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mrsalwayswrite · 2 years

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Always With You (Angel!Reader x Tommy Shelby)

Summary: In some of Tommy's darkest moments, there was someone to give him hope.

This is my contribution to @retromafia Supernatural Celebration! Congrats again on your milestone and thanks for letting me participate!

Words: 5300

Warnings: canon-typical violence, war theme, mentions of death and dying, brief mention of childhood physical abuse, abandonment, swearing, results of Tommy's poor life choices

Moodboard made by the incredibly talented @deans-ch-ch-cherrypie

"Tommy, you need to sleep."

"I'm alright." He replied, wiping the sweat dotting his forehead, only to smear more mud across it.

Freddy grabbed the end of Tommy's shovel, forcing his friend to stop and listen. "Tom, when was the last time you slept?"

He tried to think about it. He really tried. But down here, in the mud and darkness where the sunlight could not penetrate, the days blurred into an endless hell. As soon as he stopped shoveling, all the exhaustion he had been ignoring seemed to finally weigh on him like iron chains. He dropped down onto his ass, uncaring of the mud beneath him. His clothes, his hair, his skin was covered in it anyway. Releasing a sigh, he ground the heels of his hands into his eyes.

"Fuck, Tommy. You can't keep going like this." His friend implored, the faintest hint of desperation in his voice.

"We're close. We're so fuckin' close, Freddy."

"Aye. Jesus. At least go lay down for an hour, yeah? Go back towards the ladder. If somethin' changes, we'll wake you."

"Or start screamin' like a little girl, eh?"

"Fuck you!" Freddy protested, wiping his hands on his filthy trousers. "That rat was the size of me forearm!"

"Think he was imaginin' it still." Danny snickered as he joined the other two, the lantern dangling from his right hand casting an eerie glow over the three tunnelers.

"Fuck you both. I know what I saw."

"Go on, Sergeant. We're good 'ere." Danny said, directed at Tommy with his off-kilter smile.

"Nothin' good down here, Danny."

Danny seemed to ponder Tommy's words for a moment before shrugging. "Me fuckin' mother-in-law isn't screamin' at me. That's good."

Freddy snorted. "Jesus, that woman is a damn menace. Should be sendin' her across the line. Fuckin' war would be over in half an hour."

Tommy snickered as he relented his position amongst the filth of French mud. Carefully, he made his way back towards the entrance of their tunnel. The ladder marked it like some kind of unattainable redemption. He remembered as a boy, listening to the priest droning on about Jacob's ladder and how it was a gateway to heaven. How angels ascended and descended the ladder in a dream while Jacob slept. But as Tommy stared at the ladder, he knew this was no gateway to heaven. It might drag him up from the mire and darkness, but only then thrust him into bullets and blood and screaming. No, there were no angels here. No gateway to heaven. God had abandoned France long ago. If the cruel bastard even existed.

With a sigh, he leaned against one of the dirt walls, sliding back down onto his ass. His blue eyes closed, eyelids weighing heavy. He tried to drown out the noise, tried to ignore the whispers of Danny and Freddy, tried to ignore the shovels and pickaxes.

Thud.

But it did not matter. The sound had wormed itself into his mind, replacing even the sound of his own heartbeat in his ears. Always the shovels against the dirt. Pickaxes when the shovels could not break it up. The repetitive sound followed him, even when he was above the tunnels, as if to remind him where he belonged. In the mud. Beneath the feet of everyone else. In the grave he was only digging for himself and the other tunnelers.

Thud.

He tried to slow his breathing, tried to close his eyes and pretend he was anywhere else beside this hell hole.

Thud.

Then little by little, like his own consciousness was being chipped away at, he was tugged deeper and deeper into sleep.

And for a moment, he was free.

*****

Tommy blearily opened his eyes with all the care of a dead man….and that was how he knew with certainty that he was dreaming.

Since being shipped out from England, he had constantly been on alert, even more so when they reached the battleground. There was no time to let down your guard. Even in your sleep. If it was not the enemy trying to shot or bomb them, it was that cloying terror, aching hunger or overwhelming despair that sunk you into the abyss.

Now his body thrummed with peace. A foreign sensation. The only time he most likely felt this was when he was still in the womb. Beneath his hands was soft, green grass. Above was open skies with only a handful of fluffy clouds to break up the endless blue.

He knew he was dreaming. Unless he had died in his sleep. There were certainly worse ways to go. But this place was too serene for what he knew awaited him in the afterlife.

Overly aware of every movement, he cautiously rolled up into a sitting position, briefly noting he still wore his grimy trousers and shirt. He snorted at himself, even in his own imagination, he was still covered in mud and blood. Still stained by the evidence of war. With his hands threaded through the lush grass, he drew his eyes up from his attire to study his surroundings.

Instead of the stench of death and despair, of soul-sucking muddy tunnels, of blood and shit and piss….he was surrounded by vibrant life.

Rolling, green hills met his gaze. Even from where he sat, he could see five horses grazing. The gentle sound of water led his eyes to the shallow stream parallel to him. On the stream's other side was a copse of trees, standing like sentries over the stream. It all felt so familiar. Like he had been here before.

In his mind's eye, he could see the grouping of vardos, the squealing of children chasing one another and generally getting underfoot of their parents. His mother had brought him and his siblings here before. When the men started demanding money from her to pay off her husband's debts. She would take her children and sneak them away in the dead of night, borrowing a horse from Charlie, and hide away with her clan and family for a few weeks.

It was here he fell in love with horses. Spent every hour on or around the majestic creatures that he could. It did not matter that the animals towered over him. At the ripe age of six years old, Tommy was fearless of the much larger creatures. More often than not, he would sleep under the stars at night, surrounded by the horses while his mother and siblings stayed in the vardo of his grandmother.

With a shaky breath, he ran his hands over his cropped hair as the memories pierced him with more damage than any bullet could.

"Hello, Tommy."

The sweet, lyrical voice washed over Tommy like a cooling balm. Subconsciously he took in a deep breath, letting the comfort settle deeper, releasing the tension in his body. Only then did he turn his head to the left, following the voice.

And stared in wonder at the ethereal creature.

She stood several paces away, her bright eyes watching him. A pure white dress adorned her, a simple piece of fabric with no buttons or excess stitching to draw the eye. The sleeves only just covered her shoulders and the hem danced around her knees, showcasing her bare feet. Yet in the simplicity was beauty.

His eyes continued to scan greedily over her, taking note of everything about her: from the way her hair looked like silk under the midday sun, the gentle smile on her face, the way her skin seemed to shimmer and glow effortlessly, how even the the sunlight cascaded over her like a caress, no shadows dared touch her for she shone like a diamond of the highest grade in the sun. Someone to be worshipped. Someone to be admired in reverent fear and awe.

It felt like a sin to rest his eyes upon her.

He swallowed thickly before speaking. "What are you?"

"I'm an angel."

He took in the information, filtered it through his sieve of an intelligent, calculating mind. And in the moment, the only thing his mind could conjure as a response was: "you don't look like one. Shouldn't you have wings?"

She gave an unladylike snort, but even coming from her, it somehow sounded elegant. "They look pretty but can be bothersome to move around in. I like to keep mine concealed when I can get away with it."

"How do I know for certain? You could be lyin', eh?" As soon as the words came out of his mouth, he knew it was possibly the dumbest thing he had ever spoken. But there was still that hesitancy tearing at him, that dose of reality that made him question everything and take nothing at face value.

"You're really going to make me do this, aren't you?"

He responded with a blank look.

"Ugh." She groaned then threw her hands up in surrender. "Fine! Fine! But only to prove that I'm an angel. You are unbelievably stubborn. Look at me! Do I look mortal to you? No, don't answer that. You'll say something equally dumb. I thought humans were supposed to be smarter this century. Just proving me wrong." She finished her rant, slamming her hands on her hips.

"You done?"

She narrowed her eyes at him. "You're lucky I'm your guardian angel, otherwise I'd be tempted to kick your ass." She grumbled. "Might still do it anyway."

His lips twitched in amusement but he hid it from her.

Her eyes, those orbs that shone like twin stars, fluttered closed for the briefest of moments. She breathed deep and with her deliberately slow exhale….he saw them. Two feathered wings of pure white, the color of a fresh snowfall, spread out on either side of her. What meager breath his lungs contained vanished at the side of them. A profound, awestruck wonder enveloped him in its constricting embrace. She stretched her wings out, giving him a view of how magnificent they truly were. At their full length, they were double the length of her arms, and tall enough for the lowest feathers to graze against the grass. While the backs of the feathers appeared snowy white, it was when the wings were at their full length, catching the sun's rays that he caught just another facet of their beauty. For the feathers lining the inside of the wings shimmered in the sun's rays like iridescent opals.

She was radiant. Shining brighter than the sun.

And Tommy was the scum of the earth, unworthy of being in her presence, unworthy of being witness to her illustrious glory. Yet nothing could tear his gaze away from her. Even his own dark sins felt somehow redeemable as she smiled sweetly down at him.

"Do you believe me now?"

"Yes." The word expelled from his lungs, riding on a shaky breath.

Her smile grew, almost blinding him. She closed her eyes briefly once more, this time a tremor rocked her body. Simultaneously, her wings folded back behind her only to vanish as if never there. She rolled her shoulders lazily, then walked towards him with an unnatural grace in her fluid movements. Even when she sat down, near enough he could feel the comforting warmth of her body yet not close to touch, facing in the same direction, his eyes refused to peel themselves away from her.

Her gaze drifted to the stream, watching it with a fond smile. He followed her example, forcibly ripping his eyes off her and back to the gentle water.

"You're me guardian angel then, eh? I reckon I've kept you busy lately."

"You have no idea." She rolled her eyes playfully at him. "And I suspect that won't stop even after the war."

"If I survive." He was uncertain if he actually uttered the words or just thought them.

Those three words, though, haunted his every step. It was that mindset, those thoughts, that every soldier tried to ignore even as they could never be pushed too far from the mind. The high possibility that War and it's possessive lover, Death, would claim him. That he would die in this godforsaken country in a muddy tunnel or trench, surrounded by blood and piss and pain. Or even worse, having to witness his brothers or friends be chosen instead of him. That he would be left behind to rot away in the empty land of the living. He was unsure which possibility was worse- dying or surviving.

He must have uttered those three words aloud since her head whipped around, eyes staring at him with such compassion it made his heart clench.

She reached down and grabbed his hand, holding it clasped between her own soft hands. "You will. I can promise you that. You will survive this war and return to Birmingham….along with your friends and brothers. You've kept them safe, Tommy." She implored, her voice begging him to believe her.

But hope was deadly poison, sinking in and whispering promises that it could never guarantee. Yet as he stared back at her gleaming eyes, feeling the warmth of her hands clasping his, he could feel that hope, that forbidden fruit, dripping into his veins, clearing away the hollowness that he bound himself in.

"I tried." He whispered. His chest ached with something that tasted like hopelessness and desperation. "I try to keep them safe, to make sure they survive but it's war….this bloody, fuckin' war…."

"I know. You will survive and so will they."

He nodded, that little boy inside of him clinging to her words with a death-like grip. "I'm so fuckin' tired of shovels and darkness. I'm 'fraid it won't leave me head even after." He admitted in a pained whisper, his gaze watery even as he furiously tried to blink the tears away. As if the admission sucked the last of his energy, leaving him a dull shell of himself, his chin dropped to his chest, no longer even able to fight the tears leaking from his eyes. "I'm so tired."

"I know." Her hands tightened around his, bringing it to her chest. Remorse and sorrow filled in the gaps of her words. "I wish I could help."

"Could you…." His voice trailed off with a nearly silent sob.

Somehow she knew what his words failed to convey. Instantly, she climbed into his lap, legs straddling him as she wrapped him in her arms. Not for one second did she seem to care that his clothing was filthy and likely would stain her snowy dress. His head landed on her shoulder, his hands gripped the fabric of her dress like it was his last tether to this world. That without her holding him, he would drift away into nothingness.

"It's alright, Tommy, it's alright." She softly cooed, one hand massaging the back of his neck. "I've got you. I'm not leaving you. You can let go."

And he did.

As if her words were the final plug yanked away, the stronghold containing his emotions burst wide open. Heaving sobs fell from his lips. A torrent of tears watered her dress and their skin. All the pain, all the fear, all the frustration and anger and terror, everything that he had locked away deep inside his mind to appear strong and resident for his brothers and his men….it all came flowing out like a ceaseless, raging river, like pus from a wound.

As he wept, she tightly held him. The only anchor saving him from drowning. All the pain he had been allowing to fester since Greta's death, since his mother's death, since his father's abandonment, it all was bled from him.

Now he felt peace in the safety of her arms. Something he had never experienced in his life. As a child there was always the threat of his father's return and subsequent beatings. The lingering, gnawing hunger in his belly from lack of food, no matter what his mother did to try and feed all of her children. Then it was denying himself to feel anything as he was forced to provide for his siblings. That betrayal, that emptiness, at his mother's death was only an afterthought. And as if the world had not cast enough misery in his life, he found love and watched her slowly wither away as he desperately made pleas and bargains with a God he never believed in. Then War swept in like a ravenging plague to drag him into its depths, binding him in chains until Death stole his soul or War released him with a mocking smile. For who ever truly escaped War and Death? Once one was within their grasp, they would always be forever scarred.

But for the moment, for this finite and limitless break in an unforgiving reality, he was safe. In her embrace, he did not have to be strong. He could be that boy again that just wanted to be held and told that he was enough. That he was loved. So this dream, this illusion, he drank it in like a man dying of thirst in the desert. He breathed in her sweet scent and soaked in the warmth of her touch, reveling in the feeling of being held without expecting a demand in return. He could simply be.

After a time, his tears dried and his inner storm of turmoil died down. With a heavy sigh, he pulled his head back. His hands released their grip and floated down to land on her hips. Her eyes, those gleaming eyes with the light of stars in them, gazed at him gently. Not with pity. They met his own gaze as if reading into his soul and trying to implant this moment of serenity there.

Tenderly, she brushed away the residue of tears on his cheeks. "You are not a simple man, Thomas Shelby. You have the marking of greatness and destiny upon you. I cannot save you from this, but I can grant you a small gift. Something to help when it seems peace has abandoned you and the darkness threatens to swallow you whole."

At his nod, she placed her hand on the left side of his chest, over his heart. A jolt shot through him like a lightning bolt. His eyes widened and his heart raced as his body struggled to remember to breathe. Almost as quickly as the bolt hit him, it disappeared, leaving him wondering what happened.

His icy blue eyes sought hers once again, seeking understanding.

Her hand retracted from his chest, moving to cup his cheek. "Just remember you are not alone. I will always be nearby, watching over you."

Carefully he licked his lips, tasting the salt on them from his tears, before he gave a single nod. After a long second he managed to rasp out, "don't s'pose you have a cigarette."

She rolled her eyes. "Those are terrible for you. Besides, what kind of angel do you think I am?"

"I suspect not a very good angel, eh? Sitting in a man's lap like this. Givin' him ideas." He teased, giving her hips a quick squeeze.

She laughed, and whatever bottomless pit his heart resided in soared up to the heavens at the sound. He hoped to never forget it.

"Deviant." She smacked his shoulder before sliding off his lap to sit next to him, their shoulders touching. "A 'good' angel, as you say, would not be able to keep up with you."

"I s'pose that's a fair point."

"You know you've had two other guardian angels assigned to you before, but they both sought reassignment. Apparently you were more than they could handle." She lightly teased.

"Yeah?"

"Hmmm….Arthur's even worse. You wouldn't believe the number of guardian angels he's gone through. There's a few of us taking bets on how long this next one will last. You Shelbys certainly keep us on our toes."

He smirked. "My apologies."

"You're not sorry. It's alright, I don't mind. Being your guardian angel gives me a front row to watch you succeed. Now I don't have to creep around and watch, somehow Gabriel always caught me and then I would get the disapproving eyes and that shake of his head that makes you know he's disappointed without him even saying it."

"You'd watch me?"

He was unsure if an angel could blush, but when she dropped her head, shielding her face from his gaze, he knew she had not expected him to catch those words in her statement. Chuckling quietly, he wondered how he had ever earned the interest of an angel. Especially the one beside him.

"Shut up." She smacked his thigh this time.

"I don't know much about guardian angels, yeah? But I would think they aren't supposed to tell their….person to shut up or hit them. I may have to report you to your superiors."

"Ugh, Christ." She mumbled, covering her face with her hands.

"And now using the Lord's name in vain." He tisked with a click of his tongue. "You're definitely not a 'good' angel."

"Yeah, yeah, I know. That's how I've managed to stay with you for so long."

"Or when you'd creep on me."

"Shut up!" She smacked him again, both of them ending up laughing.

He snagged her hand, partially to keep her from hitting him again, and threaded their fingers together. A thrill shot through him when she did not pull away. A peaceful silence filled the air around them. For several minutes, they just watched the nearby stream together. Tommy wished they never had to leave this. That they could forever stay here.

A sullen sigh drew his attention back to her. A remorseful pain clouded her eyes as they met his. "You have to wake up now."

"No."

"I'm sorry. They need you."

"I don't want to." Suddenly he could feel it in the back of his mind, like someone tapping on a door, trying to summon his attention. He ignored it, wanting to stay here, wanting to linger in the serenity that he had never experienced before. With each passing heartbeat, the tapping got louder and louder.

"I know. But you have to."

"Please." The plea, the begging, fell from his lips before he could stop it. Maybe another time he would be embarrassed by it. Thomas Shelby never begged. Not for food, he'd rather steal and deal with the coppers. Not for his father's beatings to end, for if his father was focused on him, then his mother and siblings were safe. He never begged….until now.

"Just remember that I'm always with you, Tommy." A single tear streaked down her cheek, glistening in the sunlight. "I promise I won't leave you."

He nodded, squeezing her hand still holding his. What more could be said? This dream, this illusion, was only a reprieve from reality and now it was time to return.

Without his permission, his eyes closed. That tapping turned into a thunderous knocking against his brain. Each knock coincided with his heartbeat, feeling like a grenade going off with each one. He wanted to scream into the void, to make it stop. To promise to wake if the sound would only cease. The sound was both inside and outside him, like he was stuck inside a drum, constantly being beat upon in a slow rhythm that was building, building, building…..

"Tommy."

His mind latched onto his name, following the sound through the painful thundering. The darkness surrounding him swiftly turned gray.

"Tommy!"

His stormy eyes snapped open. He gasped as he sat up in a frenzy, almost headbutting Freddy who was knelt beside him.

"Easy, man, easy." He coaxed.

Tommy rubbed a hand over his face, attempting to dislodge the sleep, the dream, from his mind, as he returned to the familiar mud and darkness he found himself in. "What is it?"

"They're on the other side."

That simple statement made Tommy's head jerk up to stare at his friend. It was now that he could see Danny had dimmed the lantern. That a soft pounding sounded through the tunnel like an echoing of doom. The calling card of Death's arrival.

His gaze shifted to Danny who squatted nearby, watching his Sergeant, awaiting orders, even as he rung his hands nervously.

"Alright, boys, you know what to do." Tommy spoke quietly. That was enough to send the three men grabbing for what weapons they were allowed in the tunnels.

The dirt and mud at the far end of the tunnel shook with each pounding, the enemy drawing closer with each second.

His hand slid to his chest, ghosting over his heart where she had touched him. In that movement, he could feel it. As if she had branded herself to him. With his hand over his rapidly beating heart, he felt her presence, like a line straight to her. And it gave him courage. He remembered her words, her declaration. He would make it home. Him and his brothers and his friends, this War would not claim them.

"In the bleak midwinter." Tommy murmured just before the enemy's shovels broke through and all hell was set loose.

*****

The cigarette smoke curled in the air, rising heavenward. Tommy leaned back in his plush, leather chair, watching the smoke drift away until it vanished. In one hand was the lit cigarette and the other a tumbler of whiskey. His two constant vices. The very things he needed more than air and water and food. The only things to keep him going.

If he was in a better mood, he might have snorted self-deprecatingly at the thought.

At one time, what kept him going was family and ambition. To bring his family out of the slums and make a name for them.

Yet it was Christmas Eve and he sat all alone in his office in the Arrow House.

He had wealth now. He had prestige. His family no longer resided in the filth of Small Heath. More and more people knew the name Shelby now. It was everything he had wanted. And still he was all alone.

Even little Charlie had been tucked into bed hours ago by his nanny. Something a father should have done on Christmas Eve. But it never occurred to him until later, long after his boy was in bed.

So he continued to sit all alone, watching the smoke rise from his mouth and dance in the air until it vanished.

"Hello, Tommy."

He blinked slowly. It had been years since he heard her voice, even in his dreams. More than once he had wondered if she had abandoned him even after her promise.

Lazily, he rolled his head to the side, piercing her with his signature cool indifference. Perhaps if he had anymore tears to cry, he would have wept at her beauty, at the air of serenity she still carried. But he felt even more dead inside than when he labored digging tunnels. Tears were useless for the dead.

She still wore the same white dress, still barefoot and without wings. She looked exactly how he remembered seeing her so long ago. His heart clenched at the sight of her. If he had felt unworthy the first time he beheld her, now he knew his presence tainted her just by the proximity, his sins heaped upon one another to destroy anything good he touched.

With that effortless grace, she walked from the doorway further into his office. Her eyes scanned all around as if seeing the place for the first time, a small smile lit up her face.

"You know, you could make my job a little easier." She quipped, making her way over to him. She leaned against the side of his desk, just within reach, watching him with those gleaming, star-filled eyes that penetrated his soul.

"Aye. Could have." He said in an exhale, each word accompanied by smoke.

"But we all know the great Thomas Shelby lives for danger. He needs that rush to remember he's alive."

"Or he doesn't know how else to live."

A suffocating silence filled the void after he uttered the painful words. A harrowing truth he avoided at all costs. Even in the darkest of nights, when whiskey or opium blinded him but sleep refused to find him, not even then did he scratch at that truth.

With a sudden huff, she extended her hand, fingers wiggling at him.

"Wot?"

"Give it here."

A single eyebrow raised in mild shock, he handed his half used cigarette over. She immediately inhaled deeply, holding it for a moment before letting the smoke slip past her lips like a song.

He chuckled when she handed it back over. "Thought you was an angel, isn't smokin' a sin or somethin'?"

"Yeah, well, told you, I'm not a 'good' angel. How else would I keep up with you?"

They passed the cigarette back and forth quietly a few times before he broke the silence.

"Y'know, when you said you was goin' give me a gift, you never mentioned it would be tattooed to my skin."

She smirked, that twinkle of mischief in her eyes. "I think it looks good on you. Do you not like it?" She leaned forward and placed her hand flat over his heart, right where the several dark lines lay that looked almost like a rising sun.

"Startled me the first time I saw it." He placed his hand over hers, that tingle that shot through him at the touch now a familiar comfort. "Where have you been?"

"Believe it or not, but I may have gotten into some….trouble after our last encounter. Apparently I wasn't supposed to tell you that you'd survive."

"They reassign you?"

"No, no. Nothing like that. I was just forbidden to show myself to you."

"Why now?"

She hesitated before speaking, her gaze dropping to their hands still over his heart before she quietly spoke. "Because you need me."

Tommy waited for the shame to sink its claws into him. That feeling he hated of needing someone else, of not being able to survive on his own. But it never came. Instead a swell of gratitude enveloped him that she was here. That for this short time, he was not alone.

He dropped the cigarette into the overfilled ash tray on his desk and set his tumbler down next to it. Carefully he shifted and tugged her closer. She willingly stepped in between his spread legs. That sense of peace he had yearned for since he first encountered her swallowed him whole, bringing tears of relief to his eyes. He dropped his head to her stomach, hands fisting the back of her dress. One of her hands carded through his hair and massaged his neck while she softly hummed a tune.

"I used to talk to you sometimes when I couldn't sleep, yeah? And the fuckin' shovels were knockin' on me bedroom wall. I'd tell you about me day or plans I had. Anythin' to get the shovels to stop." He confessed.

"I was always there. I heard you."

"But you never spoke." It would have come out almost an accusation if his agony was not apparent.

Her breath hitched, her hand stalling in the longer strands of his hair. He could feel her bend slightly to kiss the top of his head. When she spoke, it was filled with regret. "I couldn't. But I was there with you, every night and day. Always by your side."

"Everyone has left me." He pressed the side of his face further into her stomach as if to sink himself into her, desperately trying to absorb what peace she so willingly offered him. "You're not leavin' me, right?"

"No, Tommy. I'll never leave you." She promised.

He allowed her words to penetrate his soul, to let the flooding warmth in them mend his broken heart. Those simple words renewed his spirit. That no matter what happened, there would always be one person by his side. Even if he could not see her. At least his guardian angel believed in him.

Tag List:

Peaky Blinders (all): @slytherinicequeen @geekandbooknerd @lilyrachelcassidy @deans-ch-ch-cherrypie

#supernatural au celebration #mzwrites #peaky blinders fandom #peaky blinders fiction #peaky blinder imagine #peaky blinder fanfic #by order of the peaky blinders #tommy shelby fanfic #tommy shelby x reader #thomas shelby x reader #thomas shelby fanfic #tommy shelby #thomas shelby

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rostovs-lover · 3 years

Text

dalí on tuesday

charlie dalton x reader | cursing, smoking, brief mentions of sexual things, charlie (probably) has daddy issues, cameron | she/her pronouns | fluff | wc.2562

i am in love with charlie, this is now a charlie dalton centric blog, also ignore how terrible the title is please

anon : Hi!! I love your blog! can I request a charlie Dalton x reader fluff where reader is an artist and he visits them while they're painting? (maybe they end up wiping paint on his face?) I don't know, something really sweet at cute <33333

Charlie Dalton had been resigned to relish in small pleasures to keep himself sane at school, never did he think the library would be one of those. More specifically, the painter tucked into the basement of the library.

───☮︎───

Charlie Dalton was a connoisseur of many things. Pretty girls, expensive wine, shitty poetry, and hand rolled cigarettes - to name a few. His imprisonment at Wellington made only one of those things readily available. So he settled - boxes of cheap smokes bought through upperclassmen, bottles of grocery store wine someone would sneak in from a party, and the two girls that occasionally came with Knox. The shitty poetry was always on deck, he had that at least. It was a tragedy to be resigned to such a bland life, there was absolutely no carpe diem-ing happening in a school that held adolescent boys to uniforms.

It was miserable, truly, but Charlie scrapped by on the thought that soon enough there would be no more stuffy Catholic school and he could finally have a taste of freedom. In the meantime, he would have what little fun he could. The meets in the cave were always the highlight of the week. A place where he could talk and people would listen, and not because they had to but because they enjoyed it. They enjoyed his words and thoughts and presence. No one else had ever really seemed to enjoy Charlie’s presence. They could tolerate it, handle it, but they always had more pressing matters. A business meeting to attend, a bill to pay, a dinner to go to. Always something just a little bit more important and never quite enough time for Charlie. But the other Dead Poets, they valued him. He wasn’t just a kid, a college tuition to pay and a life to layout. He was a person, with interests and hobbies.

It had been there, in the safe haven of the cave, that the idea for the library first came up. Meeks had already talked Pitts into coming, Neil didn’t take much convincing at all, Todd was also easy to lure, Cameron groaned about leaving school grounds but refused to be left out, and Knox agreed to go but only if Nuwanda came too. Charlie had already started to cover what there was to do at a library, read?

Meeks dove into the technical manuals and Pitts followed tentatively, cradling their science project in his arms. Todd had followed Neil to the S authors, Cameron was trying to chat up the woman at the register, and God only knew what Knox was doing. He had been stranded with few options. He could find the geniuses and be talked over for the next hour or third wheel Neil but that guaranteed intruding on something he probably shouldn’t. The polite thing to do would be to rescue Cameron from making a complete fool of himself, throwing bad pick up lines at a clearly uninterested college student, but it was amusing to watch.

Charlie settled on trying to find Knox, at least then he could have some company. Said company was absolutely nowhere to be found. The rows of shelves wound in a confusing maze and Charlie was lost before he could even begin to look. Weaving around he did come face-to-face with a rather large picture of Charles Dickens that made him recoil. It was perched just at eye level above a short staircase and it seemed to judge his every movement. Charlie followed the carpeted stairs down to escape Mister Dickens’ strange little beard and beady black eyes.

The further down the steps Charlie descended the brighter it appeared. The lower level was the children’s section. Considerably more fun than science books or Shakespeare. The big oak counter was abandoned but the lights were still on. He was alone, still.

Charlie sighed, sitting down in one of the bright red wooden chairs. He was much too big for it but it held well under his weight. A sad stuffed bear stared dully into him from the green glossy table.

“Well hello,” He mumbled, picking it up under the arms, “And you must be?” He cleared his throat to take on a gruff baritone, “Mister... Bearington,” Charlie sighed, that was bad. He dropped the bear into his lap, “This is so stupid,”

“Bearington?”

Charlie shot around in the chair, tipping himself off center and stumbling to his feet, bear still clutched in his arms, “Where the hell did you come from?”

“A few blocks over, walked here actually.” You turned back to your work. A painting. Not just a painting, Charlie realized, a mural. It stretched the length of the wall, roughly sketched in pencil and waiting to be finished.

