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queenshelby · 8 months

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Auctioned (P. 1)

Pairing: Dark!Thomas Shelby x Virgin!Reader/OC

Warning: Darkish Themes, Prostitution, Smut, Eventual Loss of Virginity, Dubious Consent, Corruption, Destructive Behavior, Massive Age Gap

Notes: Damn, I had this in my drafts for a while but could not publish it as I was a little afraid about how it would be perceived. Also this is the first time I used an OC, so be gentle with me.

The rain fell relentlessly, a steady rhythm that matched the pounding of Y/N's heart as she walked down the dimly lit streets of Small Heath.

It was a neighbourhood perpetually caught in the grip of shadows, where whispers of danger cascaded through the air like an ominous secret.

Clutching her coat tighter around her trembling form, Y/N navigated the labyrinthine alleyways towards her destination. The wind howled, carrying with it a sense of desperation that seemed to echo her own.

After mere minutes of walking down the street, the brothel she had worked at as a waitress for the past two years stood ominously before her, its ornate facade a stark contrast to the gritty reality of its surroundings.

It was a daunting place she had visited many times before. Both of her sisters worked there, and it was Y/N's eldest sister who had orchestrated tonight’s ordeal.

When Y/N was only sixteen years old, her eldest sister told her not to give away her innocence lightly as, according to her, a woman’s virginity was a commodity these days. Men were willing to pay much money for it, and six months after Y/N turned eighteen, she decided to partake in one of the brothel’s first-ever auctions.

“There are many men here tonight and you are the only virgin” Y/N's sister told her, causing Y/N to cringe but remain silent. “In three months’ time Em, we will be debt-free” her sister then reassured her as rumors of illicit dealings and forbidden desires swirled around the brothel’s walls, warning Y/N and the two other girls partaking in tonight’s events to tread with caution.

Y/N's determination propelled her forward though nonetheless, into the grand hall of the establishment and, albeit with trepidation lingering in every step, she pushed through her anxiety. The weight of her decision bore down on her shoulders now, the knowledge that she had offered her innocence for sale causing a knot of guilt to form in the pit of her stomach.

Pushing open the heavy wooden doors, the creaking sound reverberated through the room, capturing the attention of its mysterious clientele, including men that were twice and three times Y/N's age.

Seeing them, gave Y/N second thoughts. She disappeared again into the back of the room, telling her sister that she was unsure as to whether she could go through with this and, once again, her sister reminded her of what was to come if she did not.

“Trust me Em, it is better to fuck one guy for a few months than a ton of them for years. You will have money once your time is up. It will be worth it” her sister told Y/N, who reluctantly nodded.

The deal was to give up her virginity and three months of her life to the highest bidder and in the brothel’s owner’s opinion, such offering was going to attract a bid of at least one-thousand pounds.

One thousand pounds was more than Y/N could make in five years, thus she agreed, setting herself up for a good life of her own.

***

Glancing through one of the open doors again, Y/N saw that the auction room was illuminated by dim candlelight, casting elongated shadows across the velvety red curtains that framed the stage.

Many men were still arriving, taking their seats and talking with each other. Y/N could count at least fifteen thus far and were astonished by the fact that all these wealthy men were prepared to pay for her inexperience.

Then, a hushed silence fell over the crowd as another man walked in and it was your sister who peaked through the crack in the door with you now, trying to ascertain what was happened.

“Oh shit” she said as she looked at the man who just walked in. His sharp features were framed by a weave of dark hair, blue eyes piercing the dimly lit room with a predatory intensity. This was Thomas Shelby - a figure whispered about in hushed tones, notorious for his criminal empire, and feared even by those who claimed to know him.

“Who is he?” Y/N asked nonetheless, curious about this handsome but intimidating-looking stranger.

“His name is Thomas Shelby. You would have heard of him?” Y/N's sister said, causing Y/N's chin to drop as, just like everyone else, she had indeed heard of him. He was often referred to as the king of Birmingham, a man whose name had become entwined with notions of danger and darkness. He had blood on his hands and was a career

Criminal who was so powerful that even the police did not stand in his way.

“It is time, come on” the owner of the establishment then said and, with trembling legs, Y/N walked into the room, accompanied by her sister.

All heads turned as Y/N's presence filled the room, but she did not take notice of anyone but him, secretly hoping for this stranger to make a bid.

Y/N's breath hitched as, within seconds, her eyes locked with those of this dangerous man, his icy blue orbs penetrating through her like a shard of glass. She felt exposed, vulnerable, as if he could see every secret she held close to her chest, every fear she carried.

Thomas smirked at her, his lips curling with a dangerous mixture of arrogance and charm. He adjusted his tailored suit with the precision of a man who commanded respect, his piercing gaze locked upon the platform where the auctioneer eventually prepared to begin, with you by his side,

The auctioneer's voice boomed through the room, shattering the silence like a crack of thunder.

"Ladies and gentlemen, tonight we present to you a rare opportunity. Up for sale to the highest bidder is this young woman's innocence and her services for three months, at a location of your choosing” the man announced and, immediately, whispers raced through the air, mingling with the pounding of hearts.

Eyes flickered from Y/N to Thomas and back again, playing a silent game of anticipation and curiosity. Y/N's cheeks burned with a mix of nervousness and defiance. This was her choice, her chance to take control of her own destiny and yet she hoped that, at least, someone she could be attracted to would become her bidder.

As such, Thomas Shelby was clearly the most attractive and intriguing man in the room and, whilst Y/N had heard tales of Thomas Shelby, the man who straddled the line between the law and the underworld, she was not afraid.

Thomas Shelby’s notoriety preceded him like a shadowy myth and, again, his lips curled into a barely perceptible smirk, his features a carefully crafted mask of unreadable intent. The flicker of amusement in his eyes danced with a darkness that weakened Y/N's knees.

Was here to bid, she wondered? Or was he for the show and the sheer absurdity of it all?

"Let us not waste any time," the auctioneer then continued, his voice dripping with a blend of excitement and intrigue.

"Bidding for Miss Y/N begins at five hundred pounds" the actioneer then announced and the crowd stirred, pockets of murmurs rising like a symphony of anticipation. The forbidden allure of Y/N's offer had captivated them all, and now they were hungry for the chase.

Thomas Shelby remained a silent observer, however. His eyes locked onto Y/N's form with an intensity that made her feel exposed. A shiver of uncertainty crawled up her spine, but she refused to falter. She had made her decision, and she would see it through to the end.

