

She groans and moves in her seat shifting her weight. Her lids flutter open, and she gives me a sleepy smile. “I feel like we’ve been in the air forever.”

“Aye, me bones are protesting being in the same position for so long. We’ll be landing soon.”

She yawns, stretching her arms above her head, and I’m glad I sprung for first class. I don’t want anyone crammed next to her or touching her. I just got her all to myself.

“Are you going to tell me where we’ll be staying?” She asks.

“Nae. I wanna see your reaction.”

She grins. “Oh, that means it’s going to be good.”

Her excitement is infectious. She’s better than the finest whiskey, warming me up from the inside and filling me with joy. I fist her low-slung bun, pull her to me, dipping my tongue into her mouth. She hums and returns my kiss as I drink my fill, only stopping when my lungs protest. I need to cut back on the smoking. The seat belt sign lights as the chimes ding.

“We’ll be landing in Edinburg in twenty minutes. Please turn your trays and seats to their upright position.”

She grips my hands and squeezes. I rest my head against hers as the plane descends to the land of my origin.

With our luggage in hand, I allow her to be the navigator as we wind through the airport toward the car rental company.

“Are you going to let me drive on this trip?” She asked excitedly as we approach the que.

I laugh. “If you want to love.”

She grins, and I shake my head.

“Cheeky girl.”

She winks. “And you love it.”

“Aye.”

It feels good to be out together without my colors or an agenda. I can’t remember the last time I went anywhere that wasn’t a run. We wind our way up to the kiosk and procure our car.

“Now the real fun begins, love.”

Fifteen minutes later I’m sneaking glances at Journee as we round the corner and pull up the cobblestone drive toward our destination. The massive stone structure rises up from the ground, cutting an impressive silhouette against the city background. The town is quaint compared to California. The buildings are old and well cared for, making it feel like you’ve stepped back a few centuries in time.

She gasps. “Oh my God. Chibs… are we staying here?”

“Aye, love. This is the Witchery. It’s got great food, amazing views, and top notch service. I never had occasion to stay here meself but I heard nothing but great things.”

“Filip.” Her voice warbles.

“Ye don’t like it? We can move our rooms somewhere else...”

“No. it’s. I love it. I love you. I can’t believe you did all this for me.”

“Little lass, there’s nothing I wouldn’t do, or you don’t deserve.” I reach over and squeeze her hand. “You’ll never have to wonder with me. I know the prize I’ve got, and I’ll spend the rest of me life trying to prove I’m worthy of you.”

“Filip, there’s nothing to prove.” She runs her fingers over my sensitive scar, and I shiver. She’s the only person who could ever touch it and not bring forth anger.

I turn my head slightly to kiss her fingers and locate parking. I’m on top of the world as we park and make our way inside the ornate building. The tapestries on the wall catch my eye as we approach the check-in desk. The castle set on a lush green hill with waterfalls tumbling over the side remind of the romanticism that all us Scots are known for.

“Oh, it’s beautiful,” She whispers.

“Aye,” I agree as I peer down at her. “I’m checking in. Two for Telford.”

“Ahh Welcome to The Witchery Mr. and Mrs. Telford. Congratulations on your nuptials.”

“Oh, thank you,” Journee gushes.

“Our thanks,” I say. He rattles off the information about the hotel, nearby restaurants, and places. It’s been nearly twenty-four hours since I’ve been inside my wife. Everything else can wait. I nod my head as he gives us our keys and we walk up the stone stairs toward our room. I unlock the door, and we walk into the suite that’s fit for royalty. Ornate gold moldings stand out against the sage green canopy and matching covers of the four poster bed. She spins slowly taking everything in as I lock the door behind us and set the bags to the side against the wall.

“Daddy needs some play time with his Little Lass,” I say as I push the knit cardigan off her shoulders and onto the floor. Her form-fitting black jeans and, a gray t-shirt and beige hat are adorable, but too much of a barrier. I toss the hat, and her eyes widen. “I need you naked and on the bed waiting for me now.”

She nods her head, and the clothes begin to fly. I step over the pile of clothing at my feet and admire her sienna-skin frame. I spread her legs wider and climb onto the bed as I bury my face between her legs and lap at her neatly trimmed pussy. Her taste explodes onto my tongue, and I moan as I circle her swollen clit. I lash the hardening bundle, and she thrusts back against me making me grunt. I love her responsiveness. I drive my tongue inside her, and she rocks back against me. I hum and nudge her clit with my tongue. She contracts around me, and I know she’s close. I move my tongue faster, and she shudders, yielding her cream. I give her one last swipe and pull back, gripping her hips as I lick my way up her chest and bite the flesh on her shoulder as I slid home. I grit my teeth as my eyes roll into the back of my head and I have to pause to keep from exploding inside her. Nothing has ever felt this good in my life. I pull out and drive in. She buries her face into the pillow to muffle the screaming as we come together. Our flesh slaps together, and she grips the sheets as she meets me stroke for stroke, giving me back everything I’m giving her. I grip her hips as the sweat drips down my body and her skin glistens in the light.