He blinked, “That’s good. The wall I mean,”

“Thank you,” Your face flustered and Charlie took notice, “It’s not much of anything yet, just an outline. It’ll look better painted.”

He took a few steps closer, sidling up to you, “What’s it supposed to be?”

“A forest,” You pointed to a rotund blob perched on a long line, “That’s an owl, and there’s going to be a fox somewhere down in the grass,”

Charlie grinned, “That’s an owl?”

“That-” you tapped the blob, “Is a shape, objectively. Subjectively, it’s an owl.”

His brow creased, “Subjectively it’s an owl? That's like saying Mister Bearington is a rabbit, subjectively,”

You stared at him, baffled. It was almost irritating that he could so casually come down to your domain and invade your creative bubble. And it was even worse that he talked to himself as a stuffed bear but now he was challenging your judgment on what was and was not subjectively an owl. But he had a wonderful smile and it lessened the intrusion. Plus, you had never seen a teenage boy develop an attachment to a stuffed bear as quickly as he had, “What’s your name?”

“Nuwanda,” He grinned, setting his chin atop his bear’s plush head.

“Nuwanda?” You blinked at him, “That’s… neat. I’ve never heard that before.”

“What can I say? The only Nuwanda this side of Vermont. What’s your name?”

As you opened your mouth to answer several sets of footsteps thundered down the stairs. Knox spun around the corner first, closely followed by Pitts and Meeks.

“Charlie!” Knox called, “We gotta go before Cameron proposes to the clerk.”

You looked at the boy in front of you, “Is Charlie short for Nuwanda, or just a nickname?”

He shrugged, “I’m Nuwanda, subjectively. It was truly a pleasure meeting you. Can’t wait to see your thing DaVinci!” He set the stuffed bear back on the table as he made his way out of the room. With Charlie’s energy gone it became much quieter and you were plunged back into the impressionistic outline of your artwork.

The next time a library trip was suggested Charlie didn’t completely dread it. Yes, it was still numbingly boring because it was a library and he didn’t have clerks to fall in love with, people to write love letters to, anyone to kiss in the aisles, or a spaceship to build, but he did have his own personal Van Gough to torment.

The lower level was the first place he went, not even hanging his coat on the rack inside the big double doors. He made his way past Cameron’s preoccupied receptionist and under Dickens’ hard glower. Halfway down the steps, the smell hit Charlie. Wet paint.

You had just picked out a brush when he pulled one of the wooden chairs next to your station. He sat in it backwards, holding Mister Bearington out in front of him, “Never got your name Monet,”

“Well, it's not that. Or Da Vinci.” You stroked the brush up the grassy outline.

“Do you want me to guess?”

You had yet to look at him, “Nope,”

“Are you gonna tell me?”

“Should I?”

“Obviously, I told you my name.”

You set the brush down and turned to face him, “(Name).”

“Pretty,”

Charlie Dalton liked many things and the musty old library uptown had never been one of them. It had ancient red carpets and gaudy gold ceilings and it was trying too hard to look regal. So it was a sheer shock when he began to leap at the suggestion of going and even more so when he chose to go by himself one afternoon. Naturally, the other poets followed him, they had to.

Charlie didn’t dally upstairs, waving hi to the clerk and rushing down to the children’s section. A sign was posted outside the entrance warning of wet paint but he stepped around it.

“You’re making progress Picasso!” He set his hands on his hips and took in the wall.

You turned back to look at him, “Did you not see the caution: wet paint, do not enter sign?”

“Oh no I saw it,” He pushed his sunglasses up on top of his head, “It's bright orange, hard to miss, really,”

“So you just chose to ignore it?”

He nodded, making his way over to sit by you on the ground, “I choose to ignore lots of things, it really makes life easier,”

You shook your head, “Are you just going to sit here and bother me?”

“Yes, that's actually the whole reason I came today, believe it or not.”

You blubbered in vague disbelief, “Please tell me you’re not serious,”

“Dead serious,” Charlie grinned, leaning closer, “I had to see how your weird owl was going. And also make sure you hadn’t gone mad and cut your own ear off yet,”

“You’ve already used the Van Gogh joke, Charles,”

“Maybe I want your ear,”

You paused, “You… what?”

Charlie’s confidence cracked, “That was bad. Shit, that wasn’t supposed to sound that way. It was like, a bad pickup line? Because Van Gogh cut his ear off to send to his girlfriend,” He sighed, shaking his head, “Sorry,”

“I mean if I had to pick someone to give my ear too I guess you would be my first choice?”

Charlie looked at you, eyebrows pinched together, “Why?”

You shrugged, “No one else has asked, first come first serve.” You dipped your brush back into the blue paint and went to work on a patch of flowers.

“Huh, well I do appreciate it,” Charlie scooted closer, leaning over your shoulder. He was close, very close. When you took a breath you could smell his cologne and whatever it was he used in his hair and you could feel the edge of his sunglasses brush your ear. He brought an arm around to dip his finger into the soft sky colour on your palette. And then he wiped it on your nose.

You gasped sharply at the foreign feeling, snapping your head to the side to glare at him, “Why?!”

Charlie snickered, leaning back, “The opportunity presented itself, how could I just let that pass?”

You reached back, squirting a touch of purple paint over the palm of your hand, “That was truly a horrible idea,”

Charlie shot up just as you did, stumbling backwards, “I’m sorry-” He stuck his hands up in surrender, “I regret my actions and if I could take them back I would,”

“Hmm, but you can’t” You took a step closer, “Surrender now and it doesn’t have to get any messier than this,”

He pointed towards your paint coated hand, “Do not,”

You grinned, “I might,”

“I’m begging,”

“Fine-” You offered him your other hand, “Truce?”

Charlie mulled it over for a moment, “Fine, truce,” He grabbed your clean hand and you used it to pull him towards you.

“Why on earth would you trust me?” You tugged him even closer as he shrieked and smeared your hand down his cheek, “There, now we’re even,”

Getting distracted by your triumph gave Charlie the upper hand. He pulled you to him the same you had done to him and pressed his cheek flush to yours. The paint was cold against your skin and you jolted back, away from him.

“Vile,” You hissed, “You are vile and evil. That's so cold. You will pay, I hope you know that.”

Charlie snorted, “Oh please, what’re you gonna do?”

“You underestimate me, you ass, I’ll figure something out,”

“Will you?” Charlie grinned, “I will be waiting in anticipation,”

“You better be,”

Meeks elbowed back into Cameron’s ribs, “You’re going to knock me over,”

Cameron craned his neck further to peek around the corner into the children’s section, “I just want to see, let me look,”

“Nothing is happening-” Meeks snipped, “They’re just talking now and I might be able to hear if you could can it!”

Cameron rolled his eyes, “Of course, whatever you say,”

“Will you shut up?” Knox batted at Cameron’s shoulder, “They’ll see us, we’re not super well hidden,”

“If you don’t stop talking they’ll realize we’re here,” Pitts mumbled, rolling his eyes. Cameron started to rebuttal, turning to look at Gerard but the motion knocked Meeks out of place and he gasped, stumbling forwards. This did indeed draw Charlie’s attention.

“Meeks, what the hell?” Charlie snapped. He was in a state, sunglasses askew in his hair, paint smeared from his cheekbone down to the corner of his mouth, and his shirt was wrinkled away from his collarbone.

Meeks stared, “Hi Charlie. Are there any textbooks down here, uh… the science ones?”

Knox groaned, stepping out from behind the wall as well, “We wanted to see why you came here on a Tuesday afternoon by yourself,”

Charlie blubbered, “Did you all come? Is Keating there too?”

“He could be,” Meeks shrugged.

Charlie rolled his eyes, “Will you leave, I’ll be upstairs in a second,” The other poets nodded, scampering up the steps to the first level.

“Assholes, should have known they’d come,” Charlie sighed, adjusting the sunglasses atop his head, “I need to go before they decide to intrude again. I’ll see you soon though, anxiously anticipating payback,”

He was almost out the door when you bucked up the courage to call out to him, “Charlie, wait.” You let him turn back to you before continuing, “Could I have your phone number?”

He clicked his teeth, “Don’t have one, private school. But I’ll find the library number in the books and try to shoot you a call sometime,” He winked and started back up to his friends.

Knox was waiting at the landing with a handful of tissues, which he shoved into Charlie’s hands, “So you’re gonna read your stupid poem about tits at a Dead Poets meet and then not tell us you’ve got a girlfriend?”

Charlie grabbed the tissues, “Not my girlfriend, I meet her like two weeks ago,”

“Didn’t stop Knox,” Neil elbowed him.

Charlie wiped at his face, “Well I’m not Knox. I like her painting, she's good.”

“It looks like she was painting you,” Cameron slapped at Charlie’s chest and he threw the tissues at him in retaliation.

“Shut up, at least my library worker actually talks to me,”

Cameron fumbled with the dirty material, batting it away from his chest, “You dick!”

Charlie grinned, pulling his glasses down and starting towards the door. Something about it was thrilling, having this to himself. A little secret that he and you shared. His personal Salvador Dalí, something to look forwards to besides bad tobacco and Keating’s eccentric lectures. It was bright and exciting and he felt seen. He felt important. The blue paint he had stolen from your tray was still on the tip of his pointer finger and he wondered how long it would be until he could see you again.

( @interwebseriesfan24 )

#dead poets society #charlie dalton #charlie dalton x reader #charlie dalton imagine #dead poets society x reader #dead poets society imagine #its the way this tried to crash my computer #also peep the new format #dedicated to everyone who said theyd read if i posted dps #enjoy!#dps #lennie writes

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mellowyandere · 3 years

Text

SCP Academia Containment Breach

Reader: F

Characters: Aizawa Shouta (main); Shigaraki Tomura

Rating: M

Summary: Dr. L/N tries to find somewhere safe during a containment breach.

Length: 1604 words

Warning: Yandere, mentions of death, mild dub-con/non-con.

Hurried footsteps carried you down the dim hallway. The only light source coming from the red alarms periodically placed along the corridor. Sirens blared overhead as you clutched your files closer to your body.

CONTAINMENT BREACH. ALERT CONTAINMENT BREACH. ALL PERSONNEL REPORT TO YOUR DESIGNATED SAFE ZONE.

KNOWN ESCAPED SCPS INCLUDE…

You listened as the automated message listed off a series of varying classed SCP’s, straining to hear if any of them were assigned to you. If you made it through this alive maybe you’d consider resigning. They say memory wipes aren’t so bad.

No, you couldn’t leave. You had seen the way SCP’s were treated, you couldn’t abandon the few you were in charge of. Leaving them behind to someone cruel just didn’t sit right with you.

You were approaching a four way intersection in the compound, you’d need to take a left if you wanted to get to his enclosure. A rather interesting male humanoid SCP you had dubbed “Eraserhead”. You were too far away from any safe zones, he was your only bet at survival.

Reaching the intersection you moved to turn left before stopping dead in your tracks. Guttural screams and snarls echoed down the poorly lit hallway. It sounded as if some SCP’s were fighting, and since you didn’t know if Eraserhead had breached containment you didn’t want to test your luck and end up dead.

To your right gunshots and more screaming discouraged you from going that way. You’d have to go straight, or back the way you came. Behind you was a dead end in the facility, that being your small section for testing and personal office. You’d be screwed if anything came down that way and cornered you, so you decided to go straight.

You were running now, panting as you attempted to fill your lungs with oxygen as you descended further into the foundation, away from your zone of expertise. As you progressed deeper into the facility the sounds of gun shots and screaming became quieter. Even the overhead message had ceased playing, leaving only the blinking lights of the alarms to illuminate your path.

Squinting as you ran you saw a form slumped over on the ground. Honestly you don’t really know how you had managed to make it this far without bumping into anyone else. Running up to them you recognized the uniform they were wearing. A Class-D Personnel. Humans typically on death row, brought here instead to die some cruel and unusual way all in the name of science.

You slowed down as you approached their body, intent on checking if they were alive but stopping just before you fully reached them. Their head and arms were completely missing, but there were no traces of blood. Instead, black ash surrounded them, as if their body parts had been reduced to dust. Unfortunately for you, you knew exactly who the culprit was.

Your hairs stood on end as a raspy cackle sounded above you.

“Ahhh Dr. L/N, you weren’t supposed to see that.”

You jumped back from the corpse, yelping and dropping your files. The papers scattered all over the floor. You looked up to see one of your assigned SCP’s smiling down at you, sharp teeth seemingly glowing despite the dim light of the hallway. Curse this stupid power outage, you didn’t even see him.

“De.. Decay what are you doing here..” you mumbled the nickname you had given him pathetically as you began to step further back. As if it was even possible his grin grew wider, chapped lips cracking as his red eyes squinted in delight.

“No need to be afraid little human, you’ve always been so good to me. I’d never dream of hurting you.” With that he fell down from the ceiling with a thud. Standing up to his full height he opened all six of his arms, as if inviting you in for a hug. His blue hair fell messily over part of his face.

“In fact I was just on my way to find you! Thank you for saving me the trouble…” He began to shuffle closer, slowly approaching your smaller frame as if you’d bolt at any second. Which, to be fair, you would have if you believed you stood a chance.

“Me? Why on Earth were you looking for me?” you asked while frozen in place as he continued to approach. If any of his hands got five fingers on you, you were in for a bad time.

“You’re kidding right?” he questioned. “All humans do is poke and probe at me, treat me like shit, hurt me, experiment on me,” he snarled. “But you…” he continued in a softer tone, his hands reaching out for you. “You talk to me, make sure I’m okay. Treat me like I fucking mean something… like I exist. Such a sweet little human… but you’re always behind that stupid glass. Glass I can’t fucking decay. But now I’m free. No, no, I won’t hurt you. I want to touch you.. I want..”

The SCP stopped mid sentence, his eyes taking on a far more sinister appearance as he snarled at the space behind you. He lunged for you, desperate to get you in his arms. Suddenly, something wrapped around your waist and you couldn’t help but scream as you were quickly dragged away from the six armed creature. Your back crashed into a broad chest as black tendrils violently whipped around the hallway.

“GIVE HER BACK!” The creature rushed forwards fully intent on dusting the bastard who dared to take you away. His hands wrapped around the tendrils, ready to plow straight through. Much to his surprise nothing happened, except him violently being thrown back.

Bright red eyes cut through the darkness of the hallway, penetrating the fallen creatures own red orbs.

“Back off or I’ll kill you.” A deep voice rumbled against your back.

“Eraserhead!” you exclaimed in relief. While Decay was known to turn anyone who got to close to ash with violent outbursts, the SCP behind you was far calmer in nature. That didn’t make him any less dangerous, but between the two you’d pick him any day.

“Dr. L/N will be coming with me. If you know what’s good for you, you won’t follow.”

Decay hissed in anger but backed down. Eraserhead had a far larger stature than the other male. With his tendrils filling the hallway, as well as the inability to currently dust the man, the extra arms made no real difference in a battle.

“You best watch your back… you and I both know I’m not the most dangerous thing around here…” With that the blue hair creature slunk down the hallway, off to go decay whatever was unfortunate enough to cross his path.

You released a breath you didn’t even realize you were holding and slumped backwards against Eraserhead.

“Thank you, you really saved me aha,” you nervously chuckled. Craning your head back you peered up at the large male, his bloodshot eyes gazing down at you. The tendrils filling the hallway retreated back into his form, large black lines that almost resembled scars housed them all over his body.

“You shouldn’t have left your area, I would have come to you. Others momentarily got in the way, but not anymore.” With that he scooped you up. You squeaked out in surprise as he carried you bridal style in his arms. You were too exhausted to fight against his decision to carry you.

“That rectangular piece of plastic you use to enter and exit my area, where is it?” The creature asked.

“My key card? In my pocket where it always is, why would you need it? You’re already out.”

“There are still doors I can’t open without it, and we’re not out enough. It’s not safe here. I need to take you somewhere safe for us to nest.”

You gawked a bit at his statement “Wait, nest? What are you talking about? You can’t get all the way out this facility, it’s impossible. Look, let's just go back to my office and lie low I promise I won’t let them hurt you.”

The creature couldn’t help but scoff at your remark. “Little one, I’m far stronger than I appear. I’m taking you out of here to protect and mate, and with your key card we can open any door we need… you said so yourself a couple months back. Full access level 5 whatever.”

At this you began to struggle a bit. Mating? Nesting? What the hell was he going on about.

“Eraserhead no. I don’t understand, but we can’t leave.”

The tall figure sighed, as if he was merely reprimanding a child. “I didn’t want to do this but I need your full cooperation. Don’t worry, next time you see me we’ll be somewhere safe my little human.”

With that he leaned down and latched his mouth onto your own. You cried out in shock, and he took advantage of your surprise to slip his long appendage into your mouth. He threaded his hand into your hair and slotted your head back, and soon enough you felt hot liquid begin to seep down your throat.

Your struggling increased, small fists pounding against his chest. You had no idea he was even capable of doing this, what the hell was going on! The longer he held you there the sooner you realized you had no choice but to swallow the warm fluid. Satisfied that you finally drank it he pulled back and you desperately gasped for air. Your vision became hazy, until finally you fell limp in his arms.

#aizawa shouta x reader #aizawa x reader #yandere aizawa #yandere shouta aizawa #tw: dubcon #bnha aizawa #aizawa x you #SCP Academia #yandere eraserhead #aizawa #aizawa shouta #tw: noncon

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sashi-ya · 3 years

Note

hiiii <3 i adore literally everything you write🥰💕 but i’ve literally been obsessed with the eustass x reader smut i requested “yes master”!! it’s one of my fave ever eustass smuts💗💗💘

i was wondering if you could could do a part two for it! with similar prompts to last time, you can expand on this if you want!!💗💗

thank you!!! keep up the amazing work <3

Hi!! I'm so glad you like it omg 🙈!! I hope you like this as much as the first one! Thank u so much for your sweet words darling! 💗 ~

NSFW ~ PART 2 ~ Eustass Captain Kid x F! Reader ~ Yes, Master.

TW: Master/Slave dynamic, usage of toys, Impact play, Rough sex, kind of public sex, vaginal sex, face fuck, cum marking, choking, hair pulling. Kind of fluffy ending? haha

A/N: This is the second part for the fic "Yes, Master" of the Spicy Week Event.

WC: 1.7K

Since the first time Kidd and you had a session, he hasn’t had a new sub. And that felt amazing. You have travelled around the country with the band, and there hasn’t been a single night you two didn’t fuck like crazy. You usually session on the back of the bar where they had their concerts, or even on the bus when the rest of the members weren’t there.

Yet you are all on a long, long trip across the country this time, it would take at least three days to take to the other part and even if Kidd doesn’t really care about privacy, with you, is different. The singer of Punk Rotten might be reckless and all of that, but he wouldn’t like the others to hear or even see you enjoying the pleasures of lust…

Heat, the driver of the so called “Victoria Punk” trailer announces that you need gas so he enters into an isolated gas station in the middle of the night. There are no more than two gas pumps, a little store -that looks pretty abandoned- and a few yellow lights buzzing and surrounded by bugs flying around.

“Ah God, I needed to stretch my legs!” says your Master while descending the little bus. You are always next to him, almost like a little puppy following him -and that was actually your job there, but you loved it-.

“Oi, wanna go see inside the store?” Kidd tells you. You nod and follow him who has snatched your arm and is pulling you towards the little shop.

“Good evening!” an old man salutes you. You bow your head a little while Kidd's strong voice salutes him back. Everything over there is covered by a fine cape of dust, meaning the food is probably expired or at least on the verge of it.

“Oi, old-man, do you have something to drink?” asks Kidd. “Of course, sir” says the old man and points towards an old refrigerator. Some cans of beer you haven’t seen before on display, and a can of coke is what is left. Yet it seems enough for your master, so he grabs the cans and takes them to the counter. “You like coke, right?” Kidd tells you, worried for you. He genuinely cares about you even though he might look tough.

“Yes, Master. I like it” you answer obediently while squeezing the little bag you have crossed over your body. “Son, you better treat that sweet angel right there better” says the shop owner to him. Kidd looks at him with fire in his eyes, he actually really cares about you but he is not showing that to some random stranger. “Shut the hell up, old man. Keep the change and tell me please where the hell is the bathroom” he says. The man takes the money, smiles at you subtly and tells you the bathroom is at the back of the store.

Kidd opens the can for you and hands it to you, he then opens a beer and starts drinking it savagely. “Let’s go to the bathroom” he says while dragging you. You spill some of the drink over your t-shirt and follow him stumbling.

You both enter the men bathroom. It looks old, but clean. No one has been there in some time so you don’t have to worry about some unpleasant smells whatsoever. “I know it is the men's bathroom, but I’m not risking you being all alone on the other side in the middle of the night” says Kidd to you, and you are certainly pleased. There is no more than loneliness and darkness behind the place. The countryside could be scary during the night.

“You can go to the stall if you need to use the bathroom” says Kidd pointing at a green wooden box. “Yes, Master. Thank you” you say and enter the stall. After the both of you have released their bladders, you hear the water run and finally get out. “I’m ready, Master” you tell him with a subtle smile.

Kidd looks at you, and a side grin forms on his face. You know that face, and that means sex, rough sex, right now. “Well, I’m not ready, little Slave” he says, approaching you and lifting your chin up. You giggle nervously. As much as you like being fucked by him, it’s always a little intimidating…

“Do you, have it?” he asks you. “Yes, Master. I do…” you tell him and search on your little bag. You take out a bright pink little vibrator that Kidd has requested you to take in your purse every time and show it to him. “Good girl” he says and first caresses your cheek and then slaps it softly, twice. You moan at the gentle impact and wait for your Master’s orders.

“Shorts out” he commands. You do as he tells and stand there in an almost abandoned bathroom in the middle of nowhere. “Stick that vibrator in for master”.

You gently stick the fuschia toy into your entrance and let the little rubbery tail hang outside. Kidd walks up to you and takes your oversized shirt off. “Ugh those pretty tits” he grunts and squeezes one at a time.

The quivering of the toy starts making you squirm a little. “What’s wrong little slave? you can’t stand still, huh?” he says and takes his hand over your throat. “Did I tell you to move?” ... “N-no master, I’m sorry” you excuse yourself perfectly knowing that he takes no explanation.

“On your knees” he orders you, letting your already finger marked throat off. Your knees quickly hit the cold tales of the bathroom and your hands over your thighs, expectant. Kidd lowers down his zipper and his yellow pants fall into the ground. His big member out, menacing but tempting. You stick your tongue out, because he tells you so -even though there is absolutely no need of him ordering that, you love the taste of his dick so much you want to devour it every time-

The vibrator keeps working inside you, stimulating your G point, while Kid fucks your throat, mercilessly. Your hair tangled on his fingers for a better grip, while the deadly motion of his hips makes you gag. Tears running from the corner of your eyes, you gasping for air, and your core dripping wet.

The tip of his dick stretches your cheek while he pushes it from inside, the bulge forming on your face, and his big hand slapping over it several times. You moan, you whine. Kidd notices the ground under you getting wet by the arousal liquids of your incoming orgasm and tells you “Oh no no, are you already cumming? Did I give you permission to do so?”. “I’m… I’m sorry master I-I…” you mumble with his dick still inside your mouth. “Nah, no excuses Slave… You have to be punished, you know?” he says and you close your eyes anticipating what’s next. Kidd reaches your pussy and pulls from the rubbery string that hangs from the vibrator. The feeling of the little egg getting out and stretching your walls as it slides off makes you whine, loudly.

When the vibrator is out, and your orgasm has been denied, Kidd shouts “Look at me!”. You open your eyes and fix them on his. “Open your mouth” he commands and starts jerking off violently.

Grunts and manly moans escape his mouth while he reaches climax, bathing your face with his cum. You accept it gladly, a sticky warm love seed that covers not only your tongue, but also your profile and drips into your chest from your mandible.

“There you go, little slave. You look so good covered with my cum it’s almost not a punishment” he says while slowly stops the pumping motion on his dick. “Thank you, master” you tell him, smiling, tasting the sperm on your lips. “That smile, you little pervert bitch. I’m so glad you are my slave…” he says and lifts you up from your arm.

Kidd takes you to one of the three sinks and opens the tab. Cold water splashes on your face as he cleans it from his cum. “As much as I love your face covered in my jizz, it’s time to clean that up” he says. Then, your chest. The freezing cold water in contrast with the warm night makes you shiver a little, especially when it touches your nipples.

“Mhh, master…” you whine. “You like that, huh? you little bitch” he says and twists one of your already hard nipples. Once again, your moaning turns him on, and his dick is ready for another round.

“Come here, little bitch” Kidd says, and pushes you over the countertop. Your cheek pressed against the cold wet granite and your entrance perfectly aligned to be penetrated with no mercy. And that’s exactly what your master does. He doesn’t wait, your cunt dripping wet expecting to be filled by his dick drives him crazy.

Violent thrusts in and out of you, so deep inside you can feel your guts being pressed up. Spanks hit your ass repeatedly, leaving red marks that soon will turn into purple ones. Your legs turn weaker and weaker, and your bodyweight is only held by your belly pressing over the countertop as your climax is approaching.

Rolling back eyes, shivers running on your spine, degrading words by your master and violent thrusts pressing your g spot makes you finally reach the peak of pleasure. “M-master… can I… can I come??” you ask, begging him to let you finish. Kidd laughs maliciously and finally says “Cum for me, slave”. With a last deep thrust, you release the pressure forming over your lower stomach. Your whine probably was heard over the whole countryside, but you don’t really care, nor does Kidd. He finishes too, filling you up with his warm seed until you feel your womb almost exploding.

“Good slave, take it all inside for your Master” he says and bends over you, planting a sweet kiss on your cheek. It’s the first time he does it, and you can’t help but feel a hundred butterflies flying inside you… ♥ ~

#eustass kidd #eustass kid imagine #eustass kid x you #eustass kid x reader #eustass kid #eustasscaptainkid #n.s.f.w.#one piece fanfiction #one piece x you #one piece x reader #one piece x y/n #one piece x oc #one piece kid #kid one piece #kid pirates #spicy week event #sashi ya #one piece #eustass x reader

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mrsnegan · 3 years

Text

Trapped

[Disclaimer: This was my first Negan fic ever, originally posted to AO3, my name's LadyMiddlefinger there. I wanted to share this with you here too, so enjoy this smut fest, haha. 😁]

---

„Great. Just fucking great!“ I stomped loudly with my foot, unable to stop myself from making no sound. This situation was so fucked up, I just couldn’t believe I got myself into this kind of hell.

„Are you fucking crazy? Stop the damn noise or you’re gonna kill us,“ Negan said through gritted teeth. I could tell he was furious with me. In another situation I would've been afraid of him. But now, well, now I was just mad. At myself. At him. At the damn dead fucks outside of our hiding place. An abandoned gas station, or better said, the back room of it. Secured by a heavy locker Negan had knocked over.

I tried hard to calm myself down, I really did. My breathing was so loud I couldn’t form a coherent thought. We had been on a raid, Negan, myself and a few other Saviors. We had looked for food, gas and other supplies, exploring the area south from the usual route. And then those walkers, a big fucking horde of them, crossed our way. I had no idea how many of us were alive still. I was lucky enough that Negan grabbed my hand and dragged me with him, inside of this place. But now we were trapped. And I wasn’t so sure I really wanted to be trapped with the big bad wolf. Even if I liked working for Negan, he most of the time scared the shit out of me.

„Are you getting off or why do you breath so fucking loud?“ I heard him whisper. I bet Negan had one of those arrogant smirks painted across his face. It was so dark in this room, no window, no light, so I couldn’t see him in all his cocky glory. I rolled my eyes at this thought and his comment alike.

„No, damn you, I’m in panic because we’re stuck here, surrounded by death itself. And it’s fucking dark.“

I heard his leather jacket rustle with his movement. He seemed to make a few steps in my direction, I could make out his frame if I concentrated enough.

„OK doll, so here’s the deal. I will hold you for a bit so you can calm down. And you won’t kill us by freaking the fuck out. The only thing you have to do is shut the fuck up. And don’t tell a soul I hugged you. Understood?“

His voice was deep, bearly above a whisper. Was he serious? Big bad Negan hugging me so I could calm down? This must be a joke of him.

„No shit here, I’m as serious as it gets. I won’t ask again“, he added. I heard him put Lucille down and waited a few more seconds before I whispered a shaky „OK“.

Without hesitation, Negan stepped forward some more, closing his strong arms around me. I hugged him back, inhaling his musky smell of blood, sweat, leather and his usual cologne. He was warm, his heart seemed to beat just a tad faster than usual. He calmed me instantly, I was surprised myself.

We stood there for long moments, breathing in, breathing out. As my heartbeat felt steady enough to speak again. „I never thought you would be a soft guy deep down“, I murmured into his chest.

Immediately he let go of me, though his hands remained on my shoulder, squeezing a bit harder than necessary.

„Excuse the shit outta me? Damn it, I wanted to be a decent guy and you make fun of me. Not cool, sweetheart. Besides…I’m anything but a soft guy. Deep. Down“, Negan whispered back though gritted teeth, emphasizing his words with shallow thrusts of his hips. Damn, since when did this situation turn into…this direction?

I swallowed heavily before speaking again.