Then, the first bid pierced the air, followed swiftly by another and another. The numbers climbed higher, the desperation of the bidders mirrored in their furious gestures and sharp intakes of breath. From her vantage point on the stage, Y/N watched the faces blur together, a sea of greedy desire stretching out before her like a treacherous ocean.

Among the throng of potential purchasers, only one stood out to her still and this was Thomas Shelby. His eyes were unwavering and fixed upon her. Bids soared into the thousands, the clambering voices echoing through the rafters. In this room of twisted desires and hidden intentions, Y/N's worth was being calculated, her innocence commodified.

A sense of nausea swirled within Y/N's gut, the weight of what she was about to lose hitting her like a sucker punch. She knew the money would bring temporary relief, but the cost of her first time being handed over so coldly – it was a sacrifice she could never fully comprehend.

Biting her bottom lip, Y/N steadied herself, her gaze finding solace in the not-so-innocent eyes of Thomas Shelby across the room. She had set this chain of events in motion, and she would have to live with the consequences, whatever they may be. At last, the bidding war reached its peak, the crowd growing restless, each participant desperate to claim the illustrious prize. The air crackled with anticipation, a storm waiting to unleash its fury.

The auctioneer, sensing the crescendo, roared, "Going once, going twice..." The tension in the room reached a fever pitch, every person holding their breath, their gaze transfixed on the stage. And then, in an instant, Thomas Shelby's voice, low and commanding, cut through the silence like a knife.

"Ten thousand pounds" he said and the room gasped, a collective intake of breath that snaked its way through the assembled throng.

Thomas's bid was a declaration, a statement that he alone was the one who would possess her at a price that was much higher than any other bid before.

Y/N's heart pounded in her chest, her pulse reverberating in her temples. She locked eyes with Thomas, her voice trembling as she promised herself that she would not crumble beneath his intimidating presence even though he wanted her to, by simply looking at her.

"Sold to Thomas Shelby for ten thousand pounds!" the auctioneer's proclamation hung in the air, sealing Y/N's fate like a binding contract.

A mixture of relief and trepidation surged through her veins, her steps faltering as she descended from the stage, her composure teetering on the edge. Thomas approached her with a measured stride, his every move calculated and deliberate. He extended a gloved hand towards her, a pale contrast against the darkness that seemed to radiate from him.

"Y/N, is it?" he asked, his voice a low timbre that held a hidden power, causing in Y/N to nod silently.

"It appears you now belong to me" he then asserted and Y/N paused for a moment, feeling herself teetering on the precipice between freedom and captivity.

“It seems so” Y/N responded as she chose to swallow her fear and accepted his hand, their fingers intertwining in a pact that neither of them fully comprehended.

“Very well then” Thomas responded before he pulled her closer and Y/N felt the weight of his reputation settle upon her shoulders. The echoes of his criminal empire whispered around her, the unknown dangers lurking beneath the surface of this enigmatic man.

With every guiding step, Thomas led her out of the brothel and into the night, the rain washing away the remnants of her former life. The world around her seemed to fade into insignificance, her focus solely on the ruthless man who had claimed her as his own.

***

Eventually, they emerged onto the dark streets of Small Heath, the rain obscuring their silhouettes as they walked side by side. Y/N's nerves danced with a mix of apprehension and curiosity, her mind frantically searching for answers to the questions that suddenly enveloped her.

"You've heard of me, eh. So you know what I do?" Thomas stated, his voice cutting through the raindrops like a razor and Y/N hesitated to answer for a moment, her words momentarily catching in her throat.

"Yes. I have heard that you are dangerous," she finally admitted, the honesty laced with a touch of fear. A hint of a smile danced across Thomas's lips, his eyes narrowing with a blend of amusement and something darker.

"Dangerous, eh?” he chuckled. “Well, I suppose that is not entirely wrong. Although, one might argue that danger can be seductive” Thomas then asserted and Y/N absorbed his words, feeling a shiver run down her spine. She couldn't deny the magnetic pull she felt towards this enigmatic criminal, as if some inexplicable force drew them together despite the odds stacked against them.

"Why me?" she whispered, her voice barely above a breathy plea. The question hung in the air, mingling with the quiet patter of raindrops on the pavement. Thomas stopped abruptly, his grip on her hand tightening ever so slightly. His gaze bore into her, stripping away any pretence that either of them wore.

"Because I saw something in you that intrigued me. Despite, what kind of criminal would not want someone as innocent as you to corrupt, eh?" Thomas joked as the rain continued its relentless assault, washing away the remnants of Y/N's innocence and revealing a strength that had long lain dormant within her.

This journey was not just about the loss of her virginity – it was an awakening, a test of her own resilience. The intoxicating mix of danger, attraction, and the unknown propelled Y/N forward, her heart pounding in her chest like a wild creature. She had embarked on a journey into darkness, and she was determined to emerge on the other side, transformed.

#cillian murphy #cillian murphy smut #cillian murphy imagine #cillian murphy x reader #cillian murphy x y/n #cillian murphy x you #tommy shelby #peaky blinders #tommy shelby smut #tommy shelby x reader #thomas shelby x reader #thomas shelby imagine #thomas and friends #thomas shelby #thomas shelby x oc #tommy shelby x oc

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five-miles-over · 6 months

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Joaquin Phoenix Characters Masterlist

updated 08 November 2023

Multiple Character Headcanons and Listicles

• Joaquin Phoenix Characters as University Students

• Joaquin Phoenix Characters as Cupcakes

• Joaquin Phoenix Characters - Sleepover Headcanons

• If Joaquin Phoenix Characters Went on Dates

• Joaquin Phoenix Characters as Comfort Foods

• Holiday Gift Ideas for Joaquin Phoenix Characters

• Commodus, Abbé, and Joe as Parents

Abbé de Coulmier from Quills

• The World’s a Broken Bone: The Abbé comforts the reader - a nurse at Charenton - when they have a severe migraine.

• Let Me Save You: A crossover with Thomas Sharpe from Crimson Peak

• The Ballad of Mona Lisa: The reader confesses to the Abbé about fantasies that they have been experiencing lately. (Smut)

• Abbé de Coulmier x Light Academia (aesthetic board)

Arthur Fleck from Joker

• Yandere Arthur Fleck Headcanons

• Arthur Fleck and Joker Jealousy Headcanons

• NSFW Headcanons

• Yandere!Arthur and Yandere!Joker Dealing With Rejection in Public

• Joker and Cruella de Ville Crossover Headcanons

• Arthur Fleck x 50s Retrocore

Bruno Weiss from The Immigrant

• Bruno Weiss x Roaring 20s (Aesthetic Board)

Clay Bidwell from Clay Pigeons

• Misery Loves Company: Clay meets the reader at a bar and the two of them have a much-needed break from their troubles.