I cage her body in with my arms as I drive deeper. She flexes around me and my spine tingles. We’re both close.

“So tight for me, love.” I rasp. “I want you to come for your, Daddy.”

Her body shakes, and she constricts around me. All those weeks of teasing and training have created a deep connection. I grit my teeth as I pump through her orgasm before I fill her with my seed. Reluctantly pulling away I lift her legs and place them over my shoulder as I kiss her breasts while we catch our breath. I let her legs drop and roll out of bed, and pop the bottle of champagne they’d set in a bucket beside a box of chocolates. I pour two glasses and bring one to her.

“To us love.”

“To us,” She replies as we clink glasses.

“I hope ye know I’m just getting started,” I say licking my lips as I take in her lithe frame.

Her eyes widen, and I chuckle as I finish the drink and move to the bathroom to run a bath. I choose this room for its bathroom. The claw foot tub is big enough for two, perfect to sooth the aches I’m going to cause, and pretty to look at. I toss in bubble bath and set the perfect temperature before I return to the bedroom where she’s finishing off her drink.

“I have another surprise for you, love.”

“You do?” she bounces off the bed, and I laugh.

I twine our fingers and lead her into the bathroom.

“Holy shit, we’ll never leave the room.”

“Why do you think I booked this one in particular?” I ask as I lead her over and help her step down. She sighs, and I gather washcloths, soap and slip in behind her as she turns off the faucet. Lathering up our washcloths we rid ourselves of the travel weariness that’s set in. The feel of her ass pressed against me has my cock at half-mast.

“Again?”

“Aye, turn around and straddle your Daddy like a good girl.” “Yes, Daddy,” she whispers as I help her turn. She grips me at the base and strokes me just the way I like with a tight grip and just the right speed. “That’s my good girl.”

“I only want to please you, Daddy.”

“That you do, little lass.”

I study her through lowered lids. “I want you to ride me, lass.”

“I don’t know if I can fit all of you into my tight little Kitty.”

Jaysus she’s a fast study.

“I promise you can. Can you be brave and do that for Daddy? Let him stretch out those pretty pink parts and make you feel good?”

“Yes, Daddy. I like it when you fill me with your cock.”

“Then come and have a ride, love.”

She grips my base and eases down inch by inch. “Oh Daddy, you’re so big.”

“Keep going,” I reach out, and stroke her clit and she continues until I’m fully seated inside her.

“I’m so full,” She whimpers.

“Fuck, lass.” She grips my shoulders as she lifts up and lowers down, circling her hips as she finds a rhythm. I grip her hips, guiding her. Water sloshes onto the floor as she rides me faster. Her nails dig into my flesh, and I tilt my hips to go deeper.

“That’s right. Fuck your Daddy.”

“Oh, God.” She throws her head back, and her breasts bounce. I bite down on a fat brown nipple, and she flexes around me making us both cry out.

“Filip. I- I’m going to come.”

She convulses, taking me over the edge, and milking me dry with her tight hold. I rest my head in the valley between her breasts and remind myself I have to feed her before we can do this again. I’m like a boy in his prime. It takes nothing to get me going again with her.

***

Once I filled her belly with a hearty Scottish breakfast of sausage baked beans, scones, eggs, and porridge I can’t help but laugh as we leave the restaurant.

“What?” She asked.

“First day here and you got your wish. You’re as full of Scot as you can get.”

“Filip,” She whispers glancing around as l laugh.

“Let em listen. Might jump start their libidos,” I say as we leave the local restaurant and head down the road. “Where to now?”

“The only place fit for a princess. The Edinburgh Castle.”

We spend the day exploring the castles, taking pictures and making out in every corner we can find until someone approaches. By the time we head back to our room my cock is straining against my pants and her lids are heavy-lidded, and the deep v in her pretty white dress with a blue floral print is teasing me with hints of skin. With the sun setting and the whiskey from our tour swimming in my system, I’m feeling adventurous. The best part about this city is all the darkened corners.

“Love, you trust me?” I ask.

“Of course.”

“C’mere.” I pull her into an alcove hidden from view and wedge her against the wall, showing me back to anyone passing by.