„Calm down, Negan. This was meant as a compliment. I liked you hugging me.“ My voice trembled a bit and gave away what I felt. Deep. Down.

„Yeah, I bet you did. You always love to be near me, yeah? Shit, why would you even volunteer in the first place to come with us?“

My eyes, finally used to the dark in this damn locked room, roamed over his face. He looked mischievous, his famous smirk on point, eyes darker than usual. I felt my cheeks turn redder while he stared at me.

„I… I wanted to help, not just sit around like your stupid wives do.“ Shit, this sounded bitter, jealous even. The last thing I wanted him to think of me.

His fingers loosened the grip on my shoulders a bit while he tried to suppress a hearty laugh.

„You are shit at lying, you know that, right? So, Miss Jealous Mealous, why don’t we get this“, he gestured with his hands between us in the air, „out of the way? We need to hide some more until those dead fucks have vanished. If you promise me to keep quiet, I could definitely proof to you how hard our little banter got me. And I bet you’re fucking wet for me, am I right, sweetheart? I can practically smell you. You need to get out of your tight pants and onto my cock, hmm?“

I gasped at his dirty words, he left me speechless. And not only because I wasn’t used to his attention. Also because he was right and I hated myself for getting this turned on this fast.

„Oho, I‘m right, I always am. That’s why I’m the boss.“

„Shut up, Negan.“

„Make me.“

This was enough. I snapped, crashing my body against his strong frame. I needed to get on my tip toes to reach his lips, but when I finally kissed him, God, it was with need I haven’t felt in such a long time. He kissed me back with equal fervor, fighting for the upper hand, nipping at my lower lip. He kissed so sensual and dominant, my knees got weak in an instant. My arms slid around his neck, pressing him down some more while my fingers tried to grab at his leather jacket. And his hands, well…they slid down, down, down, over my ass, up again, before settling on my hips with a possive grip, pulling my center into his crotch.

„Yeah, that’s all for you“, he teased, breathing in some well needed air. „Do you want to touch me, darling? Suck me? Or do you need a hand first…or my mouth? I’m in for all of it.“

With that, his lips descended to nibble at my pulse point, eliciting a low moan out of my throat.

„Touch me“, I whispered, breath hitching when he bit down slightly.

„What was that? I didn’t hear you.“

That bastard…

„I said, touch me, Negan, like you mean it.“

He still didn’t do more than drive me crazy with his mouth and tongue on my neck, so I moaned again and added a desperate „please“.

„That’s what I like to hear“, Negan rasped and backed me into the desk that was located behind me. I sat down immediately and he stepped between my legs.

„Tell me, sweetheart, do you like it vanilla or kinky? I don’t wanna scare the shit outta you, if you know what I mean.“

„For fuck’s sake, do I look like a doll or what?“

That’s when he couldn’t suppress a raspy laugh, getting rid of my trousers simultaneously.

„Yeah, more like a wild cat, ready to swallow me whole“, he winked, pulling my trousers over my legs.

Ugh, I hated his bad jokes. Why did he always have to be so sly?

„I will scratch you if you don’t let go of those sly comments“, I taunted.

„Please do, I can handle getting rough.“

„Do you? Or do you just have a big mouth?“

„Oh, you don’t know what you’re asking for.“

Negan grinned, gripping for my underwear and tearing it off in one swift motion.

I gasped at his boldness and moaned shortly afterwards when his fingers dipped through my folds.

„My oh my, like I’ve said, you’re wet as hell for big old Negan.“

His fingers played with my wetness, teasing me with light touches. Finally he relented and stroked my clit in tight circles, making me buck against his hand.

„So responsive, fuck. That’s so hot.“

It took only moments for him to use his long middle finger to sink into my heat, followed by a second one.

„Oh God“, I moaned, apparently a bit too loud for Negan’s taste. His fingers were gone again in an instant.

„What did I tell you? Be quiet or this little freaky deaky won’t be happening.“

I nodded, unable to say a word.

„Good girl“. He fleshed his teeth and continued his ministrations. He drove me insane with his fingers which he curled in a perfect manner, in and out, faster when I bucked against him, deeper when my eyes closed out if pure bliss.

Only a few precise thrusts later, I tipped over the edge. My moans were swallowed by his hot mouth while his fingers fucked me through my orgasm.

Then they were gone and I opened my eyes again…to the unmistakable dirty image of him licking them clean with a sinister smirk plastered on his lips.

„Oh girl, I need to get a taste from the source real soon. But now I think it’s time for you to thank me for that mind-blowing orgasm of yours, don’t you think?“

„Well, thank you then“, I breathlessly reply.

„That won’t do, no, no. You have to thank me properly.“

My eyes burned a hole into his face, though I couldn’t deny how needy I still was for him.

So I slid down from the desk, well aware of the fact that his eyes followed my movements. I stepped forward and lowered myself to my knees right in front of him. His belts were undone one by one, I made sure to do it slowly and hoped to drive him insane too. Two can play this game.

When his trousers were down his legs, his rock hard cock sprung free. My mouth watered despite my efforts to keep as desinterested as possible.

I grapped him at the base, lightly, before I placed a soft kiss to the head. That was when I heard him moan above me and felt his hand in my hair.

„If you keep torturing me like this I will have to fuck your pretty mouth. So what’s it going to be?“

The head of his cock slipped into my mouth and I began to suck, still not passionate enough for him to find satisfaction.

„Alright, I did warn ya.“

With that he pushed his hips forward, entering my mouth with one swift thrust. I slightly gagged at the intrusion but, and that’s what really disturbed me the most, I got even wetter by being used this way.

„Uhh, darling, relax around me, let me fuck your throat like the dirty girl you are.“

I moaned around him which let him grow harder still. His hand in my hair guided me up and down while his hips kept a steady pace. I bobbed my head too, maybe to show him how needy I was, maybe to gain back a bit more control. I enjoyed this treatment nonetheless.

„Yeah. Just like that, swallow around me.“

I did as he said, looking up to see his eyes glued to my face, mouth hanging open slightly. I couldn’t help but whine around him, not used to being this turned on.

He pulled out then, leaving me gasping for air. One single strand of salvia connected his cock with my lips and just this little detail made me so damn wet.

„Up. Now“, he commanded and I happily obliged.

He stripped himself off his jacket and shirt. His boots were next before he stepped out of his trousers.

I drank him in from head to toe, pulling my own shirt over my head and getting rid of my bra. I wanted to feel his skin against mine.

„You have gorgeous tits, do you know that?“ His voice sounded raw and made me feel all tingly and warm.

He stepped towards me, grabbing both my breasts with his hands, kneeding them. I couldn’t hold back my moan when he pinched my nipples, his mouth claiming mine in a heated kiss.

We tumbled back to the desk, but this time he turned me around and bent me over.

In anticipation of what he had in store I spread my legs for him, waiting for him to enter me. And enter me he did. His cock slid into my cunt in one swift motion and stretched me to the edge.

„Fuckity fuck, you are so incredibly tight“, he commented. I didn’t know if I wanted him to shut the fuck up or continue to torment me with his foul mouth.

His first thrusts were controlled, precise movements which drove me crazy and seemed to push all the right buttons.

„Ohh…fffuck“, I moaned when he suddenly increased the pace and drove into me harder and faster than before. My heart felt like bursting at any moment. I could hear our skin slapping with each movement, I could smell my wetness, his musky sweat. His little grunts drove me mad with lust while his hands on my hips pulled me against him with every forward motions. I had no other choice than to brace myself against the desk and try to match his torturous pace.

„Ahh shit, I need to look at your pretty face“, he exclaimed and pulled out.

The sudden emptiness felt strange, so I whined while he turned me around again, positioning me on the desk. He kissed me like a starving man while he pushed into me again. We moaned into each other’s mouths, continuing where we left off, foreheads pressed against each other.

After a while I couldn’t keep up the upright position, so I layed back, giving Negan full control.

„Beautiful. You look like a fucking piece of art“, he complimented me.

His right hand wandered to my breasts again, squeezing, pinching, kneeding. Then I felt his fingers dancing around my clit, applying some pressure, circling it, pinching it lightly. I completely lost it when I felt his middle finger joining his cock, stretching me further and further. He pumped his finger in tune with his cock in and out of my cunt while his thumb drew tight circles around my clit.

„Oh fuck, Negan…“

„Shh, be quiet“, he taunted. He leaned towards me some more so he could press his left hand over my mouth.

My hands clawed at his arms as his movements turned rougher above me. I couldn’t keep my eyes open as this blissful wave began to build inside of me. I had no other choice than to moan into his hand while he fucked me into oblivion.

„Fucking look at me, look at me while you cum…and… don’t you dare…closing your eyes.“

My eyes shot open in an instant and I lost myself in his gaze. Negan drove himself furiously into me, reaching all the right spots with his forceful thrusts while his finger did the same, stretching me, fucking me. It took a few more seconds before I couldn‘t take the building tension anymore and came around his cock. I screamed into his hand as my eyes were fixed on his.

„Fucking…shit…“, he exclaimed in a low voice and pulled out shortly afterwards. He pumped himself to completion and came with low grunts on my lower stomach and cunt.

It was so hot in this damn room, particularly after our coupling, so we tried to calm and cool us down by leaning against each other, not moving, just breathing.

„Hell, sweetheart, who knew you had such a delicious…“

„Don’t you dare saying it, Negan“, I taunted but he wouldn’t listen. Of course not. He was Negan.

„…pussy.“ His grin spread over his handsome face. He looked relaxed and absolutely glorious with that sweat across his muscular body.

„The next time something like this happens, I will let you pay, you smug bastard“, I retorted with a smile on my face.

„Oh I can’t wait, sweetheart. I can’t fucking wait. But for now, let’s get outta here and bash in some walker‘s heads.“

---

Tag list: @iluvneganandjamie

#jeffrey dean morgan #negan #negan smut #negan fic #negan fanfiction #negan x ofc

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lupically · 3 years

Text

#97DB88 | BENNETT.

genre | angst, (unofficially) soulmate au

word count | 1885

warning | none

note | hello anon (ˊ•͈ ◡ •͈ˋ) thank you so much for requesting! i hope this is what you are going for (even though... soulmate aus are usually more fluff than angst...)!

request | from anon

the portal stood in the middle of the storm, swirling, haunting, tempting.

the stormterror had descended without a warning, creating a massive storm in mondstadt that was impossible to miss even from miles away. you and bennett were lucky enough to have been able to head back behind city walls before the wind barrier took over and created a dome around the living space.

it was not safe inside the city, but compared to being stranded outside, you two would much rather be with the others on the inside.

your first plan was to find fischl just in case that girl would get herself stuck in some trouble. you two made it past the stairs, which took some mighty effort because of the strong whirlwind, and you were about to follow bennett and head to one of the residential buildings when a familiar fight caught the corner of your eye.

you stopped to take a closer look at it.

a portal.

no, not just any portal.

it was the same portal that appeared on the roof of your apartment building back on earth, it was the same portal you recklessly entered before you found yourself in mondstadt, your body hitting the head of an unfortunate boy you have now come to know as a loyal friend.

clutching your fists together, you huffed out a breath of immense disbelief as you glared at the blue-black object.

you, and bennett, have been through heaven and hell trying to find a way back to where you belong. for a while, after all the errors and failures, you had even thought about waving your earthly life a farewell and simply settling in mondstadt for the rest of your life.

the thought of staying in mondstadt was not too bad of an idea, of course. the future you could pursue in teyvat with a vision and a sword was infinitely more interesting and exciting than the future you could have chased on earth with a textbook and a degree.

not to mention your friendship with bennett was surely an irreplaceable one. you two have ventured into dark forests together, solved ancient puzzles, and held your hands through dungeons with each other. but, most importantly, whenever night flows and you two would giggle in his bedroom, with you sleeping on his bed and him laying on a mattress set on the ground just next to it.

you have shared nights with him for so long now, you were unsure if you could ever fill the hole of his shape in your earth bedroom.

but, still, you could never abandon the thought of leaving your family and your friends behind; people who have raised and loved you, as well as people you grew up with. your heart would not let you forget the memories you have made with them. whenever you are close to giving up, reminiscence brushes past your body and brings you the smell of your mother's smell and the sound of your best friend's laugher.

ah... just when you thought you were returning home again, here you were, standing before the gateway back to earth in the middle of a dragon's tantrum. if you had plans to go back to earth now, this would be your chance.

flashes of your childhood memories occupied your mind as you took a brave step forward, then another, and another. visions of your friends and your family flooded into your head as you made your way against the stormterror's wind; you were smiling and thinking about the exciting reunion with your pets, or even the disbelieving looks you would get from your best friend when you tell them about mondstadt, about teyvat, about archons and dragons.

just a few more steps and you would be home. just a few more—

"[name]!"

a hand curled around your wrist and halted your movement. you turned around immediately, your gaze shaking with returning light when you found bennett behind you.

he has his hand up to his face, a poor attempt to block out the wind that continuously blew dust and air into his squinted eyes. looking at you, his gaze was nothing short of urgent. "what are you doing? we should head home and take cover! we can't fight the stormterror!"

"i... bennett... i found..." you looked at him, then you nudged your head behind your shoulder at the blazing portal, "the portal... i found the portal..."

he stared at you for a second. his eyes moved between you and the oval-shaped portal emitting vividly behind you. the gears turned in his head before, against all odds that burned in his chest, he perked up and tightened his grip on your wrist excitedly.

"the portal!" he exclaimed, his eyes deadly focused on the floating object. "like the one we have been looking for? the one that can send you home?"

"yeah." you nodded.

"that's good, isn't it? we have been searching for it for so long!" he said, shaking your arm excitedly as the concept of departure took its sweet time to settle in his head. "you can go home!"

you softened. "i can go home."

you felt a heavy churning in your stomach as soon as you saw bennett—the first person you met on this unthinkable journey. albeit you actually dropped onto him when you fell from the sky so the first encounter was against both of your will, he was still your first friend in teyvat, and he has stuck with you ever since.

your journey together replayed like an adventure movie in your head. his willingness to look for an exit with you, his selflessness in choosing to take care of you, his protectiveness whenever you both encounter danger along the way—bennett has truly been the kindest to you, and you weren't sure if you could deal with missing him when you leave.

as if he could read your mind (you would not be surprised if he actually could), bennett flashed you a bright smile—always, always a bright smile—as he took your hands in his carefully and held it before his chest. there was laugher in his voice, a form of boyish relaxation that only he would be able to exude underneath the wrath of his unfortunate destiny.

"now, now! you better not be hesitating about going back home, [name]!" he said in a scolding manner. "as much as i want you to stay in mondstadt with me, i don't think i can be selfish enough to hold you back from being with your family again."

"well, i for one know that... if the situation is reversed and i was in your family's shoes..." he hummed and rolled his eyes up in thought, then he returned to his grin. "it would be great that you met new friends somewhere else, but ultimately, i would still want you to come back home, so i think your parents may be thinking the same thing too!"

you pursed your lips together.

you knew he was just saying it to make you feel better about wanting to leave. you knew him just as much as he knew you, and you could read him just as clearly as he could read him.

there was a glassy plain of tears before his eyes, wobbling in front of the beautiful jade windows. he was not smiling with his eyes, either, like he always does whenever he was with you.

it took minimal cues for you to understand that it was straining him to pretend as if he was happy and dandy about you going home, but somehow he kept on the happy facade even though it was tearing him to shreds.

because bennett saw in your hesitation that you were not having trouble deciding because you wanted to be with him more than you wanted to go home, but because you were worried that he would be left alone after your departure. it was not because of him, personally, that you felt reluctant, and that alone was enough for bennett to let you go.

if you had hesitated because you wanted to be with him, he would have fought for you to stay with all he could. but you didn't, he could see; even though you two were so close, even though the proximity of your souls were vivid and warm, there was a more familiar home for you somewhere else.

bennett only wanted you to be comfortable and happy back where you could feel like you belong. if it was eath that could provide it, he can let you go. he can do that.

"you're not leaving me alone, [name]," he said, "so don't worry. i'll be okay."

you two have talked about it once. the unlikely coincidence that he was the person you fall onto out of everyone else in mondstadt, and the uncanny chance that you two managed to hit it off so well too. you two were like souls that were crafted together and got lost on the path to existence; soulmates separated by time and dimensions, but soulmates, nonetheless.

if bennett could just remember that.

"it's your home," he whispered.

"it's my home," you repeated softly, gripping his hands back.

taking a step forward, you released his hands and reached up for your hair. you took off the clip you have been using to keep your hair away from your eyes, then you moved forward and carefully placed it into bennett's hair. your hand slowly glided the side of his face, your eyes focused on his features to engrave his face in your memory. when your finger reached the tip of his jaw, you leaned in and planted a chaste kiss on his cheek.

"thank you so much for everything, bennett," you said.

"i–ah! you're wel–welcome," he mumbled as he fidgetted nervously.

ah! this is the worst circumstance to be kissed for the first time!

he was quick to collect himself and grinned at you. he was smiling from his eyes this time. "well, what are you waiting for? off you go, now!"

your lips quirked down into a bitter smile. your legs felt heavy when they knew they were to walk away from bennett. standing on your spot, you gently pressed your forehead against his, bumping against his goggles lightly as you whispered a tender farewell.

and he stood in the middle of the storm to make sure you left with the portal before he could dare himself to find shelter. bennett smiled to himself when the portal disappeared from before the water fountain; he was officially standing in a mondstadt without you.

as he turned around to look for shelter, he reminded himself to remember the soulmate theory you two established playfully together.

soulmates who are separated, soulmates who are far away, but all is well despite that, because he will kiss you from a thousand worlds away if he has to, and he will hold you through all the time and spaces the universe could offer. if given the chance, if one day the universe decides to fight for your reunion again, he will run, fly, crawl to you.

"soulmates," bennett whispered under his breath, and before he made his way to someone hiding in a restaurant, he wiped away the tears that rolled down his cheeks.

#genshin x reader #genshin imagines #genshin impact imagines #genshin x you #genshin impact x reader #genshin scenarios #genshin impact x you #genshin impact #genshin bennett #genshin bennett x reader #genshin impact bennett #bennett #bennett imagines #bennett x reader #genshin impact scenarios

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ladycatofwinterfell · 3 years

Text

Raindrops, snowflakes, sunshine, part 3

Summary: Catelyn meets a northern boy in her algebra class during one of London’s many rainy days. Initially she doesn’t expect much, but this boy brings her a surprising amount of sunlight.

@leialannister and I discussed Scandinavian Starks and I realized I really wanted to write a fic so that’s what I did. Swedes depicted in media makes this Swede happy, and NedCat also makes me happy so why not combine it and publish him for everyone to see?

Ashara poked her head into the bathroom and squinted against the bright light. Catelyn got eye contact with her through the mirror and raised her eyebrows. Ashara had looked better. She was a beautiful woman, but at the moment she looked like seven hard years.

“Where are you going?”

“Did I say I’m going somewhere?” Catelyn asked.

She was going somewhere, but she hadn’t said a thing about it to Ashara and Cersei. She had planned to tell them about it, she really had, but then she had just never found an opportunity to do it. She had thought that she would be able to get out without them taking too much notice about it. That she thought because the two of them had a hangover from hell.

“You didn’t drink last night and you’re wearing makeup, you’re going somewhere.”

Catelyn turned around to look at her directly instead of through the mirror.

“I’m going out for coffee with Ned” she said.

Ashara smiled tiredly.

“You are?”

“Yeah.”

“I’m happy for you but I also hate you.”

Catelyn turned back to the mirror to examine her look a final time.

“What have I done to deserve that?”

Ashara leaned against the doorframe, crossing her arms over her chest.

“Cersei and I are stuck here, hangover as fuck, but you’re all pretty and have a date with a cute guy.”

Ned had accepted her following request and Ashara and Cersei had deemed him cute based on the pictures he had. Not amazingly good looking, but definitely cute.

Together the two of them had also reached the conclusion that there was no trace of a partner on his social media. He only had pictures with more than two people in them, which made it hard to determine, but after careful consideration they had said that he didn’t seem to have a girlfriend. Which of course didn’t matter to Catelyn, but they had found it very interesting.

“Thanks, but it’s not a date.”

It definitely wasn’t a date, but she was looking good. Her skin was glowing, her hair cooperated. It was a perfect day.

“Then what is it?”

“I’m meeting a person for coffee, that’s what it is.”

Ashara rolled her eyes.

“That really just sounds like a coffee date, KitKat.”

She didn’t know when Cersei’s ridiculous nickname for her had stuck, but it annoyed her that it had. She had long since given up on trying to fight it. KitKat. Sometimes that was just who she was. A chocolate covered wafer bar.

“If you insist on it, fine, it’s a friend date.”

She walked past Ashara and out of the bathroom. The flat was gloomy and the air was heavy with the smell of what Catelyn guessed was lavender, but she wasn’t sure. It didn’t matter what scented candle it was that Ashara had lit, the only thing that mattered was that Catelyn had an intense dislike of it. She was glad for that she had a good reason to get out of there.

“Is he aware of that it’s a friend date?” Ashara questioned as she followed Catelyn to the hallway.

He had to be. She couldn’t imagine him wanting to date her because why would he want that? She hadn’t exactly made a good first impression. Or second impression. She had been given multiple chances and had managed to fuck it up every time.

“Yes. I don’t think he would want to date me anyway.”

“Why?”

Catelyn tried to keep her mind off the social missteps she had made during her conversations with Ned. If she started thinking about that she would die. Well, she wouldn’t die, but she would have some trouble getting herself to their… friend date. And if she actually managed to get there she would have a very hard time looking at him.

“There’s no need to talk about that.”

A sly grin appeared on Ashara’s face.

“No need to talk about it, huh? Why’s that?”

“I’m an idiot, that’s all there is to say.”

“That isn’t like you.”

“My brain abandoned me somewhere in the middle, I don’t know.”

Catelyn really didn’t want to be that person, but she was smart. She was book smart and also did well in social situations. She was simply overall smart. Therefore she would have liked to know what it was about Ned that made her act like she had never spoken to a person before. What about him was so terribly special that she couldn’t use her brain? He wasn’t special, the only thing that made him stand out from the other people in her life was that he was Swedish. And there were literally millions of other Swedes.

“Good luck with your friend date” Ashara said when Catelyn opened the door to leave.

“Have fun here” Catelyn responded.

She was once more very happy for that she was going out instead of staying inside feeling like a corpse all day.

“We’re gonna order pizza, it’ll be great.”

Catelyn didn’t believe Cersei was awake and based on Ashara’s yawn she she guessed she would go back to bed for a little longer as well.

“Save me a slice.”

“Can’t promise anything.”

“Come on.”

“That’s what you get for ditching us for a guy.”

“Is it somehow my fault that you’re hangover?”

“Cat, honey, shut up and let me be a little bit jealous over your date.”

Why was she jealous? She had a girlfriend. And it still wasn’t a date, Ashara knew that. Catelyn would get no boyfriend out of meeting Ned for coffee.

“You have a girlfriend, go on a date with her.”

“I can’t date anyone in this condition.”

“I want dinner no matter your condition.”

Ashara almost pushed her out the door.

“Don’t keep the Swede waiting.”

“Hey, I need–“

The door shut before she had finished her sentence. She supposed it was for dramatic effect, but it wouldn’t really work as Ashara had pushed her out before she could take her bag and phone. So she opened the door and went back inside.

“Did you not get my hint?” Ashara chuckled. “I was telling you to leave.”

Catelyn snatched her bag up from where it stood on the floor just next to the door.

“I appreciate your attempt at recreating a scene from a shitty movie, but I needed my bag.”

“I knew something would ruin it.”

“Want to try again?”

Ashara looked like she actually considered it for a moment, but then she scrunched up her face.

“Nah, it wouldn’t be the same” she said.

“Sorry for ruining it.”

“I hate you now.”

Catelyn descended the stairs, cursing the fact that the lift was still broken. She didn’t even know how long it had been since it broke. Weeks, maybe months. And when it actually worked it worked for five days at a time anyway. Catelyn was a world champion when it came to running in stairs. She was nowhere near patient enough to simply walk down those stairs, that took way too long.

When she had stepped out on the street she heard her phone’s text signal and smoothly fished it out of her bag. It was a message from Ned. She had got his number after they started following each other on Instagram so that they could have more direct contact.

Is it fine if Oden comes?

Her lips curled into a smile, he wanted to bring his dog. That felt like an honor. She didn’t know if it was, but it certainly felt that way. And she was fine with his dog. It was a large dog, she wasn’t a fan of large dogs. But Oden seemed very polite.

Yeah, it’s no problem

Okay, see you soon

See you soon

She put her phone away again and happily walked towards the subway. She had hoped it would be sunny, it was not. Maybe it would have been if she hadn’t thought of it. The weather seemed to work that way. But it wasn’t raining, and according to her weather app it wouldn’t. It was just cloudy. Which was fine. Cloudy was fine. But it made her a little sad because her hair was at its best with some sunlight at it, if she could say so herself.

She arrived there before Ned. The bookshop was closed Sundays so she couldn’t browse for books while waiting. So she looked at her phone for a bit, tried not to stare at people walking past her. She didn’t know where he lived, so she had no idea about from which way he would come.

But before she knew it he was standing in front of her with Oden next to him.

“Hey” he said.

She smiled.

“Hi.”

“I hope Oden isn’t a problem.”

She crouched down slightly and scratched Oden between his ears.

“Not at all. We’re best friends, right, Oden?”

Not that a dog could answer her, but it seemed like he liked her. He wagged his tail. She didn’t speak dog, but she believed that meant he was happy. Or at least he didn’t hate her.

“He trusts you” Ned said.

She had been joking, but she saw no sign of that he was.

“I’m sorry, I’m bad with dogs, how can you tell that?”

“Oh that’s not about dogs overall, it’s just Oden. He usually doesn’t let people touch his head. His brothers and sisters were a bit mean to him, and they would chew on his ears so he’s sensitive in that area.”

Catelyn previously hadn’t believed that she would ever reach the point in her life where a dog trusted her. She didn’t like dogs, and dogs didn’t like her. It had been that way for as long as she could remember. And still she stood there with a dog who according to his owner trusted her.

“I really do not deserve that” she said dismissively. “At all.”

Ned looked at her for a moment before answering. She looked back into his eyes. Grey. They were grey. And she was certain of that she wouldn’t forget it that time around. Even more so she hoped they wouldn’t go so long without seeing each other that she had time to forget again. But she wouldn’t let that happen.

“I think you do.”

Maybe she was blushing. She had no idea. All she knew was that he was very sweet and that she liked that about him.

“Thank you.”

She had probably held eye contact with him for longer than appropriate but he didn’t seem to mind. When she snapped out of it and averted her eyes, turning her gaze to the street instead.

“Where do you want to go?” she asked.

Ned sighed.

“I’m going to confess something” he then said. “I don’t know a lot about coffee, where I come from we drink it plain and black. So you pick wherever you like.”

Interesting that he had asked her out for coffee then. Maybe that was simply the first thing that had come to his mind when he asked her.

“Okay. Well, this isn’t my part of the city, I’m rarely here, but if we walk around the area I’m sure we’ll find something good.”

She was only there when she was at the bookshop. She had no other reason to be there, she only knew they had a good bookshop there.

“Sounds good.”

They started walking down the street with Oden ahead of them.

“Don’t you have coffee shops in Sweden?” Catelyn said.

It seemed so much like an exaggerated stereotype that she couldn’t really believe it. Sweden wasn’t all winter and woods, was it? They had cities and in cities there were coffee shops. Or so she believed. Maybe Sweden was a stranger country than she had initially thought.

“We have in the cities, but my family is from the country side so I didn’t have easy access to them. I learned to drink my coffee black. In the wrong company you could get shamed for drinking it with a little bit of milk.”

“Really?”

“Proper people drink their coffee black” Ned said in a heavy Swedish accent.

Catelyn couldn’t keep herself from laughing and he smiled.

“I drink my coffee black too sometimes” she said. “But that’s mostly when I’m too tired to put anything in it because I’m studying.”

“Everyday I thank myself for quitting math.”

“I get you, sometimes it’s all pain, but I like it.”

“I’m a bit jealous, I wish I was good at it.”

She was somewhat flattered by that. So he wanted something that she had too, she wasn’t the only one who was a bit jealous of the others talents? Maybe she was a bad person for feeling that. She didn’t really care.

“Do you?”

“I have always admired academic people, but I’m definitely not one of them. My brain’s not wired that way.”

“That’s funny, because I thought the same thing about you when you said that you draw” she confessed. “I wish I was good at that.”

Ned didn’t answer, so she looked at him to see if something had happened. He didn’t look back at her, seemingly deep in thought. Which confused her. Had what she said really been that thought inducing? She didn’t believe so. They stopped at a red light, waiting for the light to turn green so that they could cross the street. The moment she wasn’t walking she realized her hands were getting quite cold. She should have brought gloves, she realized as she stuck them in her pockets.

“I could teach you, if you’d like” he offered.

By then she had almost forgotten that she was talking to someone.

“What?”

“I could teach you, if you’d like” he repeated. “I’m not amazing, and I don’t know how good I am at teaching, but I can try.”