• Hey Good Lookin’: Clay loves it when his girlfriend sits on his lap and asks him for a kiss (fluff)

Emperor Commodus from Gladiator

• Imagine Teaching Commodus to Slow Dance

• The Courtesan: The reader is a dancer that catches the eye of Emperor Commodus at a party

• ‘Till I Hear You Sing: A song-based fic based on “Til I Hear You Sing” from Love Never Dies

• What I Did For Love: Continuation from ‘Til I Hear You Sing’. A song-fic based on “What I Did for Love” from A Chorus Line

• New Girl: A high school AU of the movie Gladiator. The reader has recently moved to Rome and is now a new student at the Roman Educational Institute

• Paparazzi (Hollywood!Commodus x Reader): Another Gladiator AU in which the reader has a chance encounter in Rome with Commodus, a world-famous actor hounded by paparazzi.

• All Love Can Be: Prince Commodus meets the reader through their fathers working together, and eventually decides to ask for her hand.

• Handsome: The reader gets a little drunk while spending time with Commodus, and turns a bit childish and dorky.

• The Festivals of Saturn: Commodus’s first Saturnalia as a young sixteen-year-old co-emperor.

• Lay All Your Love on Me: Commodus falls unconditionally and irrevocably in love with a confident young woman along the seashores of Lanuvium

• Lose Me In the Sight of You: All you wished for was the blessing of Lady Juno that you would find a good husband, yet little did you know that a certain Emperor has grown passionately and hopelessly obsessed with you. (TW: Yandere)

• Emperor Commodus x Vampire Aesthetic

• Commodus’s Outfits as Chocolates

• Similarities Between Chuck Bass from “Gossip Girl” and Commodus from “Gladiator”

SERIES: ALONE WITH YOU INSIDE MY MIND (COMMODUS X READER) - ON HIATUS

The young prince (and soon to be Emperor of Rome) Commodus falls in love with you, the daughter of a nobleman, and nothing will stand in the way of his obsession.

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

SERIES: AFTERMATH (COMMODUS X OC) - ON HIATUS

A sequel to the events of the film Gladiator, in which Emperor Commodus survives the duel with Maximus

• Chapter 1: The Impossible Dream

• Chapter 2: Proud of Your Boy

• Chapter 3: The Point of No Return

• Chapter 4: Look Down

• Chapter 5: Beneath a Moonless Sky

• Chapter 6: These Palace Walls

• Chapter 7: Wait For It

• Chapter 8: Something There

• Chapter 9: Be Prepared

• Chapter 10: Twisted Every Way

• Chapter 11: All I Ask of You

• Chapter 12: History Has Its Eyes on You

Max California from 8 MM

• Max California x Dark Academia

• Max California Proposing to You (Headcanons)

Ray Elwood from Buffalo Soldiers

• Ray Elwood Taking You Out on a Date Would Include...

Willie Gutierrez from The Yards

• Blackout: The reader is Willie Gutierrez’s new neighbor, and the two of them accidentally meet during a power outage

• The Light Blinking at the End of the Tunnel: The reader offers some much-needed comfort to Willie after finding out about his dark past.

#joaquin phoenix #joaquin phoenix characters #arthur fleck #arthur fleck x reader #commodus x reader #emperor commodus #abbe de coulmier #abbe de coulmier x reader #ray elwood #buffalo soldiers #joaquin phoenix fanfiction #joaquin phoenix fic #joaquin phoenix x reader #joaquin phoenix imagines #clay pigeons movie #clay bidwell #arthur fleck imagines #yandere arthur fleck

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sl-newsie · 3 months

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American Woman (Thomas Shelby x American OC) Ch. 4: Persuasive

“What kind of rubbish is this?”

The voice is so sharp it jolts me from a deep sleep, making me panic when I try to recognize my unfamiliar surroundings. Oh, right. I’m employed now.

“But Tommy, it’s really good!” I hear Finn complain.

“I don’t care! It’s American rubbish is what it is!” Thomas barks.

As quick as I can, I hastily throw on a robe I find in the closet and peek my head out.

“What’s going on?”

Outside, Thomas is holding the copy Common Sense I gave to Finn yesterday. They both look over and see me, then Finn starts laughing.

“Nice robe!”

Confused, I look down and inspect the robe for any unusual features only to find nothing. “What’s wrong with it?”

“That’s Tommy’s old robe.”

His words send a blush creeping across my cheeks, one that I hope goes unnoticed. “Sorry about that. I was getting dressed in a hurry. What’s all this yelling about?”

Thomas’ jaw tightens and he strides over to corner me against the wall, holding the book in my face.

“Is this yours?”

I nod stiffly. “Yes. I gave it to Finn to see if he’d like it. I’m trying to find him more interesting topics to read-”

“Well, keep your American ideas to yourself. He needs to be educated, not fed ideas of rebellion and philosophy.”

His words send anger coursing through me, waking me up from my dazed state. “Since when do you get to decide if my American ideas aren’t good enough? You may be my boss, but your aunt hired me.” I snatch the book. “If you think my resources are unworthy then take it up with her.”

In a furious rage, Thomas storms down the hall and slams the door, startling Polly who has just come from the other door.

“What’s he on about now?”

“He doesn’t want me to read American literature,” Finn whines.

“What?” Polly scoffs. “That stubborn fool. Verena, I don’t care what he says. I’m sure whatever books you suggest will be efficient.” She puts a reassuring hand on my shoulder. “I will talk to him. Right now, get cleaned up and ready. Your first lesson with Finn can begin after he’s finished breakfast.”

“Is Thomas always this arrogant?”

She shakes her head in defeat. “He has his mother’s common sense, but his father’s devilment. Lord knows he needs help.”

A thought pops into my head.

“Before Finn’s lesson, I might wish to do some reading or sit in prayer. There wouldn't happen to be a church or chapel here? Or just some quiet place where I could clear my head?”

Polly’s eyes light up. “I’ve got just the palace for you.”

It really is a beautiful church. Not too big, but still grand and modest at the same time. I’m not Catholic but the welcoming atmosphere is refreshing compared to the ugly world outside-

“Oh.” I’m startled to see I’m not the only one here. “Fancy seeing you here,” I speak up.