“F-Filip?”

“Be a good girl and spread your legs for Daddy. I cannot wait another minute.”

“What if someone sees?”

“You’ll have to be quiet, so they don’t come investigating. Take out your breast.”

Her hands tremble as she eases her left breast out of. Her nipple puckers and I latch on as I slip my hand up her dress and into her panties. Her wetness coats my fingers and I moan my approval as I suckle her. There’s no time for teasing. I thrust two fingers inside her tight entrance and pump, crooking my fingers as I go in at the angle she loves. She moans and rocks against me as I nudge the hard spot inside her that makes her jerk against me. I twitch in my pants as I increase my speed, and she flexes around my fingers. The muffled noises and her gush of cream tell me she’s close. I bite down on her nipple and use my thumb to circle her swollen clit. She comes apart, showing her fist into her mouth to hide her screams. I pull away. “Open.”

She obeys, and I slip my fingers into her mouth as I smooth down her dress. She sucks them clean as I rearrange the top of her dress. I pull my digits clean and replace them with my tongue. We part for air, and I nuzzle her neck, tickling her sensitive skin with my tongue. “When we get back to our room I’m going to fuck you until you can’t walk Mrs. Telford.”

She grips my biceps and purrs. “I can’t wait.” I wrap my arm around her waist and power walk us to the hotel with her laughter ringing in my ear.

***

I groan as I roll onto my back and stare up at the canopy above my head. I feel like I’ve been on a bender. My body aches and my throat is as dry as a bone. I smack my lips and roll over to my side, curling around the soft frame off my wife. A sly smirk lines my lips. We didn’t’ stop until she literally dropped from exhaustion as pink fingers of dawn streaked across the night sky. She’ll be sore. It’s the perfect day to go to the village and see Greer. A Little walking and lots of talking. I kiss her crown and bury my nose in her sweet smelling hair. Usually, it’d be wrapped up for the evening, but I had her too occupied to care last night.

I roll away from her and ease out of bed. After releaving myself and washing my hands, I start a bath. Today’s huge for me. I haven’t seen my sister in years, and she called her son, Padric to come over too. It’ll be all the family I have left in the world in one room. I return to the bed and sink beside her.

“Rise and Shine, love. It’s time to meet the in-laws.”

She moans. “I can’t, I was paralyzed by my husband’s huge Scottish dick last night, and now I can’t walk.”

I throw my head back and laugh. “Do you want me ta carry you, little lass? I think I can manage that.” I push back the covers to reveal her body, and I moan. Her breasts are swollen and marked by my mouth. A trail off hickeys lead down her body, and her pussy is puffy from a night of poundings.

“You’ve never looked as beautiful as you do right now with my marks all over ye.” Her lids open and she smirks.

“Is that possession I hear, husband?”

“Aye. Make no mistake every inch of you belongs to me now, love.” I scoop her into my arms. And walk her to the bathroom. “Now let’s make that kitty all better. I’ll be needing it again tonight.” She bites her lower lip, and I grin. It’s a good kind of hurt we got going.

“Sweet Jaysus.”

Her words make me laugh as we soothe our aches, grab lunch and get on the road. Finally, I can return to the place I was born better off than I left.

As we pull into town, I drive to the cemetery.

“I want you to meet my Ma,” I say softly. I’d never bothered to do this with Fiona. I knew she’d think it was stupid. She’d say there not in the ground, but somewhere else. I understand that, but the place where their remains lie, is as close to them as we earthly bound humans can get. It counts for something in my book.

“I’d like that, Filip.” Journee squeezes my hand, and I swear I fall in love with the lass all over again. She gets me, my woman. I park the car, and we climb out, walking inside the stone wall through the aged metal gates. Headstones of all shape and sizes rise up from the green grass. Faded bouquets, fresh jars of flowers, and trinkets line the plots. I’m almost ashamed when we get to Ma’s tiny rectangle, marking her life.

“We didn’t’ have much money when she died. This is all we could afford.”

“We can fix that now. If you’d like. Maybe a nice Celtic cross?”

“Oh, she’d love that.”

“Then we’ll make it happen. Before we leave.”

“This is our honeymoon. You don’t need too—

“Aye, which means your family is mine. This is my Ma we’re taking care of too.”

My throat swells, and I glance away. She rests her head on my shoulder.

“Fia? That’s a beautiful name?”