Catelyn wasn’t a person who lost her tongue. She could always talk, even in situations where she got nervous or embarrassed. She always had her words. That wasn’t always something she considered positive, but it was true. Though she believed that what she felt then was the closest thing to speechlessness she would ever come.

They had only met a few times, that was the first time they had actually agreed to meet up. They didn’t know each other too well, they were only acquainted with each other. And still Ned offered to teach her. Still he offered to help her learn something she had wanted to learn for many years.

“Would you do that?” she asked, feeling herself smile.

“If you want to, sure” he responded, shrugging as if it was no big deal.

“I have nothing to give you in return, but thank you. I would love to do that.”

“You don’t need to give me anything in return, it’s just a fun thing.”

It could definitely be a fun thing.

The light turned green and together with the other people who had gathered at the crossing they hurried across the street with Oden leading the way.

“Are you cold?” he asked.

“What? No, I’m not cold at all” she lied.

There was no need to fuss about that. She was just too stupid to dress for the weather. Maybe she should have learned to after having been alive for quite some time, but she never seemed to do so. Her father would have shook his head if he could have seen her, he had always stooped her in the door and given her a hat and a pair of gloves.

“Are you sure? Because it really seems like it.”

She should have taken a scarf and a pair of gloves, she could definitely admit to that, but it was a little too late to think of it then.

“What makes you think I’m cold?”

“The fact that your shoulders are up at your ears and your hands are very deep down in your pockets.”

“Okay, I’m a little cold, but it’s nothing.”

If she hadn’t known herself as well as she did she would have looked in her bag to see if she by any chance had a pair of gloves in it. But she did know herself, and was therefore aware of that she would never put gloves in her bag. Looking was therefore unnecessary.

To her great horror he first handed her Oden’s leash, and then took of his own gloves off before offering them to her.

“Ned, there’s no need for that, you really don’t have to” she protested. “You shouldn’t have to be cold because I’m bad at wearing enough clothes.”

Ned didn’t listen to that. He merely took Oden’s leash back and instead gave her the gloves. When he did so his hand touched hers and she felt how warm it was. It could just have been the contrast to her frozen hand, but it felt like he was very warm. They would have made a good match if they were dating in that sense.

“God, your hands are warm” she said.

“I know, that’s why you need the gloves a lot more than I do” he said. “Put them on.”

The need to get her hands warmed up came out victorious in the fight against the want to keep protesting. And she was actually very grateful for the gloves when she put them on and felt an instant relief. They were way too large, but they were a lot better than nothing.

“Thank you, this is very kind of you, but never leave your dog in my hands again. He’s a nice dog, I like him, but I draw the line there.”

“Okay, thank you for letting me know.”

“I’m usually not this bad at planning” she then said, feeling that she had to defend some of what little dignity she had left.

“Just like you’re usually not late?” he quipped, obviously amused by her words.

So he remembered that, did he? That hadn’t been a lie, she was always on time. But the latter was a truth with modifications. She was a good planner, but not when it came to dressing for the weather.

“Yes, like that. I don’t know what has gotten into me lately.”

“I hear that’s what London does to you if you stay here for too long.”

“I think it’s Britain overall, it’s been too long since I was home.”

How long had it been since she visited home? It must have been in the beginning of the summer and at the moment it was the middle of autumn.

“Where are you from?” he asked. “More specifically.”

“Galway. Where are you from?”

“I doubt you would know it, most Swedes don’t know it. It’s a small town. And we didn’t even live in that small place, we lived a bit away from it.”

He was right, she knew exactly two Swedish cities. The two largest ones. And he said he was from a small place earlier so she had known it wasn’t one of those, but it had seemed polite to ask.

“I know Stockholm and Gothenburg, which one is it closest to?”

“Good question, uhm… Gothenburg, I think. But it’s about the same distance to both of them. It’s close to the Norwegian border, not too far from Sweden’s largest lake.”

Just then she realized that she knew absolutely nothing about Swedish geography. She had no idea about the name of the largest lake or where in the country it was. And knowing it was close to the Norwegian border didn’t exactly help, Sweden did have a long border towards Norway. That she knew.

“I’m completely lost” she admitted. “You’ll have to show me on a map.”

Ned laughed.

“Absolutely, but then you’ll have to show me Galway on a map. I have no idea about where that is” he said.

“Don’t you know Galway? There’s eighty thousand people living there.”

“I have heard of Galway, I just don’t know where it is!” he said defensively.

“Okay, small town boy” she chuckled.

He pulled a face at her, making her laugh even more.

“I know I’m not the most academic person, but you’re being unfair, big city girl.”

Catelyn smiled.

“Small town isn’t negative. I like small towns. They have an atmosphere and a feeling that cities don’t have.”

She thought of her grandparents’ house in the country side. She had been there all the time when she was a child, sometimes she had thought it was better there than in the city. Wherever Ned was from was probably lovely.

“Small towns are very different from London” he said. “My siblings dreamed of leaving, but I liked it there. It was calm, not much happened. A good place to make art.”

“You said your older brother lives here, right?”

“Yes. My brother Brandon lives here. I have two younger siblings, as well. A sister, Lyanna, and a brother, Benjen. They’re back in Sweden with my parents. Do you have siblings?”

“I have a younger sister, Lysa, and a little brother, Edmure. He’s twelve, he thinks I’m a total nerd for studying math. He thinks I should get a cool degree instead, like criminology. He still calls a lot and wants to come here to visit though.”

“Despite that you’re a nerd?” Ned chuckled.

“Yeah, despite that I’m a nerd. Apparently I’m still likable and a pretty okay older sister.”

“You’re likable. Och vacker.”

The first thing she understood perfectly, but those last two words she didn’t know. That was Swedish. Why had he started speaking Swedish suddenly? And what did it mean?

“Thank you, but I’m sorry, I don’t know what that second thing means” she said.

Ned gave her a look. She didn’t know what that meant either. There were many things about him that she didn’t know or understand.

“It was nothing” he said.

“No, that wasn’t nothing. If it was nothing you would have told me what it meant” she said, nudging him in the side. “Come on, tell me!”

“No.”

“You’ve made me cur–“

“This might be a good place, don’t you think?”

Catelyn shut her mouth and looked up to see that he was right, that was a coffee shop. She wasn’t sure of exactly where they were, she didn’t recognize it so she had probably never been there before. But they had coffee and that was the only criteria she had.

“You wait here with Oden, I can go inside and order” she said. “What do you want?”

“You already know what I want.”

“Are you sure you don’t want something more fun?”

“Proper people drink their coffee black, big city girl” he reminded her.

She laughed and then took off the gloves, handing them to him.

“Thanks for letting me borrow them, I’ll be back out in a few minutes.”

She opened the door and was met by a wave of heat. It was quite crowded, seemed like everyone had decided to get coffee at the same time. She placed herself at the end of the long line and then took her phone out of her bag, immediately taking up a translator. And then found that she couldn’t remember what that word was that he had said. Or those words. She was pretty sure of that there had been two words, but she couldn’t for her life remember what they were. And it annoyed her. It was annoying that he refused to tell her. Had it been something really insulting? But why would he say something insulting, she didn’t believe she had done anything to deserve that.

The smell of freshly brewed coffee was one she had mixed feelings for. She had worked in a coffee shop for almost a year, and had quit just before starting to take classes that autumn as her working schedule didn’t work out with the classes, and she wasn’t allowed to change it. Coffee was a good scent, but some of her worst interactions with other people had also happened in that environment. She had to get a new job though, she was starting to run low on money.

When it came down to it she got him a latte because she couldn’t bring herself to order black coffee. It was too boring, she had to teach him to drink other kinds of coffee as well.

“What do I owe you?” he asked when she came back outside.

“Nothing, it’s on me this time. And you didn’t get black coffee” she informed him.

“I knew it. Is it a latte?”

“It is a latte.”

“I’ll accept it.”

“You sure you won’t get all soft from the steamed milk?” Catelyn said teasingly.

He took a sip from his mug.

“If I don’t survive the winter it’s your fault.”

“I’ll be sure to let your family know that.”

“Thank you, I’m sure it will bring them much comfort as they’re grieving me.”

“Most definitely.”

“Do you want the gloves?” Ned asked when they started walking again.

She didn’t know where they were going, and she supposed he didn’t either. Just walking could be nice too.

“No, I’m good. I have the warm mug now, and besides they’re your gloves, you should have them.”

“I’ll bring an extra pair next time.”

He wanted to see her more times. Things couldn’t be going bad then, could they? He liked her as well as she liked him.

“Or maybe we’ll see each other indoors” she suggested.

“That works too.”

They crossed a street once more and came out to a park. Why had she never been in that park before? It was a nice park and it was probably even better in summer. She would have to remember that. Maybe she could go there with Ned again. Or she could take Ashara and Cersei there. They went to parks all the time in the summer.

“What do you do in your spare time?” Ned asked.

“If you’re fishing for hobbies now I won’t be able to give you anything. When I don’t study I read, and spend time with my flat mates, occasionally I go to a pub or meet up with other friends. Well, I bake a lot, does that count as a hobby?”

She was actually a quite good baker, but when she thought of it she lived a very boring life. She didn’t consider it boring, she liked it as it was, but it wasn’t anything spectacular. There wasn’t much variation.

“Why wouldn’t it count as a hobby?”

“I don’t–“

Suddenly he almost fell to the side and therefore right into her. Warm coffee splashed over both of them as she stumbled over her own feet. She would have fallen over if he had not quickly dropped her mug in order to grab her arm and hold her upright.

At first she didn’t understand what had happened or why he had lost his feet, but then she realized that it was Oden that had suddenly pulled at his leash.

“För i helvete, Oden!” Ned exclaimed before turning to her. “I’m so sorry, he must have seen a squirrel or something.”

She looked at him, coffee all over his chest area, then looked down at herself. She had equally as much coffee, if not more, all over her. Had she not worn her coat it probably would have burned her.

Catelyn closed her eyes and took a deep breath before opening them again.

“It’s fine, it wasn’t intentional. And no major harm was done.”

She hoped the stains would go away in the washing machine. Otherwise she wouldn’t be that happy, but she still couldn’t be angry at anyone. Neither Ned nor Oden had done it on purpose. And it wasn’t like he didn’t also have coffee all over him.

“Jag visste att jag inte skulle ha tagit med dig” Ned muttered to Oden. “Varför kan du inte bete dig när det behövs?”

The dog stood before them, looking at them with puppy eyes. Seemingly wondering why they had just stopped the walk. When Catelyn met his eyes he tilted his head, wagging his tail.

“And that means?”

“He’s not like this usually, I have no idea about what has gotten into him” he said apologetically.

She believed he had chosen to ignore her question and that wasn’t the translation for what he had said, but she couldn’t be sure about that as she didn’t know a single Swedish word.

“It’s okay, really. Accidents happen.”

He was still holding her arm, and they were standing quite close to each other. There was still some distance between them, but it was far less than when they had been walking. She was blushing, she could feel her cheeks burn. Why did she have to blush, why was that her first reaction to everything?

He noticed just seconds after she did and let go of her arm, then he backed away a step, avoiding her eyes.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to pay for the coffee?” he asked, sounding deeply troubled about it all.

“I’m sure. Next time coffee’s on you, it’ll even out.”

Ned sighed.

“I really feel like I should in some way compensate you for this.”

“It wasn’t your fault.”

It felt somewhat ridiculous to stand there and talk about whether or not he should pay her for the coffee while both of them were dripping with it.

She would have laughed if she hadn’t wanted to disappear into the ground, never to appear again. Both because of the ridiculousness of the situation and because it was so far from how it had played out in her head when she had thought about it beforehand. Nowhere in her imaginations had she come up with a scenario where they stood in a park together with his dog, both of them having coffee all over themselves. She should have expected it though. Of course she couldn’t see him one time without something happening.

“Look, I understand if you don’t want to see me again–” he started.

“Why wouldn’t I want to see you again?”

His expression changed from a very anxious one to one that indicated that he believed that she had completely lost it.

“Because I poured almost all of my coffee on you?”

“I poured coffee all over you too, this goes two ways. Oh God, we look ridiculous.”

She could always take some comfort in that they were looking ridiculous together.

“I know, I can see you clearly” he responded dryly.

As if he didn’t look just as stupid as she did.

"Take a good look then, small town boy. I've never looked better."

She had probably never looked worse. At least when it came to her clothes. It was a good outfit, but the stains didn't really go with it.

"Det är ingen dålig syn."

The whole Swedish thing was fun, she liked hearing him speak his first language, but she was also already tired of not always understanding what he was saying. Communicating in Swedish didn't really work though because she didn't know a word in that language, otherwise she wouldn't have minded at all.

"I'm sorry, Swedish is a fine language, but I don't understand and this time you'll have to translate for me."

"That feels deeply unnecessary."

There was something about the look he had after he had said it that made her even more curious. Like a child who was pretending he wasn't guilty of something he had obviously done and was having a hard time keeping the mask up. What was he saying to her? And why did he refuse to translate it?

"Well, this has been very nice, but I suppose we'll have to continue some other time, because we're both in need of a change of clothes" she said.

She crouched down and picked up the mugs they had dropped. Then she walked over to a nearby trash can and tossed them in it.

"Once again, I'm very sorry” he said.

"There's not much to do about it, so no need to feel sorry."

They began making their way back towards where they had met up, trying very hard to pretend they were not covered in coffee. They actually managed to pass by fairly unnoticed, Catelyn only saw one person give them a look as they walked past. And that wasn't strange, she had seen so much weirder things than two people who had clearly had a little accident while living in London. Maybe it even passed as some sort of fashion statement. When it had just happened it hadn't felt like it, but it could have been worse. A lot worse. She still wanted to disappear from the face of earth when she thought about it, but at the same time she knew that it was definitely a thing she could get over. It had been an accident, it wasn't something she had done or said. That was always an improvement from the times they had met in the bookshop.

"Except for the mess I had a pretty good time" she smiled when they arrived at where they would walk different ways.

"We'll have to do it again without that part" he agreed.

"Indoors" she added.

"I'll bring extra gloves in the future, just in case we need to go somewhere."

She snorted, wondering if he really was that much of an outdoor person.

"That works too."

They fell quiet after that, unsure of what to do. What was appropriate? Could she hug him? That was what seemed most reasonable to her as a handshake was way too formal but she still needed to say goodbye in some way. Hugging also felt most natural to her. Though she couldn't be sure of that he was a hugger. She had never been more thankful for her phone ringing. Maybe a few times, but she was happy to hear her ringtone in that moment. She didn't have to answer it, but it gave her a little more time to figure out what to do.

"I should probably check who it is, I'm sorry" she said apologetically.

She wished she could have just taken up her phone, but it had somehow disappeared underneath everything else she had in the bag. Old receipts, two pairs of sunglasses, a charger, her wallet, a box with a broken bracelet that she had intended to get fixed, some pads. And that was only some of it. How had her phone managed to get down under all that? And when had she put all that crap in the bag? When she finally managed to find it she saw Edmure's name and picture on the screen, and she answered the call with a small smile on her face.

"Uncle wants to know if you're coming home for Christmas" her brother's little voice informed her before she had time to answer.

"Hello to you too, Ed" she chuckled.

"Are you coming home for Christmas?"

It was more than a month and a half until Christmas, why did Uncle Brynden want to know that already? And why wasn't he calling her instead of making Edmure do it? They had regular contact, why hadn't he asked her when they talked the day before?

"I am, but why does he want to know that now?"

"He said why, but I forgot to listen, I just know he told me to ask you that."

She had to keep herself from laughing again by biting down on her tongue. It didn't get easier when she locked eyes with Ned who proceeded to wave back at her despite that they were a meter away from each other.

"Okay."

She would have to call him later and see what it was about.

"What are you doing?" Edmure continued, quickly moving past Christmas.

"I'm out with a friend."

"Is it Ashara or Cersei? Or one of your other friends?"

"His name is Ned, you haven't met him."

There was a short pause from Edmure's side.

"Can I say hello to him?" he then asked.

She could imagine him in his room back in Galway. Sitting at his desk in front of the window of the room, picking at the flaking blue paint on his chair, his eyes narrowed with suspicion. He was always like that when she told him about new people.

"Do you want to say hello to my brother?" she said to Ned.

He shrugged.

"Sure, why not?"

She put Edmure on speaker and then held up the phone.

"Alright, you can say hello now, Ed."

"Hello, Ned."

Ned leaned forward slightly to answer.

"Hello, Edmure."

"Are you and my sister actually friends or are you her boyfriend?"

Ned raised his eyebrows in surprise and she felt the moment she stopped breathing, her eyes going wide.

"Pardon?"

"And that's enough!" Catelyn interrupted, quickly taking Edmure off speaker and putting the phone to her ear again. "Say hello to everyone back home and tell them I love them, bye!"

"But–"

She pressed the button to end the call. There was the reason for why not. She should have seen that one coming, she should have known. She could have spared them both the humiliation if she had just thought it through a second time. Edmure didn't have many boundaries, she had hoped that would grow away when he got older, but it never did. Though he still had some years left before he was a lost case, he was only twelve, after all.

"I had no idea that was going to happen, please forgive me" she said in a low voice as she put her phone back in her bag.

If she looked at him she wouldn't be able to see him again. She would have to delete his contact in her phone and erase every proof of that they had ever met.

"My older brother and my sister are exactly like that, I get you."

She had a feeling of that he wasn't looking at her either, but rather up at the sky.

"There's always some comfort in not being alone, I guess."

"There is."

She took a deep breath and then went in for a quick hug. Based on the way his whole body tensed at first she thought it had been a miscalculation from her side, but then he laid his free arm arm over her back and hugged her back. They were only in contact for a few seconds, but during that short time she once more got to feel how warm he was. His future girlfriend would be lucky to have him in the winter, it was nice. He was nice, all of him.

"We'll have to see each other again" she said when they parted.

"Definitely. Will I hear from you in the near future?"

Catelyn scratched Oden behind one ear. He had patiently been standing still and waiting while they had been standing there and talking. Why weren't all dogs like him? She would have liked them a lot better if they were

"You’ll hear from me as soon as I know when I can. Take care."

"You too."

She threw a glance over her shoulder when they walked separate ways. She did so every few seconds until Ned and Oden had disappeared behind a corner and she could no longer see them. She sighed, that sure had been a lot. They had done quite well, she would like to lay the blame with Oden and Edmure for that it had gone as it did. In the future she wouldn't answer any calls from Edmure while she was around people, it was better that way. Much better. When was back home and had climbed up all the stairs to the sixth floor she was met by ABBA. She hadn't even opened the door yet, but she could clearly hear "Dancing Queen". They were probably watching Mamma Mia!, Ashara loved that movie. Catelyn was almost positive she herself had seen the movie half a hundred times just because Ashara put it one at least once a week.

"What the hell did you do in order to look even more like crap than we do?" Cersei asked when she caught sight of her. "Really, what happened to you, KitKat?"

She felt like she was doing a walk of shame. Except for that she hadn't had sex with anyone, she had just spilled coffee all over herself and the person she had been meeting with. She needed fresh clothes. And dinner, she was starving.

"I don't want to talk about it right now, I need a while to process the whole thing."

"Sounds like a successful date" Ashara hummed to the tune of the chorus of the song.

"It was eventful, if nothing else.”

"There's pizza for you in the fridge, if that makes anything better."

Catelyn stopped to look at her, almost believing that she would start crying over some pizza.

"Really?"

"Yeah, go wild."

"I love you, I'll join you in a minute, I just need to change my clothes."

#catelyn stark #catelyn tully #ned stark #ned x cat #ashara dayne #cersei lannister #edmure tully #my fic #raindrops snowflakes sunshine #im sorry its so late editing took a lot longer than i expected #but here you have nedcat oden and edmure #aka sugar and spice and everything nice

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mars-tamriel-explorer · 3 years

Text

Meeting Kaidan

Ravenna was expecting the abandoned tower to be empty when she walked in. Instead, as she leans her tired, sun-heated form against the cool stone of the inside, she catches a whiff of all the smells that shouldn’t be there. Armor oil, fire, food, magicka, and various human smells blend in with the damp, moldy smell inside the tower. She hears distant footsteps, ascending one staircase, then another, until those armored feet stand right across from her. The Thalmor soldier gazes disdainfully at her. Ravenna stares back, deadpan. She uses her vampiric hypnosis right as he attempts to draw on her. “Be a dear,” she says as she pushes off the wall and starts deeper into the prison, “and answer a few questions for me?” The Thalmor soldier, pacified for the moment, follows behind her with a scowl. “Yes,” he answers, but his voice is strained as he tries and fails to resist her vampiric charm. “You’ve no men posted outside, you drew on me as soon as I entered without a second thought once you realized I wasn’t one of yours. You’re doing something here that you’re not meant to be doing, aren’t you? What is it?” Gritting his teeth, the Thalmor answers through tightly pursed lips. “We’re interrogating a prisoner-“ “What kind of prisoner do you have that you can’t interrogate on-record?” She presses as they descend lower into the prison. “We think he knows something about the Blades,” the Thalmor answers after a long stretch of holding his breath, spitting out the words like vomit. Ravenna knows of the Blades; dragonslayers of old, back when there still were dragons. Last she recalls, they were working with the Empire while they waited for the next Dragonborn to resurface. “You’re telling me you’ve imprisoned some presumably innocent individual because you’re scared of the Blades? Since when do they even have anything to do with you? And you’ve been torturing him too, I take it? Is that why the stench of blood is getting so strong down here?” “Yes.” “I think that’s all I wanted to ask, thank you for cooperating,” she says, turning to him. Just as the seduction begins to wear off, Ravenna grabs him, wrenching him down to her height and burying her fangs in his throat, drinking the soldier dry. She takes a moment to wipe her mouth off on a handkerchief before she moves on, exploring further inside. The deeper in she gets, the more the smells of blood and terror sweat crowd her senses, until finally she reaches the source. The prison cells. She spots their prisoner right away, and, Shor’s Beard, he looks like hell. “Divines, what’ve they done to you? Hold on-“ she says to him as she searches the table in the middle hallway. She snatches a key from it and hurries over to his cell door, to unlock it. The door clicks open and Ravenna approaches the imprisoned man with no hesitation. “Are you-“ she begins, but he, likewise without hesitation, spits a glob of bloody spit into her face as soon as she is close enough. “When I get out of here, I’ll kill you all myself,” he growls, and the intent is there but the vengefulness is missing from his spirit; he’s already half-dead, and, Ravenna figures, unimaginably terrified. “Calm down,” Ravenna says, evening her tone in the hope of prompting him to settle down, too. As Ravenna pulls out her handkerchief again and wipes her face clean, the man lifts his head and actually studies her for a moment, squinting and frowning at her through his injuries. “You’re not with the Thalmor, are you?” He asks her after a long pause. Ravenna picks spit out of her eyelashes. “No, I’m not. I was just passing through and needed somewhere to rest a few hours. My name is Ravenna Rosewood,” she introduces, putting away the handkerchief, “Who are you?” “Kaidan,” he replies slowly, “My name is Kaidan.” “Well Kaidan, I think it’s about time you were discharged, don’t you agree?” She asks him, already reaching over him to unlock his stockade, having to stand on her toes even in heels to reach. Kaidan hears the tiny gasp she lets out when she sees the gore on his back, where he is injured the most heavily. As he stands back up, the tiny Imperial grips him by one of his elbows, as if to steady him, even though he is most definitely several feet taller than she. “Hold still,” she insists, “I know a bit of healing magic.” And he does; Kaidan stands still as she flattens her softly glowing palms against his sternum, letting her work as he feels his flesh knitting itself back together.

#the Friendship is Magic playthrough #Ravenna the Dragonborn #kaidan 2 #kaidan skyrim

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jawritter · 3 years

Text

The Devil And I

Pt. 2

Summary: What doesn't kill you only makes you stronger, right? You survived after you thought your mate had died, but how will you survive finding out he's alive, only different.

Warning: ABO dynamics. Heartbreak, mentions of blood, mentions of past Demon!Dean. Abandonment, Abusive relationship I guess? Swearing. I think that’s about it for this chapter.

Pairing: Demon!Dean x Reader; Dean Winchester x Reader

Word Count: 1681

A/N: This mini series is complete on Patreon. This is completely unbeta'd, so all mistakes are mine! Please do not copy my work! Feedback is golden! Hope you all enjoy this one!

My Masterlist Become A Patreon

You weren’t sure for a moment if it was all a dream or not. Nothing that happened seemed real. You could feel a soft bed underneath you, and you were warm; warmer than you had been in a long time.

Even in your own bed since your Alpha had abandoned you, you had felt cold.

You take a deep breath, trying to will yourself to open your eyes, and instantly that familiar scent that was at the bar hit your nose. You whimpered as you rolled yourself around and forced your eyes open, quickly finding out it was no dream.

His scent was everywhere. You were alone in an older styled room that had brick and concrete walls, and furniture that was old and outdated, and there were weapons on the wall. This had to be his room.

You had become accustomed to waking up in strange places when you were with your Alpha, but this was the first time in months that you had woken up in a place you didn’t recognize at all. It was startling.

You sit up slowly and look around the empty room, trying to remember how you got there, but everything was a blank. The last thing you remember was Dean catching you right before you passed out at the bar.

Pulling the covers back, you throw your feet over the edge of the bed and stand on the cold concrete floor. The clothes you were wearing were not your own. They were a red and black flannel that was way too large for you and a pair of sweats that had been rolled up around your hips in an attempt to keep them from swallowing you whole. They reeked of your Alpha, so you assumed that they belonged to Dean, and he’d put them on you once you brought them here.

You made your way to the door and opened it. Looking down the hallway you see more and more doors. At first, you had no idea where to go, but the longer you stared at the lines of doors you noticed the number descending, and ascending; so you followed the doors as the numbers became smaller.

The further you went down the hall you could hear the voice of your Alpha, as well as Sam, and you stopped just short of the doorway.

“I don’t know Sam!” Dean bellowed. “Hell, I don’t even know the girl's name! I don’t remember her at all!”

You felt your heart stand still for a moment before tears started to prick your vision. You knew there was only one person they could be talking about, and that was you.

“How can you literally claim an Omega and not remember doing it, Dean?” Sam said, and you heard Dean sigh tiredly as if this was an argument they had been having a while before you wondered out of the room Dean had placed you in.

“I didn’t remember claiming the girl until after I touched the mark on her neck. I don’t even know her name. I just remember the act in which she was claimed. Other than that it’s one big blank. You saw what kind of shape she was in Sam, I couldn’t just leave her at the bar to die, and I’m pretty sure If I would have walked away from her it would have killed her,” Dean said, his voice slightly muffled as if he had his head in his hands.

“We’re going to have to make some phone calls, find out what to even do about this. You were not really you when you claimed her. Why was she so blindly focused on you like she was? She followed us out of the damn bar, Dean.”

“Look, Sam, just because I was a Demon doesn’t mean she is, we did all the tests on her, she’s normal as I am right now. She obviously recognized my scent. I can feel the pull… She’s still my Omega.”

The sound of a chair sliding across the floor broke off his sentence, and the sound of pacing filled the room; heavy, dragging footsteps you recognized as Dean’s.

“Well, if she is your true mate, then you would feel that pull, Dean. I think it will be good for you to have an Omega,” a woman’s voice came from the direction of Dean’s voice. Clearly, it was Sam’s Omega, who was apparently hearing impaired.

“She’s mine, I’m not turning her out, Sam, end of story,” Dean said, and you started to make your way back towards the room that you had just left. You couldn’t listen to this conversation anymore.

The good news is he wasn’t so heartless that he was going to throw you out on your ass, so you did have some hope there, but it stung that he had no memory of you at all.

You remembered everything so clearly. Black eyes till this day still haunted your dreams. You remember the feel of his skin against your own. His teeth scraping possessively over your mark as if to remind you that you belonged to him, and him alone. There were some good things there that kept you from just giving up, and walking away to die when he’d claimed you.

Though you also remember the fear that was there, and you remember evil that seemed to seep sinisterly out of his every poor. A shiver creeped through your body. There was always blood, so much blood.

Then there were the mind games he’d play with you, those seemed to be never ending. It was as if even though you were bonded, and he’d claimed you, he always carried this fear that you would leave him. In turn, he would do things that kept you weak, confused, always moving you from place to place, always keeping you in the dark until he needed you; until biology became too much.

Thankfully Dean never had a rut while you were together. You weren’t sure what would happen there if he had. Some Alphas become more aggressive during a rut, and you were sure that Dean would have undoubtedly killed you.

The most disturbing thing of all was the lack of heartbeat. When you were allowed to be close to him, and would put your head against his chest, there was never a heartbeat. Just another reminder that what you were dealing with was not human, not even in the slightest.

The sound of the door behind you opening and closing made you nearly jump out of your own skin. You spin around in a hurry in the middle of the bed you were laying, to find the green eyes of your Alpha staring at you from the doorway, a small tray of sandwiches and drinks in hand.

“Hey, you're awake,” he said, stepping inside cautiously, moving diliberly slowly as if he was aware of your fear of him, or at least suspected it. You were afraid, but you were drawn more than you were afraid. That was something you didn’t even understand, but there was no fighting it.

“I’m sure you’re hungry.”