Thomas doesn’t turn to face me. “Did Polly send you here to reprehend me? Scold me for being too forbidding of your culture?” He says in a darkly taunting voice.

“Actually, no. She said she’d stop by later to give you a personal chat about something important. I’m here to pray.”

Tommy doesn’t argue and allows me to sit in the pew across from him, staying quiet and pulling out a cigarette.

“Those things will kill you, you know. My father smokes too, but I was never a fan of it. Doctors may not agree yet, but I say that smoking only increases the risk of lung failure. Plus, the smell can be unbearable. Especially to children.”

“Are you here to preach or pray, love?” Thomas complains.

I keep my mouth shut and close my eyes for prayer, silently hoping that my family will send for me. I ask for blessings on the entire Shelby family for helping me, even if some of them can be very unlikable at times.

I’m amazed that Thomas never interrupts me. If anything, it’s as if he’s tried to not make a sound at all since I’ve started. When I finish I see he’s lost in thought, so I quietly stand up and walk down the pews to give him privacy-

“You hate it here, don’t you?” Thomas stops me in my tracks. “That’s what you prayed for, eh? For your family to come get you or for some dashing bloke to come rescue you from this Hell hole? Say what you want about us, but this is our home.”

After taking a calming breath, I pivot and walk back to stand across from him. “Are you always this gallant of yourself? Always assuming everyone is against you?” I put my hands on my hips and look up to face his icy eyes. “Yes, I do wish to leave here. Call it sappy, but I’m homesick! Imagine going from being on vacation to being stranded somewhere alone where the town is like a demilitarized zone and the people are snakes!”

Thomas holds up his hands. “Whoa, whoa! We’re not all snakes.” He leans in and snickers. “It’s the coppers who are the snakes.”

I roll my eyes. “You can be unbearably arrogant. I imagine you’ve got all of Small Heath wrapped around your little finger, don’t you?”

“I can be very persuasive.”

“If you say so,” I shrug and walk back to the door.

“Where are you off to now?” Thomas calls.

“Off to teach Finn’s lesson before you can persuade me to go jump in the river.”

The lesson was a success. Ever since Finn got to read my ‘contrabanned’ books he’s been all but willing to learn. He definitely has his brothers’ ambition and attitude. Polly came in a few times to check up on us and seemed pleased. Even Thomas popped in once to “fetch some cigarettes,” but still couldn’t hide his interest when I began lecturing about macroeconomics.

“How do you know so much about finance?” He outright asks.

Haha, funny story. The truth is that my Uncle Colon liked me best out of all my brothers, and therefore spent extra time with me teaching about the family business. Not my father’s brewery, but the unofficial mob business. I can’t exactly come right out and say “It’s because my family’s in the mafia,” so I decide to do a small white lie.

“I read a lot, so I pick things up here and there.” Not a complete lie.

Tommy arches a brow but appears convinced and walks off down the hall. Once he’s gone, Finn looks at me with a mischievous grin.

“What?” I ask.

“Oh, nothing.” Finn goes back to reading. “I’ve never seen Tommy interested in books until you showed up.”

“You didn’t like them either,” I try to re-route the conversation.

Finn just shrugs and keeps reading, leaving me to ponder over what he just said. I don’t know Thomas well enough, but is Finn right? Has me being here made him start acting differently? He doesn’t take me as someone who gets emotionally attached to people. From what I can gather, he’s incredibly cold and forbidding, making me wonder if he’s capable of any emotion other than anger and pride. I push the thought aside and continue making notes for the week’s lesson plan.

Later that night I help make bread despite Polly’s bickering about me “being a house guest.” The only one missing is Ada, but no one seems to notice. All the while Thomas keeps whispering to his brothers, who are all looking back and forth at me as if I’m a painting on the wall. After everyone’s eaten they all go their separate ways, and once again I retreat to my room for some light reading before bed. Turns out it goes much faster than I plan because then next time I check the clock it’s one in the morning.

Click!

I look up from the page I’m reading, alerted by a noise coming from the hallway. “What on Earth…?”

Quietly, I creep to the door and open it a crack to see a woman’s silhouette creeping in from the back door. It’s Ada. Sneaking in during the late night hours? Suspicious…

Opening the door wider, she freezes at the sound of the creaking wood.

“If I didn’t know better, I’d say you look as though you’ve got something to hide.”

She turns around slowly, then relaxes when she sees it’s me. “You Americans always this blunt and cocky?”

I tilt my head. “When we want to be. I’ve been taking a lesson from your brothers about being cocky. But I’m not the one keeping secrets, Ada. I’m not a Shebly. You answer to Polly, not me.”

My response surprises her because she smiles and shakes her head. “I never said I’d say anything.”

I shrug. “You didn’t. But that won’t stop your consciousness overwhelming you with guilt.”

This takes a few moments to completely wash over her. Ada keeps staring at me with an indescribable face, then slowly starts to walk past me towards her own room.

“Wow. American and a philosopher. Polly must be proud of your strong moral compass.”

Wait. She’s offended by this? “Ada, I’m not trying to offend you. Heck, I just promised to keep my mouth shut about your late return! Why are you mad?”

Ada gets to her door and stops to look me dead in the eyes. “Maybe it’s because an outsider is allowed into our house without question? Hm? You’re a stranger from America, we don’t know who you or your family are, and Polly just lets you in like you’re a stray dog.”

Her words keep firing at me like a conversational battle. “I’m not playing into your family’s kindness to gain anything. I was offered housing and employment, so I accepted it. Yes, I know I’m an outsider. So I say again: if you have a problem, take it up with Polly.” I throw my arms up to end the chat and stride back to my room, but not before I hear:

“I’m sorry. I guess it’s not just the Americans who are stubborn.”

Without turning my head, I answer: “Stereotypes are ways to dig yourself into a hole of assumptions. Goodnight, Ms. Shelby.”

#peaky blinders #peaky blinder fanfic #peaky blinder imagine #peaky fucking blinders #peaky fookin blinders #thomas shelby x reader #thomas shelby #arthur shelby #john shelby #finn shelby #polly gray #grace burgess

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notyour-valentine · 8 months

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Welcome to Downton, Mr Shelby 12 ~ Tommy Shelby x Crawley!OC (Series)

[Masterlist] [Taglist] [Series Masterlist]

Summary: Just a lot - we have places to go with this story

All my writing is produced by an adult and created with an adult audience in mind (18/21+). You are responsible for your own media consumption.I do not consent to my work being translated, copied or posted elsewhere on this platform or any other.