“Aye, and she had flame red hair too. Might be one of our kids will inherit it down the line. She was a kind, hard-working woman who deserved more than the lot she had in life, but she always made the best of it. Got my sense of humor and will to survive from her. When me Da ran off, she just kept carrying on, picking up odd jobs and extra shifts to care for me and ma sister. I wanted to do better so I could take care of her proper like. But she died before I could get the chance. She never got to see me do well. It eats at me.”

“But she sees you now, Filip.”

I peer down at her and wonder how in the fuck I got so lucky.

“I suppose you’re right.”

A breeze blows through the area, and a white feather catches my eye.

“It’s a sign from her. They say feathers mean our loved ones are close by.”

I smile. “I think she gave her approval of you.”

“I hope so.”

“She would’ve loved you as much as I do, love. Don’t you think otherwise for a second. C’mon it’s time for you to meet the rest of us Telfords.”

We pull up to the tiny, well-loved house I grew up in, and I cut the engine.

“This is it, love where I was born.”

“Not in a hospital?”

“No, was a midwife that delivered me.”

“Wow.”

“It was common back then. Are ye ready?”

She swallowed hard. “No, but let’s do it anyway.”

I laugh as I leave the car and come around to help her out as we walk up to the door and knock. The door opens, and I hold my breath. The strawberry blonde looks so much like my mother I’m struck mute for a moment.

“Filip.”

“Greer.” I wrap her in a bear hug and lift her up off the ground as we laugh. The years have given her crows feet and a few extra pounds, same as me.

“It’s so good to see you, love.”

“And you, brother.”

I set her down and notice the lad behind her. I click my tongue.

“Well look at ye!”

“Uncle!”

We hug, and I clap his back before we part.

“And Auntie?” he asks moving his eyebrows up and down.

“You scamp.” Greer says playfully slapping the back of his head.

“Ahh this is me wife, Journee,” I say wrapping an arm around her proudly.

“Hi,” Journee says shyly ducking her head.

“Come in the two of you,” Greer says stepping back as we enter the cottage.

We step inside, and I see she’s kept the things that I remember most. The grandfather clock, photos of our family and the heavy oak table and chairs. I see her touches as well. New paint and furniture.

I focus back in on Padric and whistle. “The cut looks good on ye boyo.”

He grips his lapels and beams up at me with a wide grin that’s a family trait. “Thank ye Uncle.”

“You must be tired after the flight and the drive here, have a seat,” Greer says.

We sit, and the conversation flows as we try to play catch up.

“Can I make some tea?” Journee asks.

“Oh, look at me forgetting my manners,” Greer says moving to stand.

“No, please, don’t stop catching up on my account. I can make it.”

“I’m sorry love, I’m getting lost in my memories,” I say.

She smiles. “I know. I like seeing and hearing it.” She stands, squeezing my shoulders and placing a kiss against my cheek.

“You have to steep it for—

“Oh, sister, I know how to make tea the Telford way, that one made sure of it.” she says with a wink as she makes her way into the kitchen.

“This one is different than the last. I might like her.”

“Ye can’t even put those two in the same category, Greer.”

She nods. “Good.”

“Speaking of that one. How’s me Kerrianne?”

“As lovely as the day is long, and well Uncle. I brought you some photos of us.”

“Does she ever asks about me?”

“Aye. I tell her all I remember, and she…she knows ye got remarried.”

I wince “Is she upset?”

“I don’t think so. Mostly curious. Not that she’d ever ask her mother. Do you think your wife would mind if I share some things maybe get a few picture of the two of yea?”

I smile. “No, she’d very much like that.”

“Maybe she can pass along things, and I can pass them to you and vice versa? Pretty soon Keri’s gonna be eighteen, and I want her to know she has options. Jimmy hasn’t gotten any less crazy, and none of this was her fault.”

“You’re as smart as you are handsome, lad. Just like your Uncle. We’ll set up a system eh?” A few months ago I would’ve been worried about Fiona and asking how he treated her. Now I could give a shite less. As long as my little girl is thriving, I’m fine.

We continue our conversation before I insist on treating them to lunch in the village. We point out childhood landmarks on the trip and Journee and Padric both eat it up like small children on a road trip. I like the man, the boy I once knew, has become. He’s light-hearted, but there’s an edge to him that says he can take care of himself and anyone else who comes along and wants to start something. After lunch, we walk the village, window shopping and exploring the shelves.

“Lennan, Padric had an idea if you're willing…He’ll send things back and forth between us and KerriAnne. No one will think anything of him writing his Uncle or his Aunt back in Charming.”

“That’d be amazing! Oh! We should get her something,” Journee says tugging my hand. “Come on, let’s have him fill us in on what she likes and doesn't.”