Slowly he made his way over to the bed, and placed the small try down in front of you before moving to sit down beside you, grabbing a sandwich of his own.

He’d never done anything like this before. Even when you would go into heat you would have to fend for yourself. He didn’t care much for you past your biology. He made that perfectly clear. Now here he was, bringing you food.

“Thanks,” you mumble, grabbing your share of the food, and bringing it slowly to your mouth without looking at him even though you could feel his eyes on you.

“Are you afraid of me Omega?”

The question came slam out of nowhere, and it caught you off guard. His voice was never so soft when he spoke to you before. It was unnerving. His scent was so strong that it was becoming hard to focus, and there was a comforting wave filling the small room that you were pretty sure that was coming from him.

“I don’t know,” you told him earnestly.

“Well, don’t be, please. I don’t know what I put you through before now, but I’m not going to hurt you.”

You continued to slowly work on your sandwich without a word, keeping your head down submissively as if this was another test, another game, and at any moment the demon would return.

“What’s your name Omega?” Dean asked you, his voice small. It was as if he was ashamed of his own question, and for the first time your eyes drifted up to meet the impossibly green orbs staring back at your. Your heart seized in your chest as you looked into a soul that was never there before, one that was torn and broken, but his own. Not the black nothing that was there before.

Dean was not the same man that had claimed you, not in the least.

“Y/N, my name is Y/N.”

Dean swallowed hard around the hug lump that formed in his throat at the realization that as a demon, he’d probably never even ask you your name before.

His large calloused hand came up slowly and cupped the side of your face, his eyes searching your own as if trying to convey some message that he didn’t know exactly how to say.

“I’m so sorry sweetheart, I promise this time will be different. I’m not a monster anymore Y/N, and I want you to know that I’m going to do whatever I can to make up for everything I did to you.”

You held your breath and nodded at him before returning to your food he shoved closer to you, an unspoken command to eat your food he’d brought you.

He promised to fix things, to make up for things, but things were always so broken that you didn’t know if they’d ever be able to be fixed. Even though he said he wouldn’t send you away, he still made no move to reclaim you since he’d brought you in here, to reestablish the bond, and that scared you the most.

Forever Tags:

@deandreamernp

@forgetthisbull

@miraclesoflove

@deanwanddamons

@rvgrsbrns

@chevyharvelle

@onethirstyunicorn

@i-love-superhero

@lyss-dw79

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@lemondropirwin

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@idksupernatural

@lyarr24

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ABO Forever

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Dean’s ABO

@akshi8278

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Mini Series Tags:

@that-one-gay-girl

@maniacproffesor

#dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x you #alpha!dean x omega!reader #alpha!dean winchester #alpha!dean fanfic #alpha!dean #alpha!dean winchester x omega!reader #x reader inserts #omega!reader #x omega!reader #alpha!demon dean #alpha!demon dean x omega!reader #alpha!demon dean winchester x omega!reader #spn fanfiction #spn fanfic #jawritter #the devil and i

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marmolady · 3 years

Text

New Horizons

Main Pairings: Estela x (f)MC, Graleister

Summary: Endless Ending. Liv and Reggie are starting school in San Trobida. Notes at the end!

Word Count: 9695

Chronology: After 'Growing Pains', before 'How the time escapes me...'

Tagging: @saivilo, @edgydepressedchoicesthot, @sceptilemasterr, @greengroove @mauvecatfic

Thanks for reading!

San Trobida, July 2035

“Hey, Auntie Grace!”

Reggie looked up from his book at the sound of his cousin’s voice, and hastily placed aside his shiny new copy of ‘A Guide to San Trobidan History’ so he could rush out into the hallway.

Grace was already wrapping Liv in a hug. “Hello, sweetheart.” She kissed the side of her niece’s head, before her eyes wandered down to a bloodied knee. “Did you have a mishap on your bike on the way here?”

“Yeah… I clipped the kerb and crashed,” Liv said, offering her aunt a better view of her wound. As she heard Reggie’s footsteps, she looked up to meet his eye and smiled.

“Youch!” Reggie offered sympathetically as he came close enough to peer over Liv’s grazed knee.

Liv shrugged. “I’ve had worse.”

Grace, though, was more concerned. “Are you sure you didn’t hit your head when you fell?”

“No, just scraped my knee. It does actually sting a bit.”

“Hmm. Well, I think we’d better put some anti-septic that knee just to be safe.”

The new house was a mess. Boxes and misplaced furniture filled every room, and the twins-- six years old-- had been making forts with the packing boxes that had been emptied so far. The family had been in the house for just over a day, and some good progress had already been made. There had been a lot that had been left behind. Neither Aleister nor Grace put too much value on material possessions, so most of what had come with them and the children to their new home in San Trobida had been essential furniture, and the mountains of photo albums and memorabilia from a life with the kids.

Grace sat Liv down on a wooden ottoman, and, after a little bit of rummaging, found the first aid kit.

“Okay, this might hurt just a little,” she said gently, and she carefully dabbed Liv’s graze.

Liv yelped, “Fuck!”, causing Reggie to gasp, looking to his mother for a reaction, and Erin and Immy to burst out giggling from inside their box-fort.

Grace raised an eyebrow, but her warm smile didn’t shift. “It stings that much?”

“Yeah…,” Liv said, flushing a little. “Sorry about the language.”

“I’m sure I didn’t hear a thing.”

There was the usual bustling around as Aleister got the girls into their shoes; Immy and Erin had decided that swapping one shoe with one another was the peak of humour, but eventually, their father managed to get them each into a left and a right-- even if they didn’t match. Six-and-a-half-year-old sisters, Reggie had come to realise, made just about everything more of a headache than necessary.

Eventually, though, they were on their way. His mom and dad, walking beside the twins as they pootled along on their bicycles, had the address, but Reggie rode ahead with Liv, taking her lead as she zig-zagged through the streets of Valle Brava. Having only set foot on San Trobidan soil as a new resident some twenty-four hours ago, everything aspect of his environment set his senses alight. This wasn’t like being back in America. Perhaps it was the tropical climate, but he was reminded much more of La Huerta-- of home. Liv certainly seemed right at home here. She and her mothers had settled a few weeks before, and Liv had been coming here pretty much all her life. There were just a few blocks between their respective houses, and the wide cycle paths along the bitumen roads made for an easy journey. This, Reggie had been told, was a newly developed area; much had been re-built since the war he knew his Tia Estela had been involved in. The cycle paths ended as they came nearer to Liv’s place, a little way out of the main township. The foliage on either side of the road became thicker, and there was less street noise, more birdsong.

“Beat you!” Liv announced as she planted her feet into the ground, forcing her bicycle to a stop.

Reggie grumbled, pulling up beside his cousin in front of a humble bungalow-style house with outer walls a vibrant azure blue against yellow accents. The sound of a dog barking-- unmistakably Liv’s Robin, was further confirmation they’d arrived. “You didn’t beat me, Livia. I was following you. I didn’t even know where we were going.”

“Jeez, dude. No one likes a sore loser….”

“I am not a--!”

The door swung open.

“Reggie!” Taylor wasted no time in sweeping her nephew into a hug. “It’s so good to see you! I can’t believe you still have the energy for cycling over here-- didn’t you move house, like, yesterday?”

Reggie laughed. “Hi, Auntie Taylor!” There was something about seeing a familiar face in this new environment that made the pieces seem to click into place. Family made it home. “I’m a little bit tired but mostly just excited. I did sleep in today, so I guess I won’t crash until later.” His sisters on the other hand… there was no way they’d last the evening without overtiredness rearing its ugly head.

“I’m guessing your mom and dad are on their way with the girls?”

“Yeah,” said Liv, “but they’re pretty slow. I don’t have to wait to give Reggie the grand tour, do I?”

“Knock yourself out, kid. Hang on, Liv? Walk your bike through the house, please.”

“I was gonna!”

Reggie could only smirk. Like hell you were….

“Aaaand,” Liv finished off with a flourish, “this is my room!” She opened the door to a good-sized bedroom. It seemed to Reggie that what floor-space wasn’t taken up by the bed was piled up with boxes.

“I mean, I can’t say the mess wasn’t a clue.”

Liv gave her cousin a look as she flopped into her bed. “Hey-- moving house is hard. You’ll see soon enough. You get started all excited, but once you start living your life, you kinda get… stuck. Mama Taylor says we’re going to just blitz it all next weekend, and throw ourselves a pizza party as a reward.”

Reggie got up onto the bed and crossed his legs. “Do you like it here?”

“I love it here! I always liked coming here when I was little, so I guess it doesn’t feel like something completely different. I reckon my tio abuelo is over the moon that we’re here for good; it’s like I’ve got a grandparent now.” Liv’s cheeks flushed pink, and she glanced away.

Understanding, Reggie nodded. Together, they’d grown up in a family that didn’t take the traditional shape. There were some things that simply couldn’t be explained to other friends; like why Reggie’s grandma could help him with his homework, but could never come in for grandparents’ day, and why Liv had a whole side of the family with no grandparents at all-- not even dead ones.

“And,” Liv continued, “people don’t really look at my Mama Estela funny. I noticed that years ago. I guess ‘cause of the war, people don’t look twice at someone who’s maybe a little bit banged-up. I got so sick of it back in America. Every time we met someone new, they’d put on that ‘God, what happened?’ face. Maybe Mom doesn’t want to explain the whole ‘revolutionary in a civil war’ thing to every random person who can’t mind their own business. Some people have scars-- big freaking deal. It’s better here.”

“Yeah, that would be a nice change. The amount of times I’ve seen you and Auntie Taylor look at a nosy idiot like you want to deck ��em--”

Liv burst out laughing. “True, that.”

The sound of excited barking rang out from the backyard. It seemed pretty likely to Reggie that his parents and sisters had just arrived. When he and Liv arrived in the backyard, Erin had already joined Estela at the barbecue, desperate to be involved, while Immy was passionately talking to Nicolas about goodness-knows-what. Reggie made a mental note to rescue him in a few minutes; that kid could be intense, and the poor old guy had come out here for a relaxing lunch with his niece.

Nicely, but firmly, Reggie nudged the wriggling, writhing form of Robin the dog to the side so he could join his mother and Auntie Taylor at the large alfresco table under the porch. And Robin returned to his favoured position at the feet of the barbecue-- Erin was just a kid, surely, she’d drop something….

“Do you need a hand with the salads?” Reggie asked as he greeted his mother with a hug. He’d been seeking a lot of those. With so much changing, familial comfort meant a lot, and he wasn’t ashamed to admit it.

Perhaps more than anything, though, he was grateful to have Liv by his side. It was the way it had always been; from their toddler days on La Huerta, through elementary school, to their adventures in home-schooling. Some things might change-- some things might change immeasurably-- but he always had his cousin.

___________________________

La Huerta, 2028

Liv yelled out as she splashed down into the shallow surf. “Reggie!”

“I got her, Xiraana!” Reggie cried, and soon he was joined by a young Vaanti girl, who helped restrain their victim.

“No, no!” Liv squealed as she struggled. Vaanti kids, she’d long ago realised, were strong. “You’ll never take me alive!”

“Five-- four--- three….” Xiraana counted down, not letting Liv out of her grasp.

“Two-- one!” Reggie finished triumphantly, and he let his cousin fall unceremoniously back into the water. “The klaawyi ate all the meat off your bones. You’re one of us now!”

Liv pouted, but admitted defeat. It wasn’t the worst thing that could happen; she was pretty good on Team Klaawyi anyway. Or, she would have been… had she not seen the figure of her favourite uncle descending onto the beach from the great tree of Elyys’tel.

“Tio Diegoooooo! Hiiiii!” Liv ran across the sand, almost tripping in her desperation to reach him.

“Hey, Livia!” Reggie cried out, indignant at being suddenly abandoned. “You’re meant to help us catch them!”

But Diego had crouched down to wrap Liv in a hug, and Reggie might as well be talking to a pile of rocks for all that was being absorbed.

“Tio, they got me! Reggie and Xiraana got me, and now I’m a klaawyi!”

“You?” Diego laughed. “You’re no klaawyi-- I’ve never seen a klaawyi that was ticklish!”

“Wha--?” Oh no. Once again, Liv was shrieking with mirth, this time dodging the tickling hands of her tio.

Still standing in the shallows, Reggie stomped his foot, which achieved little but splashing himself in the face. The game went on without them; games of Klaawyi Chase didn’t stop for anyone. The usual fun on the beaches outside Elyys’tel would go on like this every day… whether Reggie and Liv were there to join in or not. And Reggie didn’t want to miss out now.

“Come on, Livia!”

She just shook her head, not letting her adoring gaze up at Diego slip for so much as a heartbeat. “Nah,” she said. “I’m done.”

Torn, knowing that whichever direction he ran in, he’d lose out on precious time with friends, Reggie admitted defeat and rushed back to Liv’s side on the shore. He looked back over his shoulder and waved goodbye-- for what he’d been told would likely be a long, long time. Engrossed in their game, his friends gave just the most fleeting of farewells before continuing to race through the small waves that lapped the beach.

Liv, in contrast, had eyes only for her tio. She clasped his hand tightly; if she held on tight enough, perhaps he’d have no choice but to come with her to wherever her mothers were taking her in the big aeroplane.

Where exactly she was going, Liv didn’t quite understand. It was away from La Huerta, but they weren’t going back to live with Tio Nicolas, they were going… someplace else. Someplace with no Tio Diego and Varyyn, where all the other kids would be boring shades of pink and brown rather than blue and green, and where no one knew about the yeti-bear, or the magic crystal alien that made her mom, or about The Story of the Year the World Stopped.

“I want you to come, Tio Diego…,” Liv softly beseeched.

Diego’s eyes grew misty, her earnest words having tipped him over the edge after what had been a long period of emotional build-up. Goodbyes were never easy, and Liv’s family was his family. He squeezed her little hand gently.

“I’ll visit you, Livi-- I promise. Cross my heart. And your mommies will bring you over to visit us here too; you are going to learn so many new games at school that you can teach Xiraana and the other kids.”

“But I’ll miss you…”

Having rejoined Liv, Reggie peered up at Diego’s teary face with concern. “Diego, you’re making your glasses all foggy.”

“Ha. I know, I know!” Diego wiped his eyes. “You might have a point there, Reggie; I want to spend this last night with you guys actually being able to see you!”

Liv giggled and wrapped her arms around her uncle’s legs, only to be peeled off and hoisted into the air. “We can still have fun until bedtime, can’t we? Will you tell us a story?”

On the ground, Reggie danced around, his arms waving. Diego-time was the best story-time.

In the arms of her tio, her playmate since she was a baby bouncing on his knee, Liv was a mess of emotions; of fear and excitement, of merriment that competed with the looming sorrow. It was more than her little self had a clue what to do with. She was only five.

Sensing his cousin’s turmoil, Reggie reached up a hand and took hold of Liv’s, hanging down by Diego’s side. “Don’t worry, Livia! If you worry, you won’t enjoy story-time.”

Liv stuck out her bottom lip. That little nerd-face could be pretty smart sometimes. Tomorrow night, there would be no goodnight story from Tio Diego, but tomorrow night was not now-- now, everything was as it should be. Her wavering grin returned, and to her delight, it brought matching smiles to the faces of her companions.

“Do you think Varyyn, and my mommies, and Auntie Grace and Uncle Alli, and Auntie Grace’s tummy babies want to listen to the story too?”

“Yeah,” Diego said, letting Liv back down to the ground, where she immediately found another hug in Reggie’s arms, “I think everyone would really like that.”

_____________________________

San Trobida, August 2035

“I don’t get it,” Liv said thoughtfully, as the car rolled right on past the turn for her Auntie Grace and Uncle Al’s place. “It’s right on the way; wouldn’t it have been easier for us to pick up Reggie?”

“Hon,” Taylor replied, “I think Reggie wanted his mom and dad to take him to orientation. They’ll probably be better at helping with his jitters than we would be.”

“I guess.” Liv looked out the window, watching the surrounding vegetation thicken once more as the car followed the road up out of the valley. “Orientation Day shouldn’t be too bad, right? Just, like, meeting our teachers, learning where stuff is, that kinda thing?” And you’ll have to try and make friends. That would be a laugh.

By the time they pulled up at the Las Selvas Secondary School, however, Liv fully understood her cousin’s nerves, and realised that was probably why she’d been so disappointed that he didn’t share a car with her. Through every big change in their young lives, his presence had been a reassuring constant.

“Uggghh,” she groaned. “Can I change my mind? Home-schooling was all right; more of that, please.”

Estela leaned from the front seat and gave Liv’s knee a squeeze. “You know, I don’t think he’d ever say it, but I’m pretty sure Reggie would be really scared if he had to walk into this without you. Besides, you were so excited about starting here; you owe it to yourself to at least giving it a shot.”

Again, Liv groaned, this time even louder. “It’s so annoying when you’re right.”

“Story of my life,” Taylor laughed, while Estela smirked.

When they pulled up at the school, Reggie was already waiting, standing beside the car-park while his parents fussed over him.

“You have your phone?” Grace quizzed, checking for the fourth time since they’d set off.

“I told you, yes!” Reggie replied, and he pulled his phone out of his pocket to wave around for good measure. “I’ll send you a message when I’m ready to be picked up, I promise.”

“In that case, you just have a wonderful time, darling.” She wrapped him in a hug-- already Reggie was easily as tall as her. “Go well, and have fun.”

Liv rushed over, all smiles. Her own nerves were a whole lot less bothersome when she had the distraction of friendly faces.

There were a few more rounds of hugs exchanged-- and then, suddenly, Liv and Reggie were on their own.

“You wanna head over? Looks like people are already crowding around-- it’s probably gonna start soon.”

Reggie’s expression brightened, as if he’d been just waiting for a little push for his confidence to surge back forth. “Well, it will hardly be an auspicious start here if we miss the principal’s address. Get a move on, Livia!”

The morning passed relatively quickly. Liv placed herself next to Reggie at all times-- they’d been put in the same Grade Seven home room as requested, making him one of the eldest in the class, and her one of the youngest. The whole set-up wasn’t entirely different to the school they were accustomed to, other than the bilingual approach. They were given a small pile of boring paperwork, and outlines of what to expect in their new classes; as English was their first language, they’d be taking ‘Spanish as a Second Language’, and Liv was also excited about ‘Nature Studies’, a subject she’d never been offered in America.

As far as Liv was concerned, the most traumatic part of the session was being expected to stand up in front of a room of strangers and give a short spiel about themselves. The perfect opportunity to officially balls-up any chance they might have of making new friends, or at least that was how she saw it. She mumbled down into her chest; something about enjoying hiking and gymnastics, something about liking Batman, and animals, and then she hurriedly sat right back down with flaming cheeks. Reggie, she observed, handled the brief foray into public speaking with rather more poise. Even though he was shy-- perhaps even more than she was-- he seemed able to go into ‘school presentation’ mode, and breeze through. When he sat back down, though, his hands were shaking-- but that was for the eyes of his trusted friend only.

When the lunch break came along, Liv was ravenous; a new and challenging social situation could do that to a person. While Reggie sloped off to the bathrooms, she tested out the school canteen, emerging a little while later with a hot empanada. It wasn’t quite as good as her Mama Estela’s, but it was definitely a step up from what was on offer at her old school. Maybe she could get used to this place….

Liv watched this new world go by all around her as she ate, cross-legged beneath the tree she’d told her cousin to meet her by. Kids moved in their little circles, talking loudly, laughing. Most of them coming into Grade Seven had come from the local primary school, and many knew each-other. Liv and Reggie would be starting out on the outside… and that was daunting. She could not be more grateful that she wasn’t taking this on alone.

Or… at least, she shouldn’t be. The lunchtime queue moved on, the gaggles of kids spread out, and still Reggie hadn’t returned.

Damn, constipated on your first day. Sucks to be you, Reggie.

Tentatively, Liv approached the boys’ bathroom and, having ascertained that no one was watching, slipped in. Her footsteps were unheard, drowned out by the loud, frantic breathing of young Reggie, slumped over the sink. Alarmed, Liv rushed over. Tears were spilling down his cheeks.

“Reggie… it’s okay,” she said gently. A little unsure, she reached out a hand to rub his back, and to her surprise, he didn’t flinch away. Slowly, he seemed to regain control of himself.

“Liv…,” Reggie panted. “You know you’re not meant to be in here; this is the guys’ room.”

“Hey! Like it’s my fault you didn’t take your anxiety attack into the unisex bathroom. That’s on you.” Hmph. Ungrateful, much?

Reggie scowled, and dragged his cousin out of the toilet block by her arm. He slumped down by the wall, and scooched over to encourage her to join him.

“You’re a pain in the arse.” He was still shaking.

“It’s been said, yeah.” Liv huddled a little closer. “You don’t need to worry, okay? You’re not going to have any trouble making friends. Did you see they’ve got a chess club, and a photography club as well? At least that’ll get you talking to people.”

“That’s,” Reggie said quietly, “not exactly what I’m worried about.” When Liv looked at him expectantly, he continued. “When I was in a room with all those kids, my head just went back to being at our old school… and what happened. I know this place is meant to be progressive and all that, but that doesn’t mean that everyone’s okay. What if I think I’ve made friends with someone, and they find out about Erin, and they make it a big thing, and then some arsehole finds out….”

“Man, you’re really spiraling,” Liv observed, not especially helpfully. She wasn’t exactly surprised by what was troubling her cousin; getting into a fight in defense of his young transgender sister had completely unseated Reggie from the comfortable life he’d had at the last school. It had changed everything.

“You would too, if she was your sister!”

“Probably. But I think you should at least give people a go. It sounds like they’re really strict on any kind of bullying against minorities. Swinging back hard in the opposite direction after that fascist dictatorship.”

“Those are some awfully big words for you to be throwing around there, Livia; watch you don’t hurt yourself….”

“Hey! I know my stuff!” Liv demanded. “Do you think my tio abuelo would have it any other way? But anyway, I’m right. All the people who didn’t fit in before have come to this part of the country. Probably a lot of the kids have parents who saw really horrible things in the war; they wouldn’t want to send them somewhere that was bad like before. My Mama ‘Stel gave the principal the grilling of her life, and I bet she hasn’t been the only one. People are gonna want to make sure their kids are being looked after.”

A smile quirked on Reggie’s face as he imagined his aunt on a school tour. “I bet Tia Estela left Principal Sanchez quivering under the desk.”

“Yeah… after what happened in the last school, there’s no way they’d let us go anywhere unless they were sure it was a place that treated people right.”

Reggie knew that much. But his parents, and even his fierce aunt, could not shield himself, his sisters and his cousin, from everything. He contemplated silently, grateful for the patient companionship.

“I guess,” he said at last, “if no one gave anyone else a chance to be anything but the worst, then we’d be pretty lonely.”

“Yup. We should at least give it a shot. And if it all goes in the crapper, I’ll sic my moms on the fools that mess with us. And the freaking yeti.”

Reggie couldn’t help but roll his eyes. That had always been Liv’s answer to everything. “Livia, I hate to break it to you, but if you go around threatening people with yetis, everyone’s gonna think you’ve got a screw loose. Except me; I know you’ve got a screw loose.”

“So damn rude,” Liv growled. “Anyway, you really should eat something. It probably won’t help you feeling crap and light-headed if you’ve got an empty stomach. They’ve got arepas!”

“...I could eat an arepa,” Reggie admitted. There was only so much a young boy of thirteen could control; he couldn’t wave a magic wand and guarantee that his little sister would never be hurt by cruel, ignorant words, but he could look after himself, so that he was the best him he could be-- and the best brother.

_____________________________

USA, 2028

“You did a great job, sweetheart,” Taylor said kindly as Reggie delicately placed his knife and fork atop his small plastic plate, signaling that he’d finished. Immediately afterwards, the little boy’s small hand had dropped to his side to get a reassuring touch of his teddy’s scruffy fur. “It was nice of Big Bear to join us for dinner. Does he like lasagna as much as you do?”

Reggie yawned widely as he nodded to his aunt. He hadn’t known it was possible for a kid to be so full of yawns, but living with newborn twins had shown him just how big a tired feeling could be. “Big Bear likes to watch from the floor.”

“That’s nice of him to let you have the whole plate for yourself. We’re gonna have plenty to bring over to your mommy and daddy for them to eat tomorrow.”

Lasagna had been Reggie’s choice. This whole sleepover was to be all about him; giving him a welcome break from the stresses of being a new big brother to two babies at once. He’d been on many, many sleepovers at Tia Estela and Auntie Taylor’s place before, but this time felt different. Reggie knew that at home, his parents were busy with their other children… and in his sensitive state, it took no time at all for him to miss them.

Twins, Reggie had come to realise, were very hard work. They cried a lot… and his mommy cried a lot, and his daddy cried a lot, and he cried a lot. All crying and no sleeping was not a whole lot of fun. Reggie wanted so badly to get away from the babies, but at the same time he longed to be with his parents. However much fun it was to take a break at his aunts’ place, the worry in him just wouldn’t go away.

Side-by-side, he and Liv changed into their pyjamas. Five-year-old Liv, true to form, nattered away to him the whole time. Babies, of course, were the subject of choice.

“My moms say we’re probably not gonna get another baby. Maybe ‘cos you have two I can borrow one if I get lonely. Do you have one that you like best?”

Reggie shrugged.

“Maybe next time your mom and dad will have three. You could have all these babies like a baby army, and if someone’s ever mean to you, you will have like a hundred poopy diapers you can throw at them. No one likes poop.”

“I don’t want lots more babies,” Reggie said softly. I want no more.

“If you don’t like babies, you can come and live with us forever!” Liv suggested brightly, oblivious the the wobble of her cousin’s bottom lip.

When Estela popped her head around the corner to check on the kids, Reggie was in tears and Liv looked totally bewildered.

“Mommy, Reggie’s crying…,” she pointed out, rather unnecessarily, for her mother had already scooped the little boy into a cuddle.

“It’s okay, mijo,” Estela soothed as she gently rocked her nephew in her arms. “It’s okay to cry. This has been really hard. You know what? You have been such a good boy for Mommy and Daddy.”

Liv, not quite sure what to do, but nothing if not well-meaning, draped herself over Reggie and patted him on the back. “There, there. It’s okay.”

Estela took Reggie into the lounge room for some cheer-up time, and Liv took Big Bear. Taylor quickly joined them, and pulled Reggie into her lap for a cuddle.

“Are you feeling a bit sad, sweetpea?”

Reggie nodded. “Uh-huh. I liked it better how things were before. Everything’s different.”

Taylor gently rubbed the little boy’s arms. “Change can be really tough. It’s like you’ve got to figure out how life works all over again!”

“Yeah, it’s not nice.”

“So, it’s okay to have a good cry. We will give you as many hugs and cuddles as you need.”

“Reggie,” Liv piped up, “do you wanna play a game? That could make you feel happy?”

Reggie sniffed and nodded again. Pleased-- she had this cheering-up business down-- Liv plonked herself in Estela’s lap and leaned forward to her cousin.

“Do you wanna play… ‘Klaawyi Chase’?”

Estela intervened quickly. “Maybe something with a little less running around. It’s nearly bedtime, Livi.”

“Okay. Ummmm…. ‘Duck, Duck, Goose’?”

“Livita.”

Well, you’re no fun. Liv gave a soft huff and pondered. By her best guess, ‘Hide and Seek’ would be a ‘no’ too… especially as last time she’d hid, no one managed to find her for a full hour.

“How about,” Taylor suggested, “we have a game of ‘Fortunately-Unfortunately’?”

“I wanna play that one!” Reggie said enthusiastically. “Can I start? Fortunately, we all had ice cream for dessert.”

Liv bounced in her mother’s lap. “Unfortunately, the ice cream was smelly-feet flavour!”

“Livi!” Taylor exclaimed, rolling her eyes. Why was everything smelly-feet with that kid? “Okay, then-- fortunately, Robin Dog likes smelly-feet, so he ate all the ice cream for us.”

“Oh!” Liv cried. “I’ve got a really good one!” Hehe, Robin with smelly-feet farts….

“Unfortunately,” said Estela. “It was Mama Estela’s turn, and Miss Livita just had to wait.”

Liv turned and poked her tongue out at her mom, making Reggie giggle. He snuggled in against his Auntie Taylor’s chest, his mind far away from worries about his new role as big brother to a pair of very needy twins.

“Fortunately,” he said, smiling, “Furball was visiting, and he made us some new ice cream with no yucky flavours in it.”

“Unfortunately….”

_________________________

San Trobida, September 2035

It was the last weekend before school started, and a lazy warm day at the Montoya house. Estela was up a tree, hammering boards into what would soon be a playhouse for the kids. She’d already finished up a two-storey-high climbing wall on the other side of the yard, which, at Liv’s request, would eventually be connected to the new tree-house by a zipline. Then, there’d be a slide, and monkey bars, and a tyre swing, and a fire pole. Basically, Estela had made it her mission to put together the best backyard playground on the Costa Libertad. Taylor, meanwhile, had been busying herself with a vegetable garden, with the help of a fascinated Erin and her parents, who turned out to be quite clever when it came to soil chemistry.

Liv had been up and down her new climbing wall like a yo-yo, leaving her dog, Robin, running rings around the base and all but tripping Reggie up as he tentatively took his first steps towards ascending.

“Are you coming?”