Wordcount: 5400 words

Part 12

Charlotte.

His head snapped up. All this time he had thought, he had been talking about Mary, but Charlotte?

How?

She was still practically a child. It simply wasn’t possible. How could she even come into contact with someone like that?

"I will do what I can to protect your cousin from harm.", He assured him, his grey moustache quivering, "however the safest way would be to remove her from Shelby's sphere of influence in it’s entirety.”

He pronounced every word with a sharpness.

“Can I trust you to do that?"

"Of course you can.", Matthew hissed. The man’s tone had been as insulting as his accusation shocking.

She was family too and he felt responsible for her, for all of them. Being the heir did not only mean that he would one day own the title and the estate, but he would also be the head of the family, tasked with protecting them all. And even if he wasn’t, she was still his family - Goodness’ sake!

After the Inspector had left, all and any idea of lunch at the club had evaporated as he immediately began to make inquiries, calling in favours and asking for references - anything and everything that could be found out about Mr Thomas Shelby from Birmingham.

"As quickly as you can, please."

The days of waiting on responses were gruelling and left him agitated and unpleasant. Since he knew in advance, he simply prolonged his London stay until he had to return to Downton, and even then he did not wish to leave the papers in the office in Ripon and so he brought them home with him.

A part of him wanted to act immediately, felt like running up to the big house, taking Charlotte aside and telling her, warning her, but then he realised that she would not know any of it.

She would know the charming handsome man Campbell had described as luring women in. And she wouldn't believe him, at least he couldn't be sure. If he couldn't convince her at once, she could go to him to ask him, or to confront him, and then who knew what could happen.

So Matthew needed evidence, concrete, indisputable evidence that would convince her enough to make her stay far away from that man.

But the more he found out, the less he understood.

There was no record of his birth, no criminal record, nothing- until he went to France.

It was as if he appeared in 1915, a man grown and ready for war.

There was no criminal record after the war either, no mention apart from a newspaper article that described him as partaking in a protest in Birmingham where they lit a bonfire with the King's portraits.

In the article he was quoted as talking about how the men loved and served their king but that they felt abused by the new police tactics- headed, incidentally, by a Chief Inspector Campbell.

So this might be personal.

Matthew didn't remember much of criminal law, but he knew that personal matters always muddied things.

And then, he tried to look at his businesses. Companies had to be filed, which was comparably easy to find, or so he thought.

The first was a bookmaking company with a gambling licence from 1919 for the races. It was quickly followed by some factories and a motorcycle and car business, focussing on trade, all established in the following year.

But to find his way through that web took time and energy. Companies owners by other companies owned by other companies- it was like walking through a labyrinth with moving walls.

It also made the paperwork on his desk at home pile up to astronomical levels.

Matthew looked up as the door clicked open.

"I thought I'd bring you some tea.", His mother said with a smile.

"Thank you, Mother.", He said, offering her a tired smile.

She put it down on the desk, her eyes glancing across the paperwork before she picked up a page from what the war office had sent him, detailing his outstanding report of his exemplary war record that earned him gallantry medals.

"Huh.", She said surprised, before placing it back onto the table. "Charlotte never said Mr. Shelby was a war hero."

She said it in passing, almost casually, before she walked over to open the window.

"Charlotte knows Mr. Shelby?", He asked, his heart thundering in his chest.

A small part of him had - up to this point - held out the hope that it had simply been a mistake.

"Of course she does. I told you about the charity initiative she has joined? It is his initiative. Didn't I mention his name?"

Matthew's gaze danced through the room as he was desperate to hold onto something - anything - other than the terrified feeling in the bottom of his stomach.

"Whatever's the matter?", She wanted to know. "Are you ill?"

"No,", he whispered, running his hand through his straw blonde hair. "I am not ill."

He cleared his throat and tried to avoid his mother’s piercing gaze, but to no avail.

“Matthew, I wish you would talk to me.”, she asked gently, sitting down on the sofa and inviting him. “It is no good to keep your grief locked in like that. Lavinia-”

“This isn’t about Lavinia!”, he snapped a little harsher than he had intended.

He didn’t want to talk about Lavinia, not to his mother and not to anyone and the very last thing he needed right now was a mention of his own greatest personal failure when he was trying to prevent another.

“What is it about then?”, his mother asked.

Matthew paced up and down the room, trying to think of what to say, knowing the wording was key. He didn’t have proof yet, and if it got out before he had that proof, there was no way of knowing what would happen. It was like being in France all over again - every moment could prove lethal but one simply had to move.

“I have heard things about Mr. Shelby that concern me.”, he finally said.

“What things?”

Matthew couldn’t say, not now at least, not until he had it in indisputable black and white.

“The point is, it is not a man Charlotte should be in contact with. For her own good.”

His mother raised her eyebrow. “For her own good? What harm could there possibly be in working for a charitable foundation?”

If that so called charitable foundation even exists. If it isn’t just a ploy to lure her in. If the man she works for wasn’t a criminal. At least according to Campbell.

“The cause does not matter. She should not be anywhere near him whatsoever!”

His mother’s jaw tightened.

“Matthew, this isn’t like you. You can’t just tell her where she can and cannot go!”, she scolded as if he was the one in the wrong here.

“Well someone has to forbid her and if that person is me then so be it!”, he insisted, his chest heaving with heavy breaths.

His mother, however, seemed to be completely calm.

“Don’t you think you are overreacting? I don’t know what you’ve heard but Charlotte seems very taken with him and frankly, I admire him. But if you are unsure, perhaps we could invite him for tea.”

“Him?”, Matthew asked, his voice sounding breathless and foreign to his own ears. “For tea?”

Isobel Crawley nodded. “Charlotte does not want the family to know the extent of their workings just yet. She fears that Robert would put a stop to it.”

Oh how very soothing.

Matthew bristled. Things were far from good if he already had her keeping secrets from her father.

“I don’t want you helping her anymore. No covering, no helping her get away. Nothing like that, do you hear me?”, he demanded.

“Matthew, you are getting rude!”, she snapped right back, her cheeks flushing.

He raised his hands and took a step back.

“You’re right. I am sorry. I didn’t mean to sound that harsh.”, he said, “but Mother, this can’t go on.”

“Whyever not?”, she asked impatiently. “You make such a fuss but refuse to tell me why!”

Because I can’t tell you yet.

“Perhaps I should just talk to her.”, he thought out loud.

I needn’t mention all of it, just perhaps find her a distraction, a new occupation to keep her busy. She was a good girl and far easier to sway than Edith or Mary.