The words are music to my ear. It pains me that I don’t know my own child. I know I’m lucky to have gotten away from Jimmy alive. Not many do, but for years afterward I felt like death would‘ve been easier. He knew that the bastard. He wanted me to live with the shame and the hate he’d grown in my heart. I’m a man starved as I listen to him talk about her love of animals and musical tastes. Her favorite color is purple, and she loves classic literature and romance books, which he teases her relentlessly about. My heart warms as the picture of her now is fleshed in. The fading memories of her as a tiny thing are being replaced with something far better.

“Are you two going to stay the night?” Greer asks.

“If it’s not putting you out,” Journee said.

“Not at all. We’ve always got room for family.”

They smile at each other, and I know she’s been officially accepted.

“I want to give you two something.” She leaves the room and returns with a patch work quilt I remember resting on my mothers’ bed. “It’s the Telford baby blanket. Guaranteed to help you conceive.”

“You believe tha?” I ask.

She shugs. “It’s how I got Padric, and Ma got us.”

Journee takes it gently. “Thank you Greer. We’ll cherish this.”

“I’m past my child bearing years, and If I’m reading you right, the two of you are just about to start them.”

Padric chuckles. “Oh, I’m sure they already have, Ma.”

“Mind your manners ya cheeky bastard,” I say as he laughs and holds up his hands.

“Sorry Uncle. I couldn’t resist.”

I narrow my gaze and raise my fist waving it at him. “I’m not above taking you to the ring.”

“My hero defending my honor,” Journee drawls.

I take the blanket from her hand, lift her and toss her over my shoulder. “We’ll be putting this to the test. Thank you, Greer. We’ll see you in this morning.”

“Filip Royal,” Journee hisses.

I pat her ass. Their laughter follows us down the hallway to the room that once belonged to me. I’m about to fulfill a fantasy and take her in the room of my boyhood. I pitch her onto the bed and strip down. I watch as she removes the emerald green dress with floral accents. I lick my lips as her tawny skin is revealed. Her breasts threaten to spill over the lacy white bra with crisscrossing straps around her upper torso. The matching panties are crotchless, and I groan as I make a mental note to buy Lee something nice for all the outfits she’d packed. I crawl onto the bed between her legs.

“You’re too pretty to undress, love. I’m going to take ye just as you are.” I cover our bodies with the blanket and run my fingers over her slick lips. “So wet. You ready for your man?”

“Always.”

I ease into her, careful to go slow as she wraps around me like a glove. We find a gentle rhythm as our lips come together. Sparks fly between us, and I lose myself in the depths of her dark eyes.

“Oh. Oh, Filip, I love you, love , love you.”

She tilts her hips up, and I go deeper.

“And I you, my love.”

Words fail as my heart beats faster and she arches, grinding against me. She tugs at my growing hair and my balls draw up tight.

“I want you to fill me, Daddy.”

“Then come for me, little lass.” Her body shakes, her muscles contract and she goes stiff as her mouth opens in a silent scream. I spill inside her feeling like I just had a spiritual exchange. I burrow my face into her neck and balance my weight as I remain inside her wishing I could make this moment last a lifetime.

“Tomorrow we’ll carve our names in the oldest tree in the village. It’s said the lovers who’re named there remain together for life.”

“We already are, but I love the sentiment.”

Her confident answer makes me grin. I pull out and lay beside her. “Let’s get a few winks love. I’m not done with you yet.”

“Jesus, Mary, and Joseph. You’re going to have me walking like a cowboy.”

“Aye. You’ll wear the look off a woman well-loved by the time we head back to Charming.”

She giggles and captures my lips in a sweet kiss. We take our time exploring each other’s mouths until sleep claims us.

#sons of anarchy #sons of anarchy fanfiction #Jax Teller #chibs telford #Mo Astor

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thefallenkingfic · 7 years

Text

Chapter 5

The room glowed blue, it was a soft and gentle glow, but brighter than before. As he slowly woke he knew it to be morning. The ceiling was still covering hiding the strongest light. He felt angry at himself for lashing out. Angry at the woman Lumina for staring at him silently and letting him do it in the first place. Those quiet watchful eyes had done it, They’d driven him to anger with patience… right? There where soft footsteps and slowly sitting up he met her steady gaze. She carried a tray like the maid had the night before. It was made of blue crystal deep blue like the water beyond the walls, like the bowel and the glass. She said nothing as she moved to the bedside table and settled the tray on it, shifting slightly as she arranged the plate before moving the glass and pitcher onto the table.