“I’m trying! Your dog’s getting in the way.”

Eventually, Reggie managed to clamber his way up, with a little help from Liv who hauled him over the top.

“See; piece of cake.”

Reggie couldn’t quite agree, and now that he was up twenty feet, he was already dreading his descent back to solid ground. Keen to distract himself from the dizzying height, he passed Liv the rope that he’d carried slung across his shoulders.

“What do you want me to do with it?” she demanded. “You’re meant to drop one end back down….”

“I’m not going near the edge!”

“Fine. Immy! You down there still?”

On the ground, and trying to wrestle a squeaky toy giraffe from Robin’s mouth, Immy craned her neck up.

“Yeah-- but you’re lucky I am, Reggie was so slow.”

“Careful. I was careful. You should bloody well try it sometime.”

Immy rolled her eyes dramatically, but nonetheless took the rope end that Liv had lowered to her, and ran it over to Estela so the distance could be measured.

“There we go,” Liv said, after having marked the rope at the edge of the platform. “Done. Reggie, if you’re just going to look down, you might as well be on the ground. Come on-- check out the view!”

Begrudgingly, Reggie sat up properly and looked around.

“Woah.” Maybe he could see the appeal of being up so high, even if he was immensely grateful for the safety rails around the platform. “You really can see everything up here.”

“Isn’t it cool?” Liv beamed as she pointed her cousin towards the paddock behind the yard. “You wanted to see our horse? Right in there at the side of the sheltery-shed thing….”

“Oh, wow! Okay, fine, I believe you now. I guess she was just hiding earlier.”

“That’s Miel. She’s like, older than dirt; Mama Estela used to ride her when she was a teenager.”

“And she’s still alive?”

“Just about. I think she’s uh… nearly thirty? Pretty ancient. Mom found out she was all on her own after her friend died, and she bought her so she could retire here with us. She’s kind of a bitey asshole. Uh, the horse-- not Mom.” Liv quickly amended, glancing to the in-progress tree-house. “So, we’re keeping her, and if she wants to make friends with the new horses we’re getting, she can, otherwise at least she can, like, neigh rude horse words at them from over the fence.”

Reggie snorted. Weirdo.

“I’m super excited. I know Mama ‘Stel was kind of nervous about us moving over here because of how things were when she was a kid-- but it actually… feels nice. I love our new house. I love cranky Miel. I love that we’re gonna get chickens, and maybe a new friend for Robin. Even the school seems pretty good.”

Swallowing his fear, Reggie joined Liv at the railing, dangling his legs over the side of the platform.

“Yeah, I think I like it here, too. Mom and Dad seem really happy; Dad says he can make more of a good difference in the world here than in America. So, I guess that’s got to be good. Did I tell you we’re going to put a pool in?”

“You might have mentioned it. When you’ve been whining about the heat, for the hundredth time.”

“It’s so humid!”

Liv giggled. It was like being back in the tropics of La Huerta, and to her, that felt right. Granted, it might have been nicer if they could just pop on over into a neighbouring alpine region that was inexplicably right next to the hot, sticky jungle, but she really loved it.

“Well,” Reggie said, “it’s going to be great. And it should be done by the time Quinn and Michelle come to visit.”

“Do we even know whose house they’re staying at yet?”

“It should be my place.” Reggie puffed out his chest, as if to emphasise the rightness of his point. “You’re definitely getting Jake and Sean and Mikey. You can’t take all the visitors. And besides… we’ll have a pool.”

That was hard to argue with. “It’s up to the adults anyway,” Liv conceded. In the end, it didn’t matter; she was going to make the most of having her La Huerta family around even if it meant camping out in Reggie’s back yard. “But, I will be a much better San Trobida tour guide than you. I’m still showing you around.”

Reggie hmphed, and Liv laughed.

“Come on, Reggie,” she said, dropping gracefully down the side of the wall and taking up hand-holds. “I’m getting hungry.”

It was at that point that Reggie made the sobering discovery that going down, was rather more intimidating than going up a sheer vertical surface.

“Um, Liv…,” he said quietly. “I, uh, don’t think I can do that.”

“Oh!” Liv responded. “Sorry, I forgot you’re new to this. Maybe you should’ve started smaller. But don’t worry, I’ll get you down….”

“Okay…,” he murmured, clearly not remotely convinced.

“Mom!” Liv hollered, all but making her poor cousin topple over the edge in surprise. “Reggie’s stuck!”

Reggie felt heat rise in his cheeks as his sisters, hanging out on the grass below the wall at the worst possible time, burst out laughing. Like they could even get up this high to begin with.

Up in the tree-house, Estela looked up and wiped off the paint from her hands. Rescuing kids from scrapes had pretty much become her specialty at this point; twelve years with Liv had seen to that. “I’m coming,” she called back.

“I’m not exactly stuck,” Reggie muttered defensively, as his Tia Estela easily scaled the climbing wall to join him and Liv, who’d already rejoined him to offer moral support. “If I really wanted to, I could climb down; I just feel I should practice climbing up a few more times before I try that.”

“You’ll get there,” Estela said kindly. As far as she was concerned, the fact that her nephew had a realistic view of his own capabilities was only a good thing. “I’ll have that zipline going in no time anyway, so you’ll have no hurry to work it out.”

With his aunt’s back offered to him, Reggie took the cue and wrapped his long arms around her neck, and his legs around her middle. Getting rescued by one of the team of protective grown-ups? Basically, the story of both his and Liv’s lives.

“Hang on, Regito,” Estela laughed.

____________________________

La Huerta, 2034

The frigid wind howled against the cabin door, and it took all of Liv and Reggie’s combined might to wrestle it closed. Both kids were panting heavily-- and shaking like leaves-- as they nervously stepped away.

“Thank god this little hut was here, really,” Liv heaved. “I dunno about you, but I’d rather be stranded in a snowstorm with walls around me.”

Reggie said nothing, and just shivered, wrapping his arms around his own torso. He’d wrapped up-- as if his parents would let him go wandering into the colder pockets of the island without a heap of layers-- but the snow had wet his gloves through, and a chill was now spreading through his body.

“Hey,” Liv said, “we should… we should get a fire going. You look like you’re halfway turned into a popsicle right now.”

As his cousin busied herself at the fireplace-- thank goodness there was some firewood left-- Reggie fiddled with his emergency phone. His heart sank. No signal. His mom and dad were going to be so worried when he and Liv never came home….

“Uh, Liv… I think the storm’s screwed up the reception here. It won’t let me phone Mom and Dad.”

Liv looked up, and for the first time, she looked truly fearful, her usual intrepid spirit extinguished in a flash. “They’re really gonna panic,” she said softly. She shuddered. If their parents came out looking for them, it meant walking out into a blizzard, and all the danger that came with it. If she could just tell her mothers that she was safe, that she and Reggie had shelter… they could wait out the storm. Anything could happen, anything….

“Are you okay, Livia?” Reggie asked, and he handed her a heavy blanket as he sat down cross-legged in front of her feebly burning fire. “You look kind of spaced-out.”

“Hng?”

“They’ll find us; it’ll be okay.”

“I don’t want them to come and find us,” Liv snapped. “I want them to stay where it’s safe. They could get hurt or, or worse because we were stupid enough not to turn around when the weather changed.” She placed a stick too roughly, and her firewood tower collapsed, extinguishing the flame. “For fuck’s sake!”

Reggie, wisely, stayed quiet, letting his cousin fix up the mess and get a new fire started without interference. He watched her with concern as her eyes welled. “Livia…?”

She huddled close to him, but for a long while, didn’t speak.

“Reggie,” she murmured at last, “something really horrible happened a couple of weeks ago. I didn’t want to talk about it with you, ‘cause… ‘cause I didn’t even want to think about it…. It just made me feel too bad. But, uh.... I was… I was playing in the sea with Mama Estela. Just like we always do. We were just goofing off. Then, um, I got all tangled up in those freaking weeds. They grabbed me and held me under.”

“That must have been so scary….”

“Of course, Mom got me out of there. B-but there was a sea-snake in there. It bit her. It happened so fast… I hardly even saw what happened, but she suddenly just... could hardly even get out of the water. I somehow managed to haul her up out the water, but she was all limp and… and I gave her the anti-venom, and she just started having some kind of fit.. Like her body was jerking around, and her mouth was all frothy.” She gasped through a sob. “Then she… she stopped breathing, completely.” Liv shuddered as the memory filled her mind, vivid as if it were yesterday. She could feel Reggie’s wide, horrified eyes upon her. “I screamed. I screamed for help. Mama Taylor was up the beach, she couldn’t hear me. S-so I did CPR. My hands were shaking so-- so bad. And all I could think was ‘I’m gonna screw this up. I’m gonna screw this up and my mom’s gonna die’.” Her voice cracked and she sputtered through hot tears that she wiped away with her arm. Before she knew it, Reggie had his arms around her and was holding her tight. “I don’t know how long it was,” she said. “It felt like forever, but it was probably only a few minutes. Then she started breathing and I just… I cried, and cried, and cried.”

Reggie gently rubbed Liv’s back, and it soothed her.

“I, uh, I guess I always thought Mama Estela was invincible. To me, she always was. There was nothing I couldn't do either, because she would always be there to protect me. It was so close, Reggie… it looked like she was gone.”

“I… didn’t know it was as bad as that. My dad told me she’d been bitten but…,” Reggie mumbled. “You must have been so scared. Have you… have you talked to your moms about it much?”

Liv sniffed, and wiped her face again. “Yeah. You know what my Mama Taylor is like; we’ve talked it through lots, I’ve told them how I’m feeling. But I haven’t… like… had a big cry since it happened.” Until now. Now, she just couldn’t seem to stop the tears from coming. Reggie didn’t seem to mind; he just sat with her, and rubbed her back, and told her it was okay.

After what seemed like an age, her tears slowed.

“It is going to be okay, you know?” Reggie said gently. “Obviously, they’re going to come out looking for us, but they’re smart. They’ll be prepared; just like your Mama Estela was with the anti-venom.”

“Yeah…,” Liv said, her voice small. You could be as prepared as you wanted, but sometimes the world managed to stay one step ahead. The storm outside was wild and furious, battering on the roof and walls… and it was frightening. Liv could only snuggle under her cousin’s arm, and trust that whatever search and rescue party was out there would come through.

The two kids huddled together beneath their blanket, speaking little, but making their mutual support known without words. Just the squeeze of a hand through the most blood-curdling howls of the wind, and the simple offer of presence.

Somehow, the creak of the door shoved open cut through the dull roar.

“Oh, thank goodness!”

“Dad!” Reggie leapt forward and flung his arms around his father, his face lighting up further when Grace followed in behind. “Mom!”

Grace put her shaking hands to her son’s face, gently sweeping hair from his eyes. “Darling, are you all right?” Then she pulled Liv into a fierce hug, and in a moment Aleister had his arms around all three of them. “We were so worried!”

Liv whimpered against Grace’s shoulder. “Are my moms out in the storm?” She knew the answer already.

“Yes, honey. They’re out searching for you. Don’t you stress, okay? We’ve got a flare to set off so they’ll know we found you here-- and Varyyn and Diego too.”

“Woah,” Liv murmured, “you got a whole search party out.”

There was a buzzing, and the flickering of blue light, then Iris materialised.

Reggie beamed. “Hey, Grandma! So, a ‘whole search party’ is pretty much correct.”

“I will say, being able to scan for nearby lifeforms is quite handy in situations like these.”

So, find my moms and Tio Diego. Liv hugged tighter to her Auntie Grace, with no words pleading for help.

“Oh, sweetheart,” Grace said gently, stroking Liv’s face, while Aleister saw to setting off the flare. “It’s going to be just fine. We’re not far from Elyys’tel; we all fanned out from there, so no one is going to be too deep into the mountains.”

That… actually made sense. It was enough, just enough to keep Liv a step above panic-mode. She headed back to the fireplace, but as her backside hit the floor, a guttural roar rocked the cabin, and she leapt back to her feet.

“What the--?”

“You two stay back!” Aleister ordered, his voice shaking. Why, oh why, did the children want to go gallivanting out in the frozen wilderness when there was a perfectly serviceable tropical paradise right outside their front door? He was going to be old before his time at this rate….

Grace, though, was already hauling open the door, to reveal the hulking figure of the Mountain Guardian.

A growl rumbling in her throat, Arktos loomed in the doorway, looking down at Grace with a questioning gaze.

“Hello…?” she said cautiously. The gigantic bear-like creature was generally reasonably friendly…. “Did we… did we disturb you with the flare?”

Arktos grumbled, her furry ears flicking with curiosity.

“Our friends are out there in the storm,” Grace continued, certain that the yeti would understand; her past experiences had only supported the fact that this creature was incredibly intelligent-- and benevolent. “The flare was to bring them to this cabin.”

With a soft huff, Arktos shuffled backwards, and all of a sudden, it seemed as though she was surrounded by a force-field… a bubble that the wind and blinding snow couldn’t penetrate.

Understanding, Grace turned to Iris. “I think we’re going hiking again-- with a little extra help this time. Al, you’ll stay and watch the kids?”

“I--I--” Aleister stuttered. “Well, of course. Stay close to the… the bear thing.” Scrambling a little, he pulled off his outer layer and offered it to her. “I won’t have you catching hypothermia.”

And Grace stepped into the snow, Iris hovering behind her, and found shelter in the yeti’s protective shield. She looked up at the beast, now rearing up onto colossal hind legs to scout for signs of nearby human activity. “Thank you, Arktos. I guess… I guess, you choose the direction, and we’ll start the search.”

The unusual trio headed out into the storm, and within moments, they were invisible for the wind thick with snow. Aleister, a look of dumbfoundment upon his face, closed the door, and again, the cabin was quiet.

“Damn. Auntie Grace is a fricking badass,” Liv breathed, face alight in awe.

Aleister, recovering from his wife’s shock exit quickly-- he’d seen her steely courage in action enough times to just about take it in his stride, nodded. “Indeed.” He brushed the last flakes of snow from his coat, and looked around the room. “Well, I don’t suppose the wait will pass any faster with us standing around here. Reggie, did we leave any board-games here last time?”

“Uh, looks like we’ve got ‘Scrabble’?”

Well, Liv thought, I don’t have a hope in hell against these people. Should’ve left ‘Twister’ here….

Reggie sat himself down in front of the crackling fire and started unpacking the box. “Hey, Livia-- team up with me?”

He was clearly still a little worried about her. If there was an opportunity to thrash her at something, Mr Pedantic-Always-Right would take it without fail. Or so Liv had believed.

She plonked down cross-legged beside him. “Yeah? Yeah, all right.”

The two kids exchanged a high five, and Liv couldn’t help but grin. You are going down, Uncle Al.

___________________________

San Trobida, September 2035

As the car pulled up the neatly paved pathway to Aleister and Grace’s house, Liv excitedly rolled down the window.

“Reginaaaaald!!!” she hollered.

“How,” Aleister wondered aloud, “can such a small person-- and the offspring of Estela and Diego of all people-- sound so eerily like a bloody foghorn?”

A beaming Reggie followed his father out the front door. He exchanged hugs with both his parents-- and his two little sisters-- and then rushed to join his cousin on the back seat.

“Are you ready to go, mijo?” Estela checked in, suppressing a laugh as Taylor all but did a contortion act to give her nephew a hug from the front seat.

He had Liv, didn’t he? So, basically, he was ready for anything.

The short drive to the school saw the return of those pesky jitters, and Reggie knew from the way his cousin jiggled her leg the whole way there that he was definitely not alone in that. The school ground, filled only with kids their own age when they’d been there for orientation, was swarming with adolescents of all sizes-- and just about all of them were bigger than Reggie and Liv.

With an awkward hug and a kiss to her mothers in the front of the car, Liv bit the bullet and, bulging backpack in hand, stepped out into a brave new world. There was only one thing for it; Reggie would just have to take the plunge. He swung his backpack over his shoulder, and followed after his cousin.

“Welp,” said Liv, “here goes nothing!”

Reggie gave a nervous laugh and playfully bashed Liv with his backpack, putting a reassuringly silly grin on her face.

We’ve got this.

_______________________

NOTES

Little Xiraana is @mauvecatfic's baby. Check out her stories; you won't regret it!

If you read 'A Ride to Remember', you might remember Miel. She's the very same horse.

Aaaaand, the incident Liv is recounting during the snowstorm is the one you can read from Estela's perspective in 'Teething Problems: Part Two'.

#endless summer #playchoices #liv montoya #reggie hall #graleister #estela x mc #estela montoya #grace hall #aleister rourke #diego soto

23 notes · View notes

slytherinbarnes · 3 years

Text

Sub Rosa [84]

xiii. the blood of sanctum

Pairing: Bellamy Blake x reader

Word Count: 8.1k

Warnings: anxiety, angst, violence, fighting, language, blood.

Summary: All the tension in Sanctum comes to a head, as the believers target the non believers, thanks to the red sun toxin.

a/n: it is 2:30 in the morning so technically it is friday! merry christmas to those that celebrate!!! ALSO IT’S THE SEASON 6 FINALE WHAT THE ACTUAL HELL! HOW DO WE ONLY HAVE ONE SEASON LEFT?! I LITERALLY CAN’T BELIEVE IT! also pls pls pls tell me what you think about this chapter down below! okay, ily!! the taglist for this series is open! I hope you enjoy, please let me know what you think!!!

previous chapter // season masterlist // series masterlist

The banging goes on for what feels like hours, though you're sure it’s significantly less than that.

Still, all of you stay huddled together in the center of the locked building, looking around at the structure, unease heavy in the air as you see the walls shake from the pounding. Bellamy raises his voice to be heard over the noise, “How much longer will this last?”

You warily eye the shaking walls and counter, “It'll last longer than these walls will!”

Nelson shifts beside you and then yells out, “Okay! We move together, firing all directions. Once we get to the stairs, we haul ass to the woods.”

You and Bellamy both turn to him in alarm, instantly arguing, “No way!”

“We're not leaving our people!”

Nelson sighs, but he nods, agreeing to stay with you. The pounding at the doors grows increasingly louder, almost deafening, and the doors shake hard, clearly on the verge of coming down. Bellamy reaches out and squeezes your hand as he says, “Here they come! Knock them out, we tie them up. If we take out enough, eventually they'll stop.”

All of you stand ready, prepared for the fight ahead, but the fight ahead never comes. Instead, everything goes dead silent, alarmingly quiet, the shouting now silenced, the banging on the walls finished. You look around in confusion, until the hairs on your arm start to lift, warning you of an impending danger. Behind you, Echo asks, “Is it over?”

You shake your head, sure that something back is about to happen, but you don't expect to see a gas can drop down from the top of the building, slipped through the cracks of the ventilation gate above you. The gas spreads quickly, you and Bellamy coughing as it hits you two first, and the effects on your body are instant. You feel exhausted, your body heavy, your eyes drowsy, and your limbs turn to jello, giving out beneath you. You collapse to the ground, darkness rapidly closing in around you until it is all you see, all you know, and you fall tumbling into it.

The first thing that comes back to you is the sound around you, the quiet murmur of voices wrapping around you before floating away. Your brain is still too groggy to process who is talking or what they’re saying, but you don't care, because the next thing you notice is the gag pulled tight around your head. Your skin is covered in a thin layer of sweat, your body still processing the gas used on you, and you pull your eyes open slowly, blinking against the dim light.

The world comes into focus quickly, your mind processing the sight in front of you, and you realize you’re in the tavern, sprawled out on the floor, your hands bound in front of you. You sit up, your eyes roaming across the people spread all around inside the room, and you look around frantically for the others. You’re sandwiched between Layla and Bellamy, both of them okay, and Miller is on Layla’s other side. Nelson, Octavia, and Echo are in the row behind you, everyone gagged and restrained the same way, everyone else awake.

A woman in a white robe, adorned with Becca’s symbol, glances at you as you look around, a serene expression on her face. “Good, you're all awake. Let's begin.”

She turns and pulls a knife off the table behind her, and a man comes to stand on her other side, a cup in his hand. She drops down in front of Layla, pulling down the gag, and the man holds the cup near Layla’s mouth as she asks, “Do you or do you not believe in the divinity of the Primes?”

Layla bites back, “You don't need a potion to find out my truth, witch. Primes are not gods, they are liars and murderers.”

The woman shakes her head with disappointment before slitting Layla’s throat without hesitation, killing her. You watch in horror as her body falls, and everyone in your group yells out, the sound muffled from the gags in your mouths. You turn to Bellamy, eyes wide with panic, and he looks back at you, equally worried. Your eyes drop to the knife holster at your side, praying your weapon will be there when you look, but your heart sinks in disappointment when you see that you are unarmed. You hear movement beside you and you watch as the woman drops in front of Miller, kneeling down in front of him and pulling the gag from his mouth. He instantly starts to beg, “You don't have to do this, we're not your enemy.”

“No, you're a disease, and this is the cure.” The cup is brought down and held in front of Miller’s mouth. “Your blood or the blood of Sanctum.”

Miller looks over at you and Bellamy, panicked, and knowing that the only way to live is to drink whatever is in the cup, you both nod, telling him to comply. He reluctantly takes a sip from the cup, and as the woman walks back to the next row, she whispers, “Good.”

She comes to a stop in front of Octavia, repeating the same process she did with Layla and Miller, but before she can ask her question, the door to the tavern swings open, and the people in the room start to kneel and whisper, “Blessed is Daniel. Blessed is Kaylee.”

You turn and watch as Emori and Murphy stride into the room, dressed to the nines, both of them looking incredible. Their hair is done, their make up is too, and they are wearing some of Sanctum’s finest clothes. They split apart, Murphy continuing down the natural aisle that the people have created, while Emori walks around the back of the group, towards you and Bellamy. Murphy glances over all of you and asks, “What is the meaning of this?”

The woman in front of Octavia looks up at them with a smile, “Blessed is Daniel. Blessed is Kaylee. Blessed are the Primes.”

Your brows pull together in confusion. Primes? You know Josephine bribed Murphy into helping her by offering him and Emori immortality, but you didn't think they’d be wiped and replaced by someone named Daniel or Kaylee. Kaylee looks down at the woman, exuding confidence. “Rise and explain yourself.”

She stands and quietly explains, “We are purifying Sanctum, Holiness, as so ordered by Russell Prime, hallowed be his name.”

The others in the room repeat, “Hallowed be his name.”

But Daniel cuts off their reverence, his voice loud and angry, “Russell is not here!”

Kaylee stops in front of Bellamy, her finger lifting to his chin, and you shift slightly, ready to fight for him if you need to. Daniel continues, “He abandoned you! We did not.”

Kaylee tilts Bellamy’s head to the side, towards Daniel, and as you follow the movement, your eyes land on him as he winks, letting you know he’s on your side. Letting you know they aren't Daniel and Kaylee, they’re still Murphy and Emori. Despite your anger at Murphy throughout the chaos of Josephine’s rise and fall to power, you’re relieved that he’s here now, and you’re relieved that he’s really him.

“Adjustments are for our flock. Why are the Earth people here?'' Emori looks at the woman, shaking her head, “You know what? Nevermind. We shall decide what to do with them.”

She looks over at Murphy, suggesting, “Let's take them to the palace.”

He nods his approval, and she turns to the guards that are lingering nearby, snapping her fingers and motioning to all of you, “Help them to their feet.”

The guards descend on all of you, pulling you to your feet, but when they go for Nelson, the woman snaps, “Not him. The Child of Gabriel stays.”

You step towards Nelson, having no intentions of leaving him behind, but Bellamy reaches out and grabs your arm, pulling you back. You look at him in shock, trying to silently communicate that you have to save Nelson too, but he just shakes his head, pushing you in front of him until you fall in line with the others. You’re following Murphy and Emori out the door when they are suddenly stopped by a man, who pulls Murphy into an embrace, and pulls back just enough to press a passionate kiss to his lips. Murphy stands stiff, leaning away from the kiss, until the man pulls away and looks at him with heartbreak. You can't hear what Murphy says, but he pats the man on the shoulder before heading out the door again.

You all follow in an obedient line, and the second you’re outside and the tavern door is closed behind you, all of you pull the gags out of your mouths, ridding yourselves of the uncomfortable sensation. You fall out of line and walk in a small group instead, right behind your Prime friends, and you think of Clarke, running towards the palace the last time you saw her. “Where’s Clarke? And the others?”

Emori mutters back, “Space. There's only Jordan here now, he's our next stop.

“Just keep your eyes down and move calmly.” Murphy looks around at the smaller crowd that is still lingering outside the palace. “These people are still whacked out of their minds.”

From behind you, Miller weakly mutters, “Guys…”

You turn around just in time to see his legs start to give out beneath him, but you and Bellamy reach out and grab him, holding him steady. “It's the toxin.”

Emori motions towards the palace looming behind her, “We just have to get him to the palace. Gabriel's waiting, he'll know what to do.”

You nod and Murphy comes up beside you, taking your place to help support Miller back to the palace alongside Bellamy. As you turn back around, you see that the crowd has started to gather again, stalking towards all of you, looking pissed. “The Earth people! It's their fault Russell left us! Kill them!”

You scream at the others, “Run! Get to the palace!”

Everyone takes off running, and you run ahead of Murphy, Bellamy, and Miller, clearing a path to make sure they aren't stopped by anyone in the crowd. You punch a few people to keep them back, hoping it's enough to give you a head start to the palace, and the crowd grows angrier and more chaotic with each passing second. As you reach the bottom of the stairs, you hear someone cry out behind you, and you turn and see Octavia at the top of the hill, locked in someone’s arms. You nudge Bellamy and Murphy ahead, onto the stairs, and Bellamy looks at you in alarm until you yell, “Go! We’ll catch up!”

They start half running, half dragging Miller up the stairs, and you quickly close the distance between you and Octavia. She sees you coming and tilts her head to the side, giving you an opening to punch the man in the face, knocking him back and away from her. You grab her hand and pull her after you, both of you tearing across the field and up the stairs. You’re the last two to reach the landing, and Gabriel frantically ushers you inside before closing the doors and locking them behind you. You and Octavia lean against them, catching your breath, but you both jump in shock when the crowd finally reaches the doors and starts to pound on them angrily.

Emori motions for you to all follow her down the hall, out of sight, and Gabriel starts to cut the restraints from your wrists quickly, pausing when he reaches you. “I saw Clarke. She was okay when they left, they still think she’s Josephine. Madi is with them too.”

“Thank you.”

He cuts your restraints, his eyes searching yours, and he looks like he has something else to say before he softly shakes his head and changes his mind. Instead he settles on, “My people?”

“Most of them are in the tavern still with Nelson, they wouldn't let us take them. Layla is dead, she refused to accept the Primes as divine.”

His expression drops, and you squeeze his hand in apology. He gives you half a smile, nodding once before motioning down the hall, “C’mon, Jordan has to be around here somewhere.”

You check a few empty rooms, full of nothing but dusty furniture and forgotten memories, until you reach a room at the end of one of the long halls, the quiet murmur of a voice on the other side. Gabriel passes Emori his knife, and she slides it between the door, flipping the lock up, before shoving the doors wide open. Her eyes search the room quickly, falling on a figure sitting cross legged on a bed nearby, and she yells, “He’s here!”

You all file into the room, and Murphy and Gabriel help Miller over to the other bed as you and Bellamy rush over to Jordan. His eyes are open, but his gaze is faraway, his expression blank. “Jordan, we're here. You're safe.”

He says nothing, does nothing, seemingly unaware of your presence at all. Bellamy waves his hand in front of the young man’s face. “Jordan?”

Gabriel finishes with Miller and comes to a stop beside Bellamy. “He's in too deep to respond.”

“Adjustment protocol?”

He nods in confirmation, and your eyes drop from his blank expression to the arms resting on his knees, palms up, blood dripping from a series of cuts on the top of his arms. A cup sits nearby, blood spread around the rim, a deep red liquid sitting inside the glass. “The blood of Sanctum is real blood?”

Gabriel answers, “Only partially. Simone predicted that the bloodletting would deepen the religious experience, but the psychoactive component is pure red sun toxin.”

You and Bellamy share a weirded out look, and as you set the cup back on the tray, you hear someone yell out as they run past you, “Help!”

You turn in time to see a man in white heading towards the door, but Octavia, who is standing nearby, hits him hard as he tries to run past, knocking him out. You give her an impressed look and she smiles in return, the exchange feeling so much like one you’d have when you were part of 100 delinquents on Earth, the memories nearly forgotten from all the changes you've both endured since. Gabriel looks down at the man, and mutters, “Looks like we found the adjuster.”

“I don't understand. We told them the truth, why are they still doing this?”

Octavia turns to her brother, the first one to answer his question, “If they accept the truth, their lives mean nothing. It's why I burnt the farm.”

The confession is impactful, a realization of who she was sliding into place, her motives making more sense to you now than they did then. Bellamy accepts the confession with a meaningful look to his sister, before she mutters, “Help me tie him up.”

As the two siblings tie the adjuster up, Gabriel digs around in his bag, thinking out loud as he does. “We can use that to save the people in the tavern. Cognitive dissonance. They'll believe anything if it reinforces what they want to be true, even that you're still Daniel Lee.”