The longer he thought, the more the idea of a distraction seemed suitable. Perhaps he could try and find a different man for her to be interested in, a decent fellow from a good family. She deserved that. Cousin Violet would have a list ready by sundown and he could work with that.

Yes, a distraction might be the very best thing.

Besides, he still had time. She was busy now preparing for the Wrinnington Ball next week, and shortly after was the races they would all be attending with Sir Richard. While Matthew knew these social obligations would cement the path of his future, he was not overly fond if them, but if they kept Charlotte busy and bought him time, he had to cherish them more as simply a necessary evil.

He thought of her even when he wasn’t thinking of her, simply put. Even in business meetings and while going over reports, she was never far from his mind, lingering in his thoughts like a dancer in the wings before a performance, awaiting what would soon take place in front of a packed audience, with blinding lights shone upon it.

And there it was again, the doubt, the guilt, the worry.

He had planned it out, had decided it long ago, had overthought and approved the plan, his plan.

It didn’t matter now, it shouldn’t matter, nothing should, because he had thought everything over, everything but this.

She trusted him.

She had trusted him, had trusted him longer than he realised, but the moment she fell asleep in his presence, her head slightly slumped, her chest rising and falling slowly, her hands resting in her lap-

It didn’t matter how or why, it mattered that she felt safe enough around him to allow her exhaustion to overcome her, to let her eyes flutter shut. She trusted him not to harm her, not to put her in danger.

Thomas Shelby couldn’t remember when someone had last trusted him so, without him demanding or ordering or threatening.

Even his own family members were beyond reluctant and persistent, often complying only because there was no alternative, or simply stopping to resist.

She had trusted him blindly, stupidly, the way only a person could who had experienced the world as a pretty, harmless place.

His men had trusted him, Tommy thought, back in France, though they had not trusted him, but rather their Sergeant Major. They had trusted him because they thought they knew him, because it was easier to follow the command if it came from a familiar face, in a known tone, but that made it no less deadly.

Men were dead now because they trusted him.

Dead in the mud, dead in the field hospital, dead in the canal and the streets of Birmingham - and dead in their prisons.

The boy had trusted him too, the one playing at being an outlaw, with a wooden gun and a holster made by the woman who did what mothers do.

He had trusted Tommy to protect him, to keep him safe and from harm and now he was buried like he had once been, only under far firmer, drier ground.

Sometimes, now, when he dreamt of that horrid night, of the creaks and cries of bursting beams, the frightened calls of his comrades and the deafening silence, he saw himself there, and Arthur and John, and Freddie and Danny and the rest of them. Sometimes, when he dug, his hands clawing at the earth, he turned to find the face of the boy right next to him, his eyes wide and still filled with fear, as if he was yet a few heartbeats away from death, as if his heart was still thundering in a feeble attempt to get the blood where it needed to go.

And if it wasn’t the boy and the mud, it was the shovel and whispers of German.

When he was awake, he could fight ehm with whisky and occupation, but in his dreams, he forced himself to think of her, of the loose strand of hair that fell in front of her eyes, somehow escaping both hat and hairties, a rare mishap in the perfection and poise she normally portrayed.

He could conjure the image even in his sleep, even in his nightmares. And in them, like she had in life, she was so calm, not even the noises coming from the darkness would startle her.

Breathe with her. Just breathe with her.

And he did. In and out, in and out.

The shovels were still there, but they wouldn't disturb her. She just kept sleeping and he kept breathing.

In and out. In and out.

To his shame, he found himself focussing on that every night before he tried to sleep, no matter where he was, which bed he was lying in, he always brought her with him.

He had tied her fate to his by parading her around in front of Campbell like a prized racehorse and as revenge, she held the key, the only key to salvation in her silk-gloved hands, the same he had tainted my mere association.

He had seen hell in France, and now he had created his own purgatory.

His plans, those he had made in sleepless nights, now finally came together but there was no satisfaction, no relief, no joy, even though it was going well, too well, really.

Tommy should have known that it was only a matter of time until it all went up in flames.

But like a house of cards, it all came crashing down in a matter of hours.

He had been at May’s, for the horse, and a distraction. He had things to get out of his system, probably. And there was no harm he could cause, not with May.

But before they got anywhere, really, he got that call.

Michael arrested in Birmingham.

Arthur arrested in London.

Billy dead, shot, and pinned on Arthur.

And Solomons and Sabini united against him.

It had been too much in too short a time and when he saw the smug smile under that hideous moustache, he knew. While he couldn’t pin it on Campbell, not entirely, he knew he had his fat little hands involved.

He called it insurance, of course, but it was nothing but retaliation, a strike back to punish him after aiming to humiliate him with Charlotte, or a test to see how quickly he would pull the strings he had threatened him with.

If he had aimed to call Tommy’s bluff, it had worked.

Despite his icy fear, despite Polly shouting at him to get Michael out, he couldn’t bring himself to make the call, to Downton or her uncle in the ministry.

All he could think of were May’s words.

You think your people are ruthless? Try mine.

He would have tried, he could have tried, but not with Charlotte. And the realisation cut deeper than he thought it could.

But failure always stung, still the mere thought of his original plan turned his stomach to the point where he knew he couldn’t come face to face with the girl, and instead skipped out on the meeting with the hospital staff for the foundation that had been nothing but a scam to lure her in originally.

The detailed, neatly written report she had given him was a sweet salt in the wound. Like always, she was trying so hard. She had done so from the very beginning and by now she was good at it.

He could spot the wit in her writing, the cheeky tone she used to describe one doctor’s reaction, almost mocking him for how he treated her as a near-deity due to her title, something she used to her advantage. To their advantage.

Tommy remembered her uncertainty, the refusal of payment for fear she would do more harm than good, and now?

There were things in motion, plans set to work, good plans, that would improve the lives of thousands. He had planted a rotten seed in burnt soil in the name of a scheme, but somehow she had gotten it to bloom either way.

Sweet, foolish Charlotte.

If she had been any less good, he would have had no qualms to fulfil his original plan, and now he was leaving all that behind to protect her. Payment, he found himself rationalising, for all the children who would profit of her work.

But beyond that, while getting his affairs in order in case his Epsom plan failed, he found himself thinking of her again, of how she talked about her father, her family, her duty to them, her uselessness with money, her utter dependence on them, and the risk her sister had taken in setting herself loose from it.