Once done she stood fully and faced him waiting quietly. It took him a moment to realize what she wanted. He shifted sitting up slowly, he found he had more energy and moving was not as difficult. Almost the entirety of the paste was gone leaving only the faintest film on his flesh now which had recovered an almost healthy color. The flesh had regrown and while pale looked stronger. His arm was still smaller compared but work would built muscle back into it. Even if it was never truly the same, it was better than losing his arm completely…. He looked at his chest, what would have happened to him if the Gauntlet had lingered. Another thought struck him and he reached up touching his cheek. The burning was gone leaving only the faintest of tingling sensations.

“A Mirror.” He said then took a slow breath “Please.” He said carefully. Lumina smiled faintly shaking her head “After you eat. If you’re up to it, we’ll walk a bit. Resting is important and a walk will tire you but it will also help you.” She said gently. Now he was sitting up she moved setting the trey on his lap. The food was warm giving off the steam of having been freshly cooked. The aroma was wonderful and he found himself practically staving.

“Do you think you can hold the glass today?” she asked, not judgmentally but considering the risk of him dropping it again. He stared at the hand holding his fork critically and nodded after a moment. It was steady and, felt much stronger.

She moved pouring a rich Maroon looking Liquid and handed it to him, he sniffed quizzically and was met with a fruity smell, a tasting sip resulted in a sweet explosion of taste. Noting his expression of pleasant surprise Lumina smiled “Do you like it? The fruits used to make it are grown down here, they only grow here I will show you later if you like.” She said warmly settling on the edge of the bed smiling faintly as she plucked up a sheaf of papers that she had also brought in with her from the table and humming softly read over the marking thing off with a fine blue quill.

“What are you doing?” he asked curiously as he ate. Looking up Lumina shrugged “Paper work. I’ve spent a lot of time tending you and Mephisto, even in your weakened states. While I can delegate some work, there are things I must see to. Thankfully, Paperwork can be read ad addressed just about anywhere.” She said with a chuckle, He nodded thoughtfully as he ate. Despite his attempt at ruling Ephidia he had done little, granted he’d been trapped but still…

“And so… what… is that paper about?” he asked carefully surprised by his own curiosity. After marking something Lumina looked up at him again. “It’s a proposal for rotating next year’s outer gardens. Something we grow out in the ocean Plants to heal, Plants to entice fish, Fast growing coral for construction. Depending on need, we have bigger gardens for what we need most. Construction on a new outer Bubble was finished earlier this year, with final inspection showing stability we’ll need more construction material to begin building homes, So This proposal outline the plans, the ideal Number of homes and businesses needed to sustain the bubble, and the materials needed for such a project.” She explained. Gramorr frowned “That seems like a lot. Why can this not be delegated?” he demanded annoyed it seemed like such a menial task, something surely some secretary or council member could handle.

“It can be. But I hate to be Idle and if something goes wrong there is no one to blame, but me.” She said calmly “I have advises of course and The council can if needed Veto any decisions I make with a vote, However so far my work has gone unhampered.” She said easily.

“It was you who taught me this.” She said after a moment causing him to chock on his drink She looked at him worried as he took in a gulp of air and stared hard at her “I did what?” he demanded.

“You taught me the importance f keeping my kingdom in my Hands. When I took the throne I was young, I knew very little of how to maintain a kingdom. I had lived rather idly everyone believed I had yeas to learn and study. When the crown fell to me, no one was more surprised and I was Ill prepared.’ She said calmly resting her hands on the papers and sighing wistfully.

“One of your very first lessons was That I had to remember I was Queen. The peoples Will, the peoples welfare was Mine to maintain. I am their greatest joy and hold their greatest fears in my hands. I cannot pass those fears and joys off to others. You were right. When I returned I struggled to regain power from the men on the council who had thought to usurp me in my absence. I was just a child, they thought, I couldn’t rule. They had been advisors to my mother and father before I’d even been born, surely they knew better. Some did, and them I have kept, some did not and they have since been removed from position.” She said calmly Looking over with a smile “Another thing you taught me. I cannot allow old sentiment to cloud my judgment at the risk of my people. These men had helped my Parents but I couldn’t not keep them on at the expense of the citizens. Offered an ultimatum, Many weren’t happy of course It was a long road to gain the trust of those who stayed on, and of the people who had only known me as an Idle Princess and child.” She shifted a faint blush crossing her face was she… embarrassed? He was surprised. She seemed so unmovable, almost cold.

“It’s not something to be ashamed of.” He said finding himself wanting to comfort her, the words though felt… oddly familiar as he said them, there was a sense of déjà vu as he set his fork down and looked at her “you’re just a child, No one could have expected you to become queen so suddenly and under such circumstances.” He said blinking But she wasn’t a child, though for a moment he’d swear she looked younger as she stared at him, then the instant was gone.