He finally finds what he’s looking for, the doser for the red sun antitoxin, and he takes a huff of it before holding it out to Murphy, who looks at it in confusion. “Antitoxin again? Why?”

“The blood of Sanctum is more potent than what was in Russell's bomb. You take me in as a prisoner, then once we're inside the tavern-”

Murphy cuts him off, immediately shaking his head. “What? No, no, no, slow down. No way am I drinking that stuff.”

“They're killing nonbelievers. My friend who you left behind is one of them.”

Murphy walks closer to Gabriel, stopping when they're a few feet apart. “Look, I am sorry, but we stayed to save our friends, and we did that. We're all here. If I could help our people in space, I would, but this isn't our fight.”

Everyone else in the room is silent, seemingly on Murphy's side, no one eager at all to join Gabriel’s cause. But you think of the fact that Gabriel saved your twin, and killed the love of his life in the process, despite barely knowing you. Nelson agreed to march by your side to take down Sanctum, and he agreed to stay to help your friends when you were all locked inside that building. And Layla...Layla’s gone now, but she deserves more than to be locked in a room with a bunch of believers who have looked down on her her entire life, just because her blood is red. You step forward, Gabriel’s eyes shifting to you, and you meet his gaze. “This is our fight. It was never about just our people, it’s about Gabriel’s too. I’m going.”

You walk over and stand beside Gabriel, looking at your fiance with an expectant look, well aware of his desire to do better. You see worry flash over his features, and you know he doesn't want you to risk yourself, but before he can agree or disagree, Octavia speaks up. “I’m going too.”

Bellamy looks at her in shock, both his sister and his fiance heading back into the madness, and you see his expression change into one of resignation, well aware that he’s going too. He smiles a little at Octavia, repeating her words from a tent in the middle of the desert while all of you were on the brink of war. “Side by side. Like it was meant to be.”

She smiles at him, and he stands, holding out his hand to her, the gesture meaning much more than just a hand up. It’s a peace offering, and apology, an agreement to forgive each other and start to heal. You smile at them both, happy to see that you were right all along, and that they would be okay. She takes his hand and he pulls her to her feet, both of them walking over to you, and as they do, one more voice pipes up, “I guess it's time to do better.”

You all turn to face Echo, accepting her as part of the team too, and the group finishes up with Emori, who steps in front of Gabriel. “Kaylee Prime at your service.”

“Emori-”

She cuts off her boyfriend, turning to face him with a smile, “John, it's okay. Someone needs to stay behind and look after Miller and Jordan.”

“Excuse me, sorry.” You all turn to look at Gabriel, a sheepish expression on his face. “Kaylee was against the adjustment protocol, it's why they believed it when you took them all away. It has to be Daniel.”

Gabriel again offers the antitoxin to Murphy, who stares at it and then Emori before sighing. “Fine, but if I die, you're bringing me back.”

Gabriel counters with a smile, “No, I'm not.”

“At least lie to me.”

Murphy and Emori exchange a kiss before he inhales the antitoxin, and you all follow Gabriel out of the room, hearing Emori close the doors behind you. Gabriel gathers all of you in the hall, his voice a hushed whisper in case anyone is listening in, “Murphy takes me as a prisoner to the tavern, and we'll both take part in the adjustment. We’ll get control of the inside, and you four will take control of the outside, making sure no one else gets inside. Got it?”

You all nod, letting him know you do, and he mutters, “Good. There’s a tunnel that will lead you outside, and you can use it to stay out of sight. Murphy and I will go out the front door.”

With everyone in agreement, you break apart, Murphy and Gabriel heading for the palace doors, and the rest of you entering the tunnel that Gabriel points out. You find it easily and slip inside, running through the dark passageway until you reach a door that spits you outside, on the side of the palace. Echo motions for all of you to follow her, whispering something about how she knows a spot, and you stick to the darkness of the shadows as you move through Sanctum, careful to keep away from curious eyes.

Echo leads you to a building with a ladder to the top, all of you ascending and getting into position just in time to see Murphy walk up to the doors of the tavern with a knife held to Gabriel’s throat. He yells, “Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the main event of the evening, an adjustment for the demon Gabriel himself!”

The guard at the tavern door knocks, and the door swings open, revealing the adjuster woman from before. Murphy asks, “Got room for one more?”

The woman glares at Gabriel before bowing slightly to Murphy, stepping aside for him to come inside. “Right this way, Holiness.”

They all disappear into the tavern, the doors swinging firmly shit behind them, and Echo stares at the building, her voice quietly reminding all of you, “As soon as someone else knocks on that door, they'll know we took the tavern. Gabriel and Murphy control the inside, we make sure no one else gets inside. If that happens, it'll be on 30 on 4.”

Octavia turns to Echo with a smirk, seemingly burying a lot of her hatchets today. “I like our chances.”

The four of you watch for a few minutes, giving Murphy and Gabriel time to take control, but as you do, the woman adjuster from before comes running out of the tavern, pulling a lock down on the door as she does, locking everyone inside from the outside. She turns to the gathered crowd and yells, “We purify Sanctum through fire! Get the fuel! Soak it down! Together, we send the demon and his false prophet to hell!”

All four of you exchange a look of alarm before you run to the ladder, scrambling down it as fast as you can, not a single plan in mind. All you know is that you can't let them burn the tavern down with Murphy and Gabriel inside. You push through the crowd, stopping a few feet from the woman, a torch now firmly held in her hand. You feel Bellamy, Echo, and Octavia all settle around you, giving you the confidence to glare at the woman. “Leave the torch and back away.”

She doesn't move, her glare now set on you, and Octavia shifts from beside you and adds, “Those are your people in there, help us save them.”

“That's what we're doing.” Her grin sends a chill down your spine, and you can tell she wholeheartedly believes what she’s saying. “Their sacrifice will be a blessing to us all.”

She turns back towards the tavern, prepared to burn it down, and you reach out and grab her shoulder, “Can't let you do that.”

She spins around, swinging the torch towards you, and you dodge it before knocking it out of her hand and into the dirt, away from the fuel. The move sets everything else into motion, and the other believers around the 4 of you start to attack. You can hear your friends fighting back, keeping them away from the fire. The woman tries to swing a punch towards you, but you’re able to grab her fist and stop it, almost shocked at how awful her fighting skills are. You twist her arm and she lets out a cry of pain, and you punch her with your free hand, hard enough that it knocks her out.

You turn around and prepare for the next fight, a large man lumbering towards you, his expression angry. You run at him, ducking beneath his punch, swinging out a punch of your own as you stay low, hitting him between the legs. He lets out a yelp and you swipe his feet from beneath him, giving him one solid kick to the head, knocking him out too. As you turn to fight the next man, Octavia points to someone in the corner of your vision, “I got these guys! Go for the torches! Keep them away from the tavern!”

You turn and see the earlier torch still burning on the ground, and you run over and swipe it up, dunking it in a nearby barrel of water, extinguishing the flame. Before you can search for another torch, someone grabs you from behind, wrapping their arms around you and pinning your own arms at your side. You kick and flail, but it doesn't help, so you lean your head forwards before swinging it back, hearing the person's nose crack as your skull makes contact with it. They drop you from their arms, and you turn and watch a man grab at his nose, moaning in pain, blood gushing between his fingers. You deliver a solid kick to his chest, knocking him back, keeping him away from you.

You hear Bellamy call out your name, and you look up as he holds up a torch, a few people in between the two of you, blocking his way. “Catch!”

He throws the torch towards you, the handle staying level as it flies through the air, and you catch it and put it out in one swift movement, another torch extinguished. You take out three more people on your way to Bellamy, before the both of you fight side by side, taking out the believers with ease. You see Echo extinguish two more torches, and as you look around for other torches to take out, you hear a voice yell, “For the glory and the grace of the Primes!”

You spin towards the source of the voice, the woman adjuster from earlier, who now stands near the tavern, dumping fuel over her head. You watch in horror, too stunned to do anything else, and she quickly grabs the nearest torch and holds it to her skirt, her body instantly erupting in flames. She starts to run towards the tavern, intending to use herself as the match to burn it all down, but Octavia, who is closest to her, runs at her, knocking her to the ground and away from the building.

Your muscles unfreeze as you watch Octavia stumble and roll, her jacket on fire, and you and Bellamy take off running towards her as she pulls her jacket off and puts out the fire. As you pass Echo, Bellamy mutters, “Echo, check on the others.”

She nods, and you continue to Octavia, coming to a stop in front of her, anxiously looking her over for any injuries. “Are you okay?”

She nods, and the two siblings exchange a quick hug as the doors to the tavern open. You all turn and watch Murphy and Gabriel stride out of the building, looking at the collection of knocked out bodies that lay scattered around the area. Murphy looks back at Gabriel with a smirk. “Show offs.”

All of you start to walk towards each other, and Bellamy motions to the surrounding hills. “I counted at least a dozen runners. Watch all sides of the tavern in case they come back.”

Beside Octavia, a man starts to get up, clearly ready to attack again, so she spins around and kicks him in the face, knocking him out for a second time. When she does, her back, which has been covered up until this point, is now on display, a swirl of symbols tattooed onto her skin. A tattoo that clearly none of you recognize, because you all just stare in shock. Gabriel mutters, “When did you get that?”

She turns back around, taking in your shocked expressions, trying to peek over her shoulder at her back. “What? What is it?”

Gabriel closes the space between them, his hand closing on her shoulder “May I?”

She nods, and he turns her around, brushing her hair out of the way to get a better look at the tattoo. There's a small smile on his face, one that indicates he knows more than he’s letting on, and Bellamy sees it too because he asks, “Have you seen that before?”

“The tattoo? No. But I've been studying it for 150 years. We call it the Anomaly Stone, you must have gotten it on the other side.” His hand slides down her shoulder to her forearm, turning her so she looks at him. “Still think you were gone for only a few seconds?”

Echo whispers, “It's beautiful, but what does it mean?”

“Good question.”

Octavia looks up at him, meeting Gabriel’s eyes, her voice a quiet whisper of realization, “It means I have to go back.”

The next few hours are slow and full of anxiety as you wait and hope that Clarke and your friends are able to stop the other Primes and save everyone on the Eligius mothership. But as you wait, you take out any other believers that wake up or try to return and cause trouble, though most of them just wake up, already weaning out of their toxin induced state.

Gabriel checks on them the best he can, making sure they’re okay, and in between patients, he sketches Octavia’s tattoo with a smile on his face. Murphy heads back to the palace to check on Emori, Miller, and Jordan, and the rest of you hang out near the tavern, making sure it stays safe. At some point you wander into the tavern alone, in search of your Grounder knife, the object meaning more to you than you care to admit. It’s different from the moon necklace you always wear, and the Iliad with the note from Bellamy scribbled on the first page, but it’s still a memento, a reminder of who you are. At least for now. It is Wanlida’s knife, the knife of a killer, but maybe one day, it will become just a knife again. Nothing more, nothing less.

As you search around the room, stepping around the toxin stunned people that fell victim to the adjustment protocol, you let out a huff of frustration, no sign of your knife anywhere.

“Are you looking for this?”

You jump, startled, and turn around to see Gabriel walking towards you, your knife held up in his hand. You smile, taking it as he offers it to you. “Yes, thank you.”

The two of you stand there, awkward for a minute, until your gaze falls on the spot that Layla once sat in, her blood stain still on the concrete. Her body is now outside, covered with a sheet, awaiting a proper burial, and Nelson is with her, still recovering from his adjustment. Gabriel follows your gaze and you see his face change before he whispers, “There’s something I have to tell you.”

Something about the tone of his voice makes you look towards him, his expression one of regret. It makes your stomach drop and anxiety prickle along your skin, hyperaware that his expression is not a good sign. “What? What is it?”

“Your mother…” You feel your knees start to shake, like your body knows what’s coming before you do. “Russell used her as a host for Simone. Your mother is dead.”

And just like that, your knees give out. Gabriel catches you before you hit the floor, and you see his mouth moving, saying something to you, but your brain doesn't process anything. All you hear is the roaring of blood in your ears, muffling everything else. Your vision blurs, blinded by tears, and you swear you hear a wailing sound, something akin to heartbreak, and it takes you a while to realize it’s coming from you. At some point, Bellamy runs into the room, attracted by your sounds of grief, no doubt, and Gabriel must explain the situation to him before you are passed over to him, scooped up in your fiance’s arms and carried up the stairs and into your shared bedroom.

Bellamy lays you gently in the bed, before he crawls in beside you and pulls you into his arms, and you cry as he hums Clair de lune to you, his hands rubbing comforting circles over your back. He understands your pain, because you are now in the same position he is. You are an orphan. Your mother is gone, your father is gone, both of them dead before you could say goodbye. And now, you and Clarke are the last of the Griffin line, besides Madi, left in this world without a mom or a dad to help you. And just like Sanctum, you once had two suns in your life, your mom and Madi. Except now, with your mother gone, one of your suns has burned out, taking some of the light of the world with her.

The loss is devastating, punctuated by the fact that though your relationship was no longer rocky like it was in the beginning, you had grown distant from your mother. You spent six years apart from her, a time in which she went through things you could never understand, a time in which she developed a drug habit to cope with her pain. And after everything, the bunker, the war for Shallow Valley, discovering a new planet; you barely saw her on Sanctum, your mother too focused in her quest to save Kane. A quest that now will no longer be carried out by her. Your heart hurts at the thought that you didn’t get to tell her goodbye, or that you loved her, so many words left unsaid. All you can hope for now, is that she’s at peace, scattered amongst the stars with your father, both of them reunited again.

You end up falling asleep for a while, and you wake up to Gabriel and Bellamy quietly talking near the entrance to your room. You sit up, wiping your eyes, staring at the two men, and Gabriel looks at you before muttering, “We leave when the others return, if you change your mind.”

Bellamy nods and closes the door behind him, coming to sit on the bed beside you, giving you a sad smile. “How are you feeling?”

You ignore him and counter, “What was that about?”

“What?”

“Gabriel said ‘if you change your mind, we leave when the others return’. What is he talking about?”

Bellamy sighs, “Gabriel and Octavia are heading back to his camp to investigate the connection between the Anomaly Stone and the tattoo on Octavia’s back. Echo already volunteered to go, but he invited us to go with him too. I told him we were going to stay here."

"I want to go."

"What?"

Bellamy looks at you in confusion and you repeat, "I want to go."

"You just found out about your mom."

"Which is why I want to go. It's too much right now, too much to process. And being here, in Sanctum, where I almost lost Clarke and I did lose my mother...I can't take it. I want to get away, even if it's just for a few days. I want to distract myself with the complexities of whatever the hell this Anomaly Stone is. I just want to go."

He nods, understanding, before whispering, "I'll tell Gabriel we changed our mind."

He starts to stand and leave, but you realize there's still part of your question he didn't answer. You reach out and grab his hand, stopping him. "Wait, he said ‘when the others get back'."

"Oh." Bellamy smiles at you, “The transport ship was seen landing in the field a few minutes ago, so Clarke and the others should be here soon."

You jump into action as soon as the words leave his mouth, off the bed and to the door before he even realizes. You tug him behind you, down the stairs and into the tavern, and then out the door and across Sanctum, towards the palace. You look around, no reunions currently being held, meaning they must not be back yet, but you do spot Gabriel and walk over to him. He and Bellamy talk, and Bellamy tells him the two of you are going with him, but you don't pay them any attention, your eyes firmly locked on the stairs that lead into Sanctum. Finally, just when you start to think you should go search for them yourself, you see heads start to crest over the hill, walking up the stairs to level ground.

You take off running before anyone can stop you, your eyes locked on Clarke and Madi, who are at the front, hands locked, looking around for you. When you are halfway to them, Madi spots you and breaks her hold on Clarke's hand before she starts running towards you, the two of you colliding in a hug. You laugh as the two of you squeeze each other tight, relieved and full of joy to be reunited. Clarke comes running up a second later, and you let go of Madi to greet her, tears rising in both of your eyes as soon as you lock gazes. Clarke tucks her head into the crook of your shoulder, her familiar place, a bracelet on her wrist twinkling as she lifts her arm to wrap around you. You almost smile, the stars now returned to their rightful place, until you remember why both of you are crying. Your mom is dead. Clarke pulls away to look at you, her voice quiet, cracked with grief when she whispers, "I had to kill her, it wasn't her anymore."

"I know."

"She was floated." She doesn't say the second part of her sentence, though you hear it in your heart. Just like dad. Tears spill down your faces, and she adds, "I tried to do better. I did, and then I lost mom. Tell me it was worth it."

You grab her hand, squeezing tight, both of your bracelets shaking from the movement. "It was. We did. We did better. I have to believe that matters."

She nods, and you see her gaze shift to someone over your shoulder, seconds before he walks up beside you. Clarke and Bellamy exchange a hug, and he whispers his condolences to her, offering her the comfort that only a best friend can. You watch them, and Madi slips her hand into yours, as all around you reunions are occurring. Jackson and Miller stand nearby kissing, Raven is squeezed in between a Murphy and Emori group hug, Indra and Gaia are standing side by side. Reunions are held amongst the dead and dying, the people of Sanctum still suffering in pain, the chaos of the night before not forgotten. A chaos that you are eager to leave behind, your grief tied to it, both of them twisted together into a painful little present.

You brief Clarke on the Anomaly Stone mission and invite her to come along, and though she understands your need for escape, because it was an escape she previously went on, she tells you that she wants to stay behind this time, and make sure that Sanctum starts to pick up the pieces from the night before.

Wonkru is now awake, along with the Eligius prisoners, and she promises that all of you will come back to a village working together in harmony, all three groups united. Before you leave, Clarke takes out all the stitches from your Earth injuries, save for the ones on your calf, which still needs more time to heal. The rest of your Earth injuries though, along with Bellamy’s, have started to fade, forming scars that tell the stories of all the pain you’ve endured. You and Bellamy briefly admire your matching scars, etched into your left shoulders, before an antsy Gabriel interrupts you, eager to leave Sanctum behind.

You, Bellamy, Octavia, Gabriel, and Echo all head back to Gabriel’s camp together, exchanging stories of what all of you have missed. Octavia tells your group about being left behind, finding Diyoza, eventually finding Gabriel, and then losing Diyoza to the Anomaly, herself coming out okay. You tell Octavia what she missed in Sanctum after her banishment, including your kidnapping by the Children of Gabriel. Bellamy takes over and tells all of you about the confrontation with Josephine and how he got her outside the shield before they too were taken by the Children of Gabriel. Echo tells all of you what you missed after that, including Madi succumbing to Sheidheda’s influence and stabbing Jordan, nearly watching everyone burn at the stake until they agreed to harvest bone marrow from Madi, your mom turning herself into Nightblood to save Madi, and eventually your mom becoming Simone’s next host. She also tells you that while you were gone, they all found out that Kane died. He survived his procedure into a new host, but he floated his new body, along with the Nightblood Serum, just so the Primes couldn't have it.

You and the Blake siblings take the information hard, all of you having regarded Kane as a father figure at one point or another. But you are the first one to package your grief for Kane into an arrow and send it flying back to Sanctum to join the rest of your grief that you are steadily trying to outrun. Before you know it, you make it back to Gabriel’s camp, and he leads you all inside of the tent, motioning for you to gather around as he pulls the rubber panels that make up the floor away, tossing them to the side, revealing an old hatch. “I have to tell you I'm very excited about this. I've been studying those symbols since we found the stone, we built the camp here because of it.”

He lifts the hatch, revealing a short ladder into the ground, and he climbs down inside. All of you file down the ladder after him, standing at the base of it, staring at the object hidden from the world beneath this camp. It’s a large ball, made of metal, designed in the same swirl on Octavia’s back. The entire thing is covered in different symbols, and somehow, the ball is floating, supported by nothing. All four of you stare it in shock, not believing what you’re seeing, and Gabriel just smiles at you, glad you��re just as enamored as he is. Octavia whispers, “The tattoo.”

Gabriel walks towards the stone, Octavia right behind him, as he says, “It's thousands of years old. We have no idea who made it or what generates the magnetic field that holds it up, but we're pretty sure it's what sucks in all the radio signals.”

You peer at the stone, all of the symbols one color. But the tattoo on Octavia’s back has black symbols intermixed with red ones, and you whisper your realization, “Some of the symbols on her back are red, it's a code.”

“Very good. We're about to find out what it's for.” Gabriel holds his hand out to Octavia, “May I see the drawing, please?”

She pulls the drawing of the tattoo from her pocket, passing it to him, and he unfolds it, searching the stone for each of the red symbols, and then touching them with two fingers, the symbol humming beneath his touch. As he works, Bellamy asks, “What happens if you're right?”

“I filled 100 notebooks with possible answers to that question.” He comes to a stop in front of the last signal, now standing beside Octavia. He turns to her, a small smile on his face. “The last symbol in the series is called an octonion. Advanced mathematics way above my head, but I don't think it's a coincidence you share a name. Please, it should be you.”

He gestures to the symbol, and she hesitates for a second before touching it, the symbol humming beneath Octavia’s touch. With the last symbol entered, you all stand waiting, staring at the stone in search of what’s going to happen next. Except, nothing happens, the moment stretching on for too long, and Gabriel’s face falls as he looks down at the sketched out tattoo again. “No, no, no, no, no. It can't be right, we must have got something wrong.”

As he turns to look at Octavia, a low rumble starts to shake the ground above, a sound not unnoticed by your fiance. He holds up his hand to Gabriel, gesturing for him to stop talking. “Quiet.”

All of you stand perfectly still, the rumbling growing increasingly louder, a strange green glow coming from the ground above the hatch. Gabriel looks up with a smile, the paper in his hand slipping from his grip, floating to the ground. “Oh, my God. I knew it.”

He bolts past all of you and heads up the ladder incredibly fast, and all of you scurry after him, trying to keep up. When you get into the tent, it is flapping and shaking like you're in the middle of a windstorm, and a bright green light surrounds everything, casting an eerie glow. The sound is almost deafening, and you yell to be heard above it, “What the hell is this?”

Octavia just ominously whispers, “She's here.”

You look at her, taking note of the shocked expression on her face, very different from the confused expression on your own. She starts to walk forward slowly, and you hear a high pitched whine from the mouth of the tent, seconds before a figure starts to step inside. It's a girl, not much older than you are, her hair done up in two buns. She has symbols like the ones tattooed on Octavia back, except hers are on her face, etched across her cheeks and forehead. Octavia laughs when she sees the girl, a sound of happy shock, and she says, “Hope.”

You all look at Octavia, wondering what the hell is going on, and the girl, Hope, answers, “I couldn't get out of it, he has my mother. I'm so sorry, Octavia.”

They embrace, pulling each other into a hug, one that seems stiff and awkward, and Bellamy watches on, his anxiety growing. He yells, “Octavia, what's happening?”

Octavia leans up and whispers something in the girl’s ear, the words lost to all of you over the roar of whatever is happening around you, and as soon as she finishes talking, they pull apart. Hope steps backwards, a knife in her hand, the tip coated in blood, and Echo yells, “Knife!”

The pieces fall together, and you and Bellamy look at O, who starts to fall backwards, clutching her side. Bellamy catches her, his voice worried as he mutters, “O.”

Echo runs over to Hope and restrains her, along with Gabriel, as Bellamy holds his sister in his arms, you right at their side. You reach out to Octavia, pulling her layers aside to get a look at the wound, and as you do, you hear another high pitch whine, seconds before a bright green cloud slides into the tent, washing over Octavia and then pulling away. As the green glow subsides, you and Bellamy stare at his now empty arms, his sister carried off by the bright beam of light. You look up at each other, sharing a look of disbelief, trying to confirm that you both saw the impossible. He looks back down at his shaking hands, her blood covering one of them, evidence that Octavia was here, and then he turns and heads for the exit of the tent looking for her. You follow him outside, Hope collapsing as you walk past, but you ignore her, following your fiance out into the woods, the bright green light subsiding, returning back to where it came from.

The woods outside are empty, devoid of any sign of Octavia, no blood, no clothing, no nothing left behind as proof that she was out here. Bellamy spins in place, tears falling down his cheeks, his voice breaking with worried desperation as he yells, “Octavia! Octavia! Octavia!”

And there’s nothing for you to do but watch as the love of your life falls apart, finally understanding the grief you felt when you lost Clarke.

Dropping to his knees, Bellamy starts to cry, a broken man now without the only blood family that he had left.

The last of the Blake line,

frantically falling apart,

alone.

next chapter

#the 100 #the 100 rewrite #bellamy blake #bellamy blake x reader #bellamy blake fanfiction

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a-secret-bolton-vampire · 3 years

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Daenerys Stormborn, Part 1: From Pentos, to Vaes Dothrak, from Qarth, to Slaver's Bay

I've decided since this tiny post; I'll write about Dany. But there's so much I can talk about that I will most likely write between other essays (unless I feel otherwise). Daenerys Targaryen is my favourite character in ASOIAF. She's an incredibly complex character, and one whose fate interests me quite a lot. Of all the endings in the show, Dany's made me the saddest and angriest. Not only did they rush and make her turn a "twist" that happened on a dime, but it fed into the Mad Queen theories that I really despised.

Can't a powerful women with dragons not go mad with power and become prone to hysteria? Also, can said woman not be murdered by her lover/nephew as a way to give said lover more pain instead of having any meaningful end to her arc? And can said woman not have been "an insane tyrant the whole time"? I may one day vent on season 8, but I won't. Instead, I want to attempt to make sense of the ending we saw in the show, and how it applies to the books. Bit by bit, I will build up to Dany's ultimate role in the series. But first, we need to set the groundwork for it.

(CW: Rape)

The Last Dragon

The first we see of Daenerys, she is a very shy girl who was under the thumb of her physically and psychologically abusive brother Viserys. With no agency, she was married off as essentially a marital slave to be raped by Khal Drogo. However, after some meaningful dragon dreams, Dany began to try and take advantage of her surroundings to give herself power. Of course, Viserys didn't like this very much. Dany was everything Viserys wasn't.

Whereas Viserys was incredibly narcissistic and had no real feelings for anyone other than himself, Daenerys shows empathy to those lower than her. While Viserys was prone to violent outbursts of intense rage and did not think things through very well, Dany is more measured, perceptive, and intelligent (not to say she's infallible, nobody in this world is infallible). As Daenerys became more and more loved by Drogo and the Dothraki, Viserys found himself jealous that she was better received than him, the lawful heir to the Targaryen dynasty.

This culminated in Viserys threatening to cut Rhaego out from her, and Drogo pouring molten gold onto his face to kill him. Good riddance, fuck Viserys. Anyways, she then tries to convince Drogo to cross the narrow sea to invade Westeros, but he stubbornly refuses until an assassin hired by Robert attempts to poison her and is caught, at which point he vows to do so. In her first real experience with war, when the khalasar sacks a Lhazareen village, Dany is disturbed to see all the innocent men being massacred and the women being gang raped, so she decides to take the women under her protection, which earns her resentment from some of Drogo's bloodriders.

I don't think Dany was quite aware of what war and conquest would look like until the village, and she was horrified by what she saw. During the sack, Drogo was wounded slaying Khal Ogo, and with Dany's urging, one of the women she took under her protection, Mirri Maz Duur, agreed to heal his wound. Of course, being a maegi, she is hated and not trusted by the Dothraki. Regardless, Mirri heals Drogo's wounds and they continue on until Drogo collapses from a fever, having removed the poultice of his wound.

From there, Dany's hold on the khalasar is weakening. Her power is really tied to Drogo's, as Dothraki society is extremely misogynistic and views women as lesser beings. Desperate to save him, she turns to Mirri for any magic she could use to heal him. This decision is what finally breaks the khalasar, several of the bloodriders try to kill her, and in that time, another one of the women Dany rescued, Eroeh, was gang raped and murdered by Jhaqo and Pono. The result is Daenerys being left with what can't be more than 100 people out of the original 100,000 or so people in the khalasar.

However, Dany suffers another crushing loss; her child Rhaego. While Mirri says that death may pay for life, and she sacrifices Drogo's horse, the real price was Dany's unborn child. She did so because Rhaego was to be the stallion who mounts the world, a prophesied leader of all Dothraki who would become a great conqueror. In addition, Drogo is "healed", but permanently left in a catatonic state. When Dany asks Mirri when he will be back to normal, Mirri says;

"When the sun rises in the west and sets in the east," said Mirri Maz Duur. "When the seas go dry and mountains blow in the wind like leaves. When your womb quickens again, and you bear a living child. Then he will return, and not before."

Dany seems to take this to mean "never", and is heartbroken, so she mercy kills him by smothering him with a pillow.

Throughout the first book, Dany has a series of dreams and visions involving dragons, the most telling of which was her "wake the dragon" fever dream she had during Mirri's ritual. As a result, and to get vengeance for her husband and child, Dany decides to tie Mirri on a stake to Drogo's funeral pyre, as well as placing the dragon eggs with Drogo. Then, when it is lit, and Mirri burns alive, Dany walks into the flames. Everyone thinks she is mad, that she is out of her mind, but Dany seems to think this is all part of her destiny.

And sure enough, when the fire burns out, she is unburnt (save for her hair), and she has three newly hatched dragons. The "wake the dragon" dream also features, near the end, her opening the red door of the house she stayed in as a young child in Braavos, and finding herself under the visor of Rhaegar's helmet, as Jorah repeats "the last dragon". Dany's journey in the first book is about taking control of herself and her family's legacy.