It must’ve worked, though, for her sister and the chauffeur, but Tommy knew a great deal of fools who let themselves be lured in by love. If her chauffeur loved her any less, she’d be stranded and penniless in a country not her own, disowned by her family and lured in by promises of love.

Charlotte had been lured in too, by Tommy and his schemes. Who was to say there wouldn’t be another one to try it for other reasons?

And was there not the risk of someone in his family blabbing? Polly, he thought, if he didn’t get Michael out quick enough would be on the next train to York, knocking on Downton’s door and threatening to bring the whole place down and Charlotte with it. She wouldn’t hesitate, hell, she had already demanded to know why he hesitated to feed her to the wolves to get Michael out of prison.

Even if he didn’t fail, there was still a risk of Polly pulling a stunt like that, one that would ruin Charlotte, one that could see her disowned and out on her own.

Because of me, Tommy thought, because she thought she was helping me.

It was yet another reason to keep him up at night, that allowed him to work until dawn if need be, longer than any other.

"Tommy, I'm going home.", Lizzie said, peeking her head into his office and waking him from his thoughts.

"Yeah. Go home, Lizzie. You should have gone hours ago.", He mumbled without looking at her., and diligently avoiding looking at his watch.

He’d have to give Lizzie a few notes extra.

"I was waiting in case you needed anything…", she said, her painted fingernails red against the black of his door.

I need Arthur back. I need Polly's son back.

I need peace with the backcountry boys again.

I need the clubs and the warehouses back. I need a bullet for Solomons and for Sabini and another for Campbell.

I need a fucking solution for everything.

He took the final sip of his whisky.

I need sleep.

His eyes wandered over to where Lizzie was still waiting.

She didn't say it out loud, but the offer stood all the same.

He covered his face with his hands and rubbed his closed eyes with his fingertips.

Why the hell not, eh?

If he couldn't find rest, he might as well find release.

He locked his office door and followed Lizzie towards the stairs. There was no talking, for there was no talking needed.

Lizzie knew what Tommy wanted - what Tommy wanted from her.

But that was just it, wasn't it?

His feet stopped and he watched her descend and with every step she took, with every step he didn't, he felt the miles of distance between them more than before.

She turned, looking up at him, a silent question written all over her face.

"Good night, Lizzie.", He said softly, before returning to the office.

He hesitated, his hand hovering over Lizzie's phone just like it had over his earlier.

But then he picked up.

The operator had connected him comparably quickly.

"Painswick Residence London.", The butler said. It was a familiar interlude and each time he thought that he really had to get her her own telephone. But by now he knew her too.

"Thomas Shelby. I need to…", he broke off, taking a deep breath. "I'd like to talk to Charlotte please."

He was surprised at how tired his voice sounded.

"The young Ladies and Lady Rosamund are not in residence."

"Where are they?", He asked. "Back at Downton?"

He could call there as well, but she was supposed to be in London. She had said so herself. Or maybe he had missed that too.

"No, Sir. They are attending a costume ball at Hasting's House."

Tommy scoffed, looking into the darkness outside the window.

Of course she's at a fucking ball.

He could almost see her, dancing under the glittering lights of a ballroom, diamonds around her neck and a tiara in her hair with not a care in the world as she was spun around by some red-faced lordling.

"Should I take a message, Sir?", He asked. "Although I doubt she will respond before tomorrow."

"No, thank you. Goodnight."

After he hung up, he unlocked his office once more and poured himself another drink.

Fuck.

Tommy braced himself on the desk and let his head hang.

It wasn't too late to go after Lizzie, or to find someone else who he could make do with.

Or maybe he could go to the yard and take one of the horses out until the sunrise came.

But he didn't want to fuck, not even to clear his head.

So he picked up the phone again. The voice on the other side was the same. “I changed me mind,”, Tommy said. “I do want you to take a message for Charlotte.”

The butler cleared his throat.

“And what precisely would you wish me to convey to Lady Charlotte, Mr. Shelby?”

He had begun the drive south in the earliest hours of the morning, after less than a few hours of sleep, arriving at Ada’s both unannounced and in the middle of the night.

But the night gave him time to make up his mind. In a way, it already had been, but at the same time, it removed all doubt.

In a week, he could be dead, a body rotting in the ground, with the only worth remaining in what he left behind.

Ada’s boy, John’s children - those matters were sorted now. The letter to the New York Post was written, in the hands of Ada.

The business would be in good hands with her and Polly.

That only left the foundation, and Charlotte.

After an early breakfast with his sister, who looked a proper bohemian with her silk robe and expensive coffee tastes, he left for Hyde Park.

By now he knew her mornings were when she was most flexible, and the park was close enough for her to meet him there. And she did, thankfully, alone. One could never be sure with her and her family.

When she came closer he could see beyond her cream coat that revealed just a hint of her pink dress underneath. The colour matched the shoes and the ribbon on her hat, of course.

All these little details he had grown to expect from her.

“Good morning.”, she greeted, offering him a warm smile that couldn’t hide the slight shadow under her eyes.

“Long night?”, Tommy asked.

She tilted her head from side to side, a slight blush creeping up. “Oh you know how it is.”

He really didn’t, but he didn’t want to push it. “Are you well?”, she asked, a line of concern forming between her brows.

“Well enough.”, he admitted as they began to walk. Well enough for a man that could be dead soon.

She huffed slightly, but she didn’t pry- not with her words at least. Her eyes dug into him from the side as if she wanted to see through his skull and into his thoughts.

That’s not a place you want to go, love.

“Is there anything I can help you with?”, she asked softly.

He shook his head.

“Whatever it is, I hope it improves soon.”, she said, giving his arm a little squeeze.

She leaned into him slightly, as they walked, passing nannies pushing prams, and little children running at their sides, a few men rushing to jobs, and a few women taking morning strolls. One could walk through this part of London during this time. Not even Sabini or Solomons dared to get their men into these areas- her areas. That was what calmed him. She at least was safe- safe from the Jews and the Italians and even fucking Campbell.

He had been considering asking her to take Ada and the baby in, just for the Derby day. That way they would be out of harm’s way in case…

She might even do that for him, but Ada wouldn’t go, not to her. He cursed her politics and the stubbornness they both shared. Ada would ask questions, questions he couldn’t answer. And the last time he had told her to get to safety she had stepped right into No-Man’s-Land, with the baby.

By pure luck, it had worked. But this time around it was more than Billy Kimber.

“I have some papers for you to sign.”, he finally said, stopping at one of the many benches by the fountain after glancing at his watch. She only had little time and would soon have to return in time for the train to Downton.