“Y-yes well…” she mumbled quietly standing “How is the meal?” she asked quickly gesturing to the now empty glass and plate he nodded appreciatively as she set the papers on the trey and lifted it. “I’ll go put these away and arrange cloths for you, we’ll walk n the garden a bit then you can see Mephisto, Perhaps you can help him.” She said softly. He frowned shaking his head

“What needs help?” he asked Lumina hesitated then sighed “He… seems to have no memories. Or very few. He didn’t recognize his own name, He didn’t know he had a sister he has no memory of working for you, or seeing earth or even that he had magic.” She said shifting

“I do not know what you remember of the battle but In a bid to rescue his sister he took a blow from the enchanted stone. When the alter collapsed he fell with it, the energy over powered the stone and it exploded. We saved him, just barely but he was very badly injured in the blast. The magical backlash has taken a toll on his body.” She explained Gramorr frowned it was difficult to imagine, despite his warnings and frustrations he had never been able to rid himself of the twins, he simply couldn’t.

“What of Praxina?” he asked seriously Lumina shook her head “I do not know, a man of my court has reported from Earth So far there has been no sign of her. The last she was seen she appeared shortly after your confrontation with the princess. She was wearing the remains your mask and demanded justice for her brother… Banes was with her.” She sad evenly gripping the trey tightly

“That creature.. I… No… you are still weak, we shall not discuss it now.” She said shaking her head “Just take this moment to rest shall return with cloths, I imagine you are anxious to leave that bed.” She sad and hurried from the room.

So, Mephisto was Injured and Praxina was missing… worse with Banes at her side. He scowled, that traitor… but, was he surprised? Despite having summoned him Gramorr had never truly felt the cat to be his own familiar, it had seemed to… smart. No that wasn’t right but he wasn’t sure how to describe it, even to himself. But something about it had been off. When he had reached out part of him had known the cat would Snub him. The dark magic within it had surpassed even his own.

So the question hung in the air, what was Banes? And why had it latched on to Praxina?

#The Fallen King #Lolirock Fanfiction #Lolirock #Fanfiction #Gramorr

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erinjdoyle · 7 years

Text

Writing classes

If you want to be a writer it seems like you should go take a course to learn how, that’s totally a thing that you should do, right?

Ummm….

I have taken a range of writing classes and I have mixed feelings about them. On the one hand, I have met other writers and improved my craft. On the other, I have wasted hours of my life on pointless readings, listened to people who are really only out to stroke their own egos, and even been reduced to tears. So, I figured I would tell you about the classes I have taken and what I thought was good or bad about them.

The first writing class I tried was a correspondence course where you were sent a set of readings and then had to so an assignment based on them. This course put emphasis on writing to be published, on writing to be paid, but it otherwise lacked focus. It started out talking about magazine articles, and slowly made its way through radio and short stories, and then children’s books, and novels, then screenplays, and then I just stopped bothering with it. I dropped it because I had a clear goal in my writing that wasn’t being addressed but such a broad array of topics.

It was too tightly focused on writing products instead of writing beautiful things, things which could inspire or challenge, things that were acts of self-expression. This is fine, if you want to be published no matter what and don’t care about quality or artistic merit. But I think you risk writing things that are too formulaic, with cardboard cut-out characters that no one can actually care about. It might be marketable but that doesn’t mean it’s actually good (Fifty Shades of Grey, for example).

The second writing course was the cheapest and by far the worst. This was a night class held at a local high school. The problem with this is that anyone can teach a community education program. The guy teaching the class was a local play write of no significance, not someone in publishing or someone who had won critical acclaim, not someone who had studied writing (except for the same correspondence course I had already dropped, as it turned out). What’s the problem with him being a play write? Normally nothing but in this case, everyone in the class wanted to write novels. Writing a play is very different and his experience wasn’t suited. He explained that he had actually wanted to teach a screenwriting class and that the admin people had made him widen the scope to recruit more students- he didn’t want to teach what he was teaching and it showed.

Instead of course readings, he liked to read his own work aloud to the class and then tell us why it was effective. Listening to your teacher read their own unpublished work aloud really doesn’t count as a course reading- students don’t benefit from being told why their teacher is amazing or from seeing just one style of work. The more diverse the written material they are exposed to, the better writers they will be because they will have had many teachers. Having diverse course readings also increases the chances that each student will find something that really speaks to them, we are all different after all.

The third problem was he that was, technically speaking, an arsehole.