Early on, she realizes that Viserys will never conquer the Seven Kingdoms, and although Viserys originally had Dany marry Drogo to get an army of his own, the khalasar eventually became Dany's army. And when Viserys died, Dany decided it was her responsibility to do what he could not; take back the Iron Throne for her family. And then, at her absolute lowest, when she has lost practically the entire khalasar, her husband, her child, she gains three dragons.

Viserys believed that his name made him a Targaryen, that being King meant he was a true Targaryen. His anger was a tool to assert his dominance as a Targaryen, to get others to bend to his will. He has immense pride for his family, which turned into unchecked narcissism. But for all his talk, Viserys was no true Targaryen, and no true dragon. Dany even thinks this just after he dies.

He was no dragon, Dany thought, curiously calm. Fire cannot kill a dragon.

Dany has brought dragons back to the world, a symbol of the power Targaryens had, back to life. She was not killed by the fire of Drogo's pyre (of course, she isn't fireproof, this was a one time weird occurrence). She is a true dragon, a true Targaryen, who is truly following in the footsteps of her family.

The Lost Dragon

During the Drogo pyre fire (hah), a red comet appeared in the sky. Believing that she has a bigger purpose, and that the comet was sent for her, she and her khalasar follow it, into the Red Waste. Despite thinking this is a sign for her future, she is mostly lost and unsure what to do. With enemies all around, the Red Waste is the only way to go. They find the abandoned city of what she calls Vaes Tolorro, and she sends out her bloodriders to look for what is around.

Eventually, Jhogo returns with three representatives of Qarth; Xaro Xhoan Daxos, Pyat Pree, and Quaithe. They bring her back to Qarth, where she is showered with gifts and given part of Xaro's own palace to stay at. She begs an audience with the Pureborn, the descendants of the kings and queens of Qarth, but they reject her plea for aid in conquering Westeros. Xaro meanwhile suggests marriage, but only as a means to steal her dragons for himself. Quaithe gives very cryptic and vague as hell prophecies to Dany.

With no one left to turn to for aid, Dany decides to seek answers from the warlocks at the House of the Undying, drinking shade of the evening and having numerous visions. When she finally finds the Undying, they seem to be trying to steal her life force, only for Drogon to set them alight. After that, with no way to leave Qarth and refusal to be sent off with any ships, Dany is stuck, and is the subject of an assassination attempt by the Sorrowful Men, sent by Pyat Pree, only for it to be thwarted thanks to Barristan.

On surface level, Dany's ACOK arc is less eventful and straightforward than AGOT; she remains in roughly a single location the entire time, with only two major events occurring (the Undying visions & the attempted assassination). However, after such a journey in AGOT, it makes sense for her story to slow down a bit before speeding back up in ASOS. After finally embracing the responsibility of carrying the Targaryen legacy her brother failed to live to, Dany now has to deal with the fact of how important she is and what her next moves are.

Despite Qarth being so beautiful and splendid, with seemingly everyone ready to provide aid for her quest to conquer Westeros, it is all an illusion. They see someone who is now one of the most powerful people in the world, someone they can use to manipulate for their own ends and gain power for themselves. Quaithe tells Dany as much:

Last of the three seekers to depart was Quaithe the shadowbinder. From her Dany received only a warning. "Beware," the woman in the red lacquer mask said. "Of whom?" "Of all. They shall come day and night to see the wonder that has been born again into the world, and when they see they shall lust. For dragons are fire made flesh, and fire is power."

Dany thinks to herself that there must've been a reason the comet led her to Qarth, as part of her belief that she is heavily tied to destiny.

"The comet led me to Qarth for a reason. I had hoped to find my army here, but it seems that will not be. What else remains, I ask myself?"

So what was the reason she was in Qarth? In my opinion, it was partly to teach her a lesson in not trusting people, but mostly knowledge. The House of the Undying is a massive moment in the series, as it lays out many future events of the series before us (and her!) that are very cryptic and hard to uncover. I will one day examine the full scope of the visions of the Undying, but I want to focus on the narrative reason for this.

Daenerys has a strong sense of destiny. The hatching of the dragons, the red comet, the visions, they all have to mean something, lead toward this grand destiny of hers. I think that a lot (but not all) of the visions Dany experiences are relevant to her future, and lay out a lot of what she will experience/do in the last two books. The prophecies she learns (especially concerning being the "slayer of lies", "three treasons", "three fires", and "three mounts") stay with her into ADWD, where Quaithe once again appears and asks she remember the Undying.

Prophecies are also very common in Greek tragedies, and also appears in Macbeth, a tragedy written by Shakespeare, wherein Macbeth seeks out the knowledge of the witches again out of fear that he will lose his position as king. Daenerys is aware that there will be three treasons committed against her, as well as three fires she will light, and three mounts she will ride, and that there are three heads of the dragon. She constantly considers in ADWD whether these prophecies are coming true, that she finds confusing and suspicious, frustrated even.

In short, the Undying is not just a window into the future, but more of an exploration of the effect prophecy has on a young person like Daenerys who so strongly believes in destiny. She also learns in a vision of Rhaegar about something called "the song of ice and fire", which seems to be extremely significant, and that she will be at the centre of the climactic events of the series.

In the end, it is not herself or the Qartheen who get her out of Qarth, but a disguised Barristan Selmy, sent with three ships by Illyrio to bring her back to Pentos. Dissatisfied with her time in Qarth, she decides to return to Pentos with Barristan... but Pentos is not where she ends up, not even close.

The New Dragon

After leaving Qarth and the return west, Jorah, mistrustful of Illyrio, instead convinces Dany to turn the ships to Astapor and buy Unsullied slave soldiers to help in her conquest of Westeros. Stopping by Astapor, she finds a hellish place, red bricks, tortured slaves, and narcissistic slave masters who have no regard or empathy for anyone other than themselves. Disgusted by what she has seen, Dany formulates a plan entirely in her own head; she decides to buy all the Unsullied by giving Drogon over to Kraznys.

Only she didn't. She only did that to gain control of the Unsullied, before burning the masters and freeing all the slaves. As she tells Xaro later in ADWD, despite being surrounded by slaves with the Dothraki and in Qarth, she did not see how horrible it could be until she got to Astapor and saw how the slaves were tortured. She had the power to try to end it, and decided to take it upon her hands. So instead of heading to Westeros, she decides to liberate Yunkai and Meereen as well.

It's easy to be frustrated at Dany's Essos arc, especially since it doesn't really interact with the Westerosi plot where the majority of the action is taking place, but I think it's important that Dany repeatedly is given an option to go to Westeros, but instead stays in Essos. Progressions in real life are rarely linear, and I applaud GRRM for being able to have clear character arcs while not having the progression be entirely linear and staying true to life.

After Astapor, Yunkai fears what will happen to them as she approaches and hires two sellsword companies for aid. Instead, Dany purposefully lies to the Yunkish envoy and the sellswords, and gives the later wine to get drunk on (and an offer to join her) while she attacks at night. Daario, a lieutenant of the Stormcrows, is won over by Daenerys, kills his fellow captains, and defects to her side. Yunkai is defeated, and the slaves are let go. However, unlike Astapor, Dany does not put an end to the Wise Masters. For this, she is hailed by the freedmen as "mhysa!" or "mother". The Second Sons also join Daenerys after the battle.

Then they move on to Meereen, who has decided to crucify a little slave girl for each mile as a marker from Yunkai to Meereen. When she arrives, the Meereenese champion is easily defeated, and Mero, the former captain of the Second Sons, attempts to kill Dany in her camp, but is promptly killed by Arstan Whitebeard, who is then revealed to be Barristan, who reveals Jorah has been spying on Daenerys for King Robert.

Daenerys takes Meereen and crucifies the 162 Great Masters as retribution for the 162 slave girls crucified. When Barristan explains why he did not tell her who he was, she accepts and forgives him, but she finds she cannot forgive Jorah and banishes him. And of course, instead of leaving for Westeros, she decides to stay in Meereen, after learning that Astapor has been left in the hands of a butcher king named Cleon, overthrowing a council she had instilled when she left, and proposing war against Yunkai, which she just liberated.

Worried about what the effects would be if she simply left Meereen for Westeros, she decides to stay in Meereen and rule as its queen. I decided to call this section "the new dragon" because of Daenerys dismantling an institution her own ancestors helped found. The Ghiscari of Old Ghis had slavery of their own, which they ended up teaching to their new conquerors, the Valyrians. Then, after the Doom, slavery continued again, only this time it was now being practiced by the Free Cities, who are in constant trading with the masters of Slaver's Bay.

As she notes, they keep to the Ghiscari gods, and their symbol is of the harpy, a symbol of Old Ghis, but they no longer speak Ghiscari, instead speaking High Valyrian. Slavery was something the dragonlords of Old Valyria engaged in routinely, and that legacy is still all over Essos. In a way, she is undoing the sins of her ancestors past, and trying to make the world a better place and fighting injustice by using her dragons.

In contrast to ACOK, where she seems as yet undecided on what exactly her destiny is, she seems to be taking control of it in ASOS, becoming Mhysa, the Breaker of Chains, a saviour to those who have been enslaved. It is at this point that she starts to gain a serious following, one that I only assume will continue to grow in Essos. Because of her actions in fighting against slavery, she not only becomes a real saviour to the freedmen, but she also becomes a messianic figure to the followers of R'hllor, as a reincarnation of Azor Ahai.

This is where Dany goes from being simply the last Targaryen, the last dragon, and into a legendary, almost mythic, god-like figure. In my future essays, I will expand upon this aspect of her, since it is going to be really important moving forward, but the start of that is here in ASOS. And thus, this will be where I am concluding part 1. AGOT had Daenerys starting low, but eventually learning to rise up and realize she has to be the one to carry on the Targaryen legacy, after knowing Viserys would never live up to it.

ACOK had Dany questioning her destiny, as well as figuring out what her next step is after the miraculous birth of her dragons. And ASOS concludes her act 1 arc, by having her take control of her destiny and becoming a truly legendary figure who is changing the world. In part 2, I will be discussing in depth the thematic and personal struggles Daenerys faces as she is ruling Meereen in ADWD, and what those struggles and their resolution means for her future.

#asoiaf #asoiaf meta #daenerys targaryen #daenerys stormborn #house targaryen #asoiaf character arcs #essos #mother of dragons

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lov3nerdstuff · 3 years

Text

Voluptas Noctis Aeternae {Part 7.6}

*Severus Snape x OC*

Summary: It is the year 1983 when the ordinary life of Robin Mitchell takes a drastic turn: she is accepted into Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Despite the struggles of being a muggle-born in Slytherin, she soon discovers her passion for Potions, and even manages the impossible: gaining the favor of Severus Snape. Throughout the years, Robin finds that the not quite so ordinary Potions Professor goes from being a brooding stranger to being more than she had ever deemed possible. An ally, a mentor, a friend... and eventually, the person she loves the most. Through adventure, prophecies and the little struggles of daily life in a castle full of mysteries, Robin chooses a path for herself, an unlikely friendship blossoms into something more, and two people abandoned by the world can finally find a home.

General warnings: professor x student, blood, violence, trauma, neglectful families, bullying, cursing

Words: 1.4k

Read Part 1.1 here! All Parts can be found on the Masterlist!

______________________________

A glimpse into the fifth week of travels (or the fourth week of July):

"This place is incredible!" Robin marveled at the high columns and the even higher ceiling that spanned out so far into the distance that it was too dark to see. She was impressed beyond measure, taken aback by the sheer size and grandeur even though she couldn't see all of the hall they had just entered. And a hall it really seemed to be, like the open space of a cathedral, but ancient, underground, and filled to a third at least with deep black water. The only dry space posed the stairs at the edge of the grand room, which were running along the wall from the high entrance level down to the deep blackness. That was where they were currently descending to.

"Fascinating indeed." Snape replied in equal curiosity about the unique place, as he followed Robin down the narrow staircase, all the way down to where it led into the water. "Do you think it has always been flooded like this?"

"I honestly have no idea. Neither do I know how a ten foot fish is supposed to live down here, nor how it's gotten to this place."

"Well, what do you know about this place then?"

"Not much, admittedly. I only read about its existence in a book that's older than I even care to admit, as well as some specifics about the living conditions in places like this in the country."

"Places like this? I sincerely doubt there are other places like this anywhere in the world at all."

"Well… not exactly like this, of course. But water and darkness and no movement nor exchange of streams… that's probably close enough." Robin replied softly, but even in their quiet tones, their voices echoed off the high stone ceiling and distant walls in an eerie manner. In addition to the lumos' bright but cold toned greenish light, the entire place had an otherworldly feel to it in general. Like it wanted to swallow them with its darkness, and their little bubble of light served as their only protection.

"So tell me, why exactly didn't you want to tell me what exactly today's method is going to look like? Acquiring a giant fish's scale surely isn't as easy as simply 'going fishing'." Snape inquired as they reached the edge of the water, and he observed with a curious frown how Robin simply dropped her backpack on a higher step in the security of the dry.

"You wouldn't have believed me if I had told you, so I'll just have to show you." Robin replied in amusement, smirking to herself for making things a mystery for once. This was one of her newest theories, she had only come up with it in the first week of summer while bored at her parents' house. In that sense, it was as unrefined as it would get. And yet here they were, seeing as finding the right place at least had proven to be a success. Hopefully the next step would, too. "And I haven't really tried this before either, so consider it a Plan A, for now."

"You never cease to build suspense…" He sighed in return, and his frown only grew when Robin took off her boots and socks and placed them next to her bag. "...and you never cease to confuse me either; what exactly are you doing? Certainly not going for a swim in that blackness, which is inhabited by who knows which horrors, are you?"

"I don't have a deathwish, no." Robin laughed in return, and gave him one of her most reassuring smiles. "I just want to try out something. If it doesn't work, we can go over to Plan B, alright?"

"Fine."

"Would you, uh…" Now there was the part where Robin could technically do it alone, but honestly didn't want to. Her heart was beating faster than it should anyhow, and asking for help, even if for this kind of help, certainly wouldn't change that for the better. "Would you give me your hand? Please?"

After two seconds of surprise or confusion, or both perhaps, Snape did as she had asked without a comment and Robin held onto him tightly as she took a deep breath. Really, holding his hand never ceased to overwhelm her senses with rushes of energy and tingles. But they were here to work, and she had asked to hold his hand for entirely professional reasons. Well, almost entirely… She tried to ignore it either way and went on with the plan. For a short moment she focused on the spell she had come up with those few weeks ago, took another deep breath, and then took one large step forward into the water. Or rather, onto the water.

An instantaneous relief overcame her as she saw that it actually had worked, she was standing on top of the water's surface just as she had planned. A few reluctant steps around the staircase on top of the deep water confirmed that her spell was working perfectly fine, and yet she still stayed close enough to still hold onto Snape's hand. Bloody hell, she really could walk on water. Amazing! With the biggest smile on her face, she looked up from her rolled up jeans and naked feet to Snape in front of her, who only seemed beyond surprised at what he saw.

"Impressed?" Robin couldn't help asking with a smirk, and she positively noted how it was him now who held onto her hand tightly. Perhaps he was afraid she would go under and vanish after all…

"How?" Was all he asked after a few seconds of silence.

"Well, you see, when I thought of this spell I had some inspiration from my parents' guests from the US… Very religious people, they keep talking about God and Jesus all day, and I'm sure you can see the connection to the spell there. And from that point forth, it really was only a day's worth of research." She shrugged with the very same smile as before. "The spell freezes the surface of the water in time. Or to start explaining at the beginning, I had to think of skipping tones over the water. They touch the surface for a very brief time only, and therefore they don't go under. To recreate that effect I would either have to be really really fast…"

"Or to slow the water down." He added with a sincerely impressed expression that made no secret of his utmost fascination, and perhaps even a little admiration as well. "How are you even able to mess with time? I haven't got the slightest idea about it, and neither should you."

"I researched time turners. Someone had to make them at some point, which means that there had to be spells to mess with time. Admittedly, reducing the effect to one specific thing, and especially something as vague as the surface of the water, was a bit more complicated, but still nothing I couldn't do in a day."

"Why am I even surprised by anything you do at this point…" He sighed, and then reluctantly let go of Robin's hand when she let go in return. She stayed standing on the water, which was a good sign, and even took a step further into the room, over the mirroring blackness below. Still, the concerned frown never left his face even as she turned back around to him. He opened and closed his mouth to speak a few times, before at last words came out along with it. "Be careful, yes?"

"Of course. But if it suddenly stops working for some reason, and I go under and drown, you'll get me out, right?" Robin asked while taking a few more careful steps over the water. Really, these questions were merely a method of reassuring herself; she knew the answer, but she still needed to hear it. "Because I really don't care for a run-in with any of the beasts living down there. If I mess up, you'll have my back as always… right?"

"Of course I will. As always."

"Good… Thank you."

"And what do you plan on doing now?"

Robin looked up at him once more, smirking already at the thought. "Now, I'm going to steal a giant fish's shiny scale."

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callsign-mischief · 4 years

Text

Chilly Summer Nights.

Day 14 of ‘A Very Harry Potter Summer!’

@hufflefluff-writer

Ron Weasley x Female!Reader!

Word Count: 2.6K

You were currently running frantically about your room packing your school trunk with everything you would be needing for the upcoming school year; as you were preparing to stay at your best friend's house for the remainder of your summer holiday. Your grandmother called out to you from the bottom of the stairs leading to your bedroom.

“(Y/N)! Let’s get a move on young lady! I sent an owl to Molly half an hour ago saying you would be arriving soon! Let’s not keep them waiting any longer!”

“Sorry Gran! I’m almost done, I promise. I’ll be down in a- woah!” You yelped, as you tripped over your trunk and crumpled to the floor with a loud THUD!

“That hurt..” you grumbled, with your face flat against the hardwood flooring of your bedroom.

Heavy footsteps ascended the stairs and before you knew it, your grandmother was stepping over the threshold of your dainty bedroom. She peered at you with her hands placed on her hips, brows arched high in curiosity.

“What did you do this time?”

Standing from the floor rubbing your sore knees and cheek, you look at her with an embarrassed smile. “Tripped over my trunk. But I’m okay Gran, don’t worry.”

“Glad you are alright but- for Merlin’s sake!” She yelped as her eyes left your body and scanned over your messy living space. “You certainly don't know how to pack correctly, my dear. Please do step aside so I can finish this quickly and you can head off. It’s getting quite late.”

Nodding your head, you step aside as you watch your grandmother pull her wand from her cooking apron before giving it a wave. You watched in silent awe as various strewn items, ranging from clothing to new schooling supplies, flew from different spots around the room. Into the trunk it all went before it was snapped shut and buckled then sent flying down the stairs, landing by the fireplace. Even though you were thirteen years old and were raised all your life around magic, it still amazed you.

“There, much better. Far quicker at that too! Now grab your school bag and Wisp so we can go!”

“Yes, mam.” You acknowledge as she waltzed out of the room and back down the stairs. Hauling your bag over your shoulder and grabbing Wisp’s pet carrier and your wand from the bedside table, you exited the room, shutting the door tightly and gliding down the stairs with a newfound pep in your step.

Meeting your grandmother in front of the fireplace, she gave you a once over before giving you a loving, tender hug, and ushering you into the fireplace. Making sure you were settled in, she offered you the pot of Floo powder with a gentle smile. Wisp, your loving black cat, gave a loud meow as a goodbye to your grandmother. Smiling at her, you take a handful of the powder before speaking clearly of your intended destination.

“The Burrow!”

Instantly, you’re engulfed into flames and your sneakers reach the hard ground of the Weasley’s fireplace below you as you are hit with a quick bit of dizziness. “Gosh, I hate that sometimes.”

With Wisp’s cat carrier in one hand and your trunk in the other, you step out of the fireplace careful to not dirty up Molly's floor. When the dizziness in your eyesight has cleared, you are met with the sight and smell of the cozy home of the family you have come to love and adore over the past few years.

You barely have a second to walk into the quaint living room and set down your belongings before two bodies come crashing into yours at full speed.

“You’re finally here!”

“It’s about time you’ve arrived, love! We were beginning to think you abandoned us!"

Chuckling at the two people’s words, you wrap one arm around each of their torsos, hugging them as equally tight as they were you.

“Yes! I have arrived, Georgie. And Fred, that’s pure nonsense! I would never abandon you two! You are my favorites after all…” you pause to stand on the tips of your toes and whisper in their ears, “Just don’t tell your sister I said that. She would hex the daylights out of me once we got back to Hogwarts!”

The twins couldn’t help but laugh and release you from their smothering grasps as Ginny was heard barreling down the stairs to greet you.

“You two step away from her this instant! She is MY best friend!” She yells, running into the room.

“You should have gotten to me quicker then Gin.” You couldn’t help but grin as you were enveloped into yet another bone-crushing hug. You squeezed her back just as hard, beyond ecstatic to be reunited with your best friend after weeks apart. You break away from each other, catching up on the past couple of days leading up to your arrival when Mrs. Weasley walks in from the kitchen with Arthur in tow.

“(Y/N), how lovely to see you, dear. It was ‘bout time you’d be arriving.”

Flushing red, you step up to her with open arms. “Sorry Mrs. Weasley, that was my fault. Got a late start to packing and Gran had to help me finish making sure I had everything I needed.”

Embracing you into her warm arms, she squeezes you gently (unlike her children), patting your arm lightly. “No worries dear, we’re just glad to have you with us.”

Moving on from Molly, Arthur gave you a hug as well. During your quick embrace, he began telling you all about the long list of new questions he had about Muggles. You couldn’t help but laugh and tell him that you would answer any and all questions he had throughout your stay. Once released from Mr. Weasley, Ginny, George, and Fred swept you away talking excitedly about the upcoming Quidditch World Cup match you all would be attending next week. Barely into the discussion, your ears perked up as you heard two more sets of footsteps descending the rickety staircase. Your face flushed a light pink instantly knowing who one of those footsteps belongs to.

“What the bloody hell is all the ruckus down here about?”

Glancing over in his direction you couldn't help blushing a darker shade of pink. “Hi, Ron.”

Eyes bulging in shock, his face matches yours, flushing as red as his hair. “H-hey..you..you’re here! Why..w-why are you here?.”

Ginny lets out a snort of annoyance, “If you can have your best friend here then so can I!”

The twins share a knowing look between themselves before Fred slings an arm around your shoulder smirking at his younger brother in the process, “Don’t act like you aren’t happy to see her mate.”

“I’m not!” Ron yells back defensively. But realizing what he had said, his hands fly up in surrender. "W-wait! No! That is not what I mean! I'm not not happy to see you -I..I am glad to see you! Ecstatic, even!” he scrambles trying to save his last shred of dignity.

Harry smirks, slightly leaning in close to the redhead, “Nice save there. Real nice.”

Ron shoots Harry a daggered look as his face flames in embarrassment and irritation, but his anger is short-lived as Molly announces from the kitchen that supper is ready.

Jumping at the chance to leave from the room, Ron grabs the smirking dark haired boy beside him running away to the awaiting food with the towering twins following them out. Before you can fall in line behind George, Ginny grabs your wrist bringing you to a halt.

“You like my brother!”

Don’t panic, don’t panic. “I like all your brothers. They’re all quite nice and enjoyable really. Nice boys each of them are Gin-”

“No. I mean Ron specifically! You like Ronald.” It wasn't a question of 'if'.

Feigning ignorance you brush off her statement, “Pfft. I do not! You’ve gone right mental Ginny.”

Before the feisty redhead could speak once more, her mother yelled for the two of you to come take your seats at the table. Thank you, Molly.

Sending one last look your way she narrows her eyes in a playful manner, “Do not, for one second, think that you are off the hook about this!”

This is not good. Not good at all.

Attempting to forget about the conversation with Ginny, you basked in the presence of some of your most favorite people. Dinner was amazing as always. The food was beyond delicious, smiling faces were seen all around- it was just perfect. Nothing could ever be better than this. You had spent most of the meal interacting with Mr. Weasley. Of course- the topic of choice being all things Muggle but that was all okay! You loved being helpful and answering any questions he had.

When everyone’s bellies were stuffed to the brim with food, Molly excuses herself from the table to begin putting away any leftovers. Arthur follows after his wife while the Weasley boys and Harry disperse quickly, the twins dashing up the staircase conversing in hushed tones while Harry and Ron make their way into the living room.

You and Ginny share an eye roll and begin to rid the table of all dirty dishes. With dinnerware piled in your arms, you two girls carry everything into the kitchen and are instructed by Mr. Weasley to place them on the counter top by the sink where Molly was waiting. With a grateful smile, Mrs. Weasley ushers you and Ginny out. You two venture into the cozy living room to see the two fourth-year boys sitting on the floor playing a game of Wizards Chess. Ron is leaning back against the sofa while Harry sprawls out on the floor on his stomach. You venture over to the sofa while Ginny takes the armchair by the fireplace. You plant yourself on the old piece of furniture, lying down behind the redhead and getting comfortable before cracking open a book you had brought with you. He glances over his shoulder, giving you a shy smile before turning away to take his turn.

The rush of butterflies in your stomach was instant. You couldn't help but blush and move just a tad bit more towards the edge of the couch to be closer to him. You only hoped he didn't notice the shift, not wanting him to think of you as weird but he felt it. He didn’t mind though. He wanted you to be close to him. He couldn’t help but blush at the thought of you wanting to be closer to him too.

After a while, the heads of the home walk out from the kitchen bidding you all a quiet ‘goodnight’ before heading up to bed. Shutting your book, you place it on the coffee table beside you before your eyes slowly flutter over to the boy in front of you. The silence of the house is interrupted when you hear two sets of footsteps tiptoeing not so quietly down the stairs. Looking away from the youngest boy in the family, you see two identical faces pop out from around the corner.

“Oi! You four come with us!” Fred whispers across the room.

Without questioning the request, the four of you make your way out of your seats and follow behind the mischief makers. They lead you through the house and urgently usher each of you out the front door of the home into the chilly evening air. You couldn’t but shudder as a gust of wind rushes past you, sending tingles down your spine once you step out. You really wished they had let you grab a sweater.

Lighting their wands with ‘Lumos’, Fred and George lead you all into the field eventually coming to a stop by a pile of old wood and sticks.

“What’s all this?” you question as George sets down the box he had been carrying.

“This, love, is our wood pile for a bonfire! And to make it even better, we have supplies for a snack! It’s a muggle treat, actually. What do you call them Harry?”

Harry chuckled, “S’mores. My cousin Dudley eats them all the time in the summer.”

You couldn't help the excited giggle that spilled from your lips. You had heard about these but never got the chance to try one! Without wasting another second, you quickly set the twins on getting the fire started while you found yourself a small log to get comfortable on, ready for the fun to begin as you curl up to get warm again. The fire is quickly lit (all thanks to Harry) and everyone begins to dig in to make the famously sweet and gooey treat for themselves. The youngest Weasley son jumps at the chance to follow in your footsteps, planting himself on your small log seat. You peer at him with a wide grin causing his cheeks to flush pink.

Tonight had been amazing. And although you loved your summer holiday’s, the one thing you didn't appreciate was that the later into the evening it got, the chillier it got. The fire had helped keep you warm but not completely. After seeing you attempting to hide your shivers due to the chilly breezes for what seemed like the hundredth time that night, Ron couldn’t bear to see you so miserable any longer. Scooting closer, he wrapped his arm around you, pulling you flush against his side. With wide eyes and cheeks flaming as red as his hair, you turned to look at him. He’s facing the roaring fire but you could see a content smile graced upon his lips. How is his side profile just as attractive as his entire face?!

Sensing your stare, his head turns. “You okay, love?” Love.

“Y-yeah! I’m great. But w-why?” you jester to his arm around your waist.

"You kept shivering so I thought this might help get you warmed up a bit more."

Oh.. so he's just being friendly. Right. Of course he doesn't fancy you in return. That only happens in cheesy romance novels.

He watches as your face falls slightly but before you can move away he tightens his grip on your hip.. "I-it's not just that ya know.."

"Wait, what? W-what do you mean?" Your heart begins to beat out of your chest. ‘Please, PLEASE be the reason I'm hoping for.’ your mind pleads.

He clears his throat nervously. "W-well..I um..I have fancied you for quite a while now a-and I um thought this," he nods at the position you were in "was a good way to show it. I-its okay if you don't feel the same, of course, I just wanted to make it known.." The poor bloke was shaking! How can someone be so nervous but still be so cute?!

You couldn't believe it! The boy you've been pining for for two years has feelings for you too! "Y-you do!? I like you too Ron. I really really do!" you all but exclaim, flinging your arms around his neck in an excited hug. Your cheeks ached from how hard you had been grinning and you couldn't help the giggles that slipped past your lips in pure happiness.

His grin matched yours as he squeezed you even closer to his body, if that were even possible and placed a loving gentle kiss to your forehead. "I'm so glad you do."

This felt like a dream. If all it took was a couple hours out in the chilly evening air to get where you were now, in Ron's arms, you would happily do it again anytime. Chilly summer nights were not so bad after all.

#averyharrypottersummer #ron weasley #ron weasly x reader

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