He explained that we were to hand in a new piece of writing every week. He said it shouldn’t be hard to do because we were all adults then he looked at me, clearly the youngest in the class, and with a less than friendly tone said: “those of us that aren’t sixteen anyway.” He had decided that I was a child and that I wouldn’t meet his expectations- even if I had been sixteen at the time (I was in my twenties) that would have been a jerk move. A person’s age may give you an idea of the issues they will talk about in their writing, but not the quality of it or how hard they are willing to work to improve, or the validity of their work.

So, we handed our first pieces in for him to read. I had written about a woman learning that the child she have given up for adoption years earlier wanted to meet her.

The following week, he started the class with a big speech about how the quality of the pieces handed in had varied but been generally disappointing, and how one was so bad that all he had written on it was “read a book” and then he laughed. Following this harsh and public criticism of an unidentified person’s piece, the work was handed back and we were each asked to read our work allowed to the class. It came to my turn, and he told everyone that mine was the terrible one that he mentioned before and that they were to pay attention to find the problems and learn what not to do. I swallowed the humiliation and read it. When I finished, he mocked my choice to say that the child in the story was only fifteen years old when she decided she wanted to meet her biological mother, because he didn’t think it was realistic. He mocked my description of the mother’s fear of the letter she received and how she didn’t open until several days after it came. This was not fun, but the thing that made it even harder to endure was that every word I had written was true- to him, it was a meaningless piece of crap scribbled out by a child he didn’t want in his class, to me it was the story of how I meet my sister. I told him it was a true story and he didn’t care. Even after he had reduced me to tears he kept going with his criticism. I gathered my things and left. Frankly, I wouldn’t be surprised if he had kept going after I was gone.

I am going to assume everyone who reads this can see why mocking a student for being young and then ruthlessly tearing their creative work apart in front of the entire class on their first try isn’t a good thing.

The other issue with his method in general was that he was telling the class what to think about pieces before they read them. It’s better to let people think for themselves first and to then guide discussion.

The third writing course I took was at university and it was everything the other courses weren’t. It was a class in writing creative non-fiction (a nice tight focus after the first course I never finished) and it was taught by someone who had a doctorate in writing, who had publications and multiple prestigious awards under her belt. And, you know, she was nice. The experience was so good I ended up taking every course she offered.

The classes were interesting and entertaining. I remember learning that it was okay for me to use informal language, even swear words (this was a major revelation to me). Some of what she talked about seemed a little wishy-washy, but I was already a dyed in the wool scientist by that point and anything that was abstract and unsupported by numerical data was at risk of seeming that way, so she was forgiven.

We were not given firmly defined writing assignments. Each week we were given at least two pages of ideas to work with, and had to pick just one. This allowed for each person to find something that worked for them. We were also given a range of things to read. We were given a collection of short stories and poems and were recommended novels, and we could pick and choose what we wanted to read from this assortment of material. Some of it was connected to writing assignments (e.g. read this poem, then write a response to it), and others were not so closely connected but were still excellent pieces of writing that fitted on with the general topic. We were given a lot to work with so that we could find our own path within the course.

The other part of the course was a weekly workshop. We were randomly assigned to workshop groups of less than twenty people each, and we stayed with this group for the entire course. This allowed us to get to know each other and establish trust, which is important for any writing workshop. We would email everyone the piece we were going to bring to the workshop in advance so they could read it and think about it (some people don’t like reading stuff in advance but it was nice to have the opportunity). Then, we would sit in a circle and take turns reading our work aloud. Everyone would then offer constructive feedback. I’m going to say that again, CONSTRUCTIVE feedback. We would pair any criticism with a positive, e.g. “I like the way… but I’m not sure that this part…” This approach was super helpful, and I learned a lot while also making some great friends.

However, there is a potential problem with workshops. If one person is a bit in love with themselves, they can be a disruptive or negative influence. Like, people who waste everyone’s time by bringing things to share but refusing to listen to any feedback, because they have already decided their piece is perfect. Or, they start acting like the teacher, stating their opinion like it is the only right one and acting like everyone needs their permission in some way. Because of these problems, it is best of there is a teacher/leader who can guide the conversation a bit. But, the teacher may not do this well, which means you may have to find some way to insulate yourself from the disruptive person.

Okay, so what have I learned from all of this?

1. Choose your writing courses with care. They are not created equal.

2. If a course isn’t helping you, quit.

3. You learn more from a good workshop group than you do from an average teacher.

4. Someone may have an opinion about your work, but it is up to you to decide whether or not they are right.

#writing advice #writing #writing class

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