“Papers? Now?”, she asked surprised.

“Not much.”, he assured her,as he pulled forth three folded documents from the coat pocket.

Charlotte had to step closer to read them.

“Tommy, I don’t understand.”, she said softly, looking up at him. “Power of attorney?”

“Yeah.”, he said, holding the pen between his fingers.

“The money for the hospital and the other projects are already set aside, but I’ve slotted some more for the running of it. It should go smoothly.”

“But why?”, Charlotte asked wide-eyed.

“Don’t worry.”, he assured her. “It’s just in case.” “In case of what?”, she demanded to know.

In case my plan doesn’t work.

In case Campbell outsmarts me.

In case I die and I never see you again.

“In case I will be temporarily absent and decisions have to be made for the good of the foundation.”, he lied.

“Without consulting you?”, Charlotte asked, glancing at the paperwork once more. The uncertainty was ever present in her voice. “Yeah. You’ll be able to make calls on your own.”

This was the whole point of it, of granting her power and ensuring that the work of the last few months didn’t go arry. If he had to leave this world, then he would at least leave it with something decent behind and the only person whom he could entrust with that part of his legacy, was her. “Surely it would be better for that trust to be placed in Mrs. Gray or Mrs. Thorne, or even your sister in law.”

Likely.

“They are your family.”, she insisted. “This is as much your project as mine. We built it together. You know the workings better than anyone and you are the only one who actually knows how to run it.” She didn’t look convinced.

“I trust you Charlotte, and I want you to…”

To continue this in case I’m gone.

“I want you to sign. Just so I can rest easy, eh?”

She pursed her lips but she took the pen and signed all three papers.

“Thank you.”, he mumbled, as he took both pen and papers off her again.

“Was that why you were so worried?”, she wanted to know. Tommy decided to nod.

And he also chose not to tell her of the amendment to his will. Karl and John’s children would benefit from the trust fund. The family from the rest.

He chose not to tell her about the houses in Kensington, Mayfair and Belgravia which he had bought- large houses in good areas that she could rent out for a profit. They would bring in a good amount of rent money that should keep the foundation more than afloat as well as giving her not only security but also some form of independence if she ever decided to need it.

That would be his last gift to her, if it came to it. That, and the letter he had already written, kept in the other pocket, separated from her only by the thin material of the other coat pocket.

He already had the stamps on it, and the address, just waiting to be sent in case.

Four pages, he had written. Four fucking pages, scribbled down at Ada’s breakfast table like a madman.

It was the longest letter he had ever written and yet still felt so painfully short. There was so much more he wanted to talk about, so much more he wanted to tell her.

“Tommy, are you quite well?”, she asked, her hand reaching up, just barely brushing against his cheek. They were so warm.

A part of him warned him not to do it. But the louder voice inside him said fuck it.

He had put all his affairs in order, had sorted everything out. Now all the letters had been written, all the papers signed and all the preparations taken.

He could well be a dead man walking, Epsom drawing ever nearer, and a dead man had no time for regrets.

He may never get the chance again.

And so, with the papers back securely in his pocket, he reached for her cheek, feeling the warmth and softness of her skin as he leaned down to capture her lips with his.

Thank you for reading - I'd love to hear your thoughts

Taglist

Overall

@lilyrachelcassidy @jyessaminereads @chlorrox @watercolorskyy @books-livre @quarterpastmidnight @lilyevanswhore @polishcrazyone @zablife @just-a-harmless-patato @stevie75 @flyingjosephine-blog @runnning-outof-time @cillmequick @babayaga67 @butterfly-skinnylegend @shelbydelrey @mrkdvidal1989 @raincoffeeandfandoms @midnightmagpiemama @adaydreamaway08 @kmc1989

Tommy

@knowledgefulbutterfly @babayaga67 @signorellisantichrist @lespendy @geeksareunique @look-at-the-soul @lothbrokcore @rangerelik @elenavampire21 @evanore

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saibug1022 · 7 months

Text

Choices Masterlist

This is my masterlist for my choices fics. Also just to clarify, most of my ILITW fics also take place in the same universe as ILW because I've accepted it into my personal canon for my It Lives MCs. ALSO also, all of these are of my MCs, the character profiles for everyone are at the bottom

Blades of Light and Shadow

Walls of Regret

Tyril Starfury x MC, Mal Volari x MC, hints of Tyril x Mal

Hurt/No Comfort

Summary: During an encounter with Valax in the Shadow Realm, Asterin, Mal, and Tyril learn that Asterin's missing year was worse than any of them could have possibly imagined.

The Last Time

Aerin Valleros x MC

Hurt/Comfort, Angst

Summary: After getting injured by Valax in a fight Asterin awakens to find himself being cared for by Aerin and he can't help but think about the night they shared...and how Aerin left.

Funeral of Faith

Aerin Valleros x MC, referenced Tyril x MC and Mal x MC

Angst, Hurt/No Comfort, Evil MC

Summary: The Shadow Realm has a new Prince.

My Heart Won't Start Anymore

Tyril Starfury x MC x Mal Volari, references of Aerin x MC and Valax x MC

Hurt/Comfort

Summary: Finally, Asterin breaks. But this time he doesn't do it alone.

Love, I See You Now

Aerin Valleros x MC, reference Tyril x MC and Mal x MC

Angst

Summary: When Asterin gets hurt in the Battle for the Whitetower Rift, the Shadow Aerin thought he got rid of comes back in a burst of rage and fear. But it may not be enough.

It Lives In The Woods

Val's Resurrection Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

Lucas Thomas x MC, hints of Noah Marshall x MC

Hurt/Comfort

Summary: After years, finally, finally, Valen Ebony is saved.

It Lives Within

The Morning After

Abel Flint x MC

Fluff

Summary: A sweet little morning scene after the scene in Ch 14.

The Sun's Final Breath

Lincoln McQuoid and MC, Abel Flint x MC (background)

Angst

Summary: Castor Athantis is dead, and something is glowing in Lincoln's pocket.

Revelations

Abel Flint x MC, General

Angst

Summary: "I'm not Castor Athantis...I'm not even human."

Two Birds on a Wire

Lincoln Aquino & ILITW MC, Lincoln Aquino x ILW MC (background), Lucas Thomas x ILITW MC (background)

Fluff

Summary: After weeks of dancing around the reveal that Matthias is Val's real father, Lincoln and Val finally are forced to talk about it.

Nightbound

The Wrong Engagement

Nik Ryder x MC

Angst

Summary: Just one more morning. Alex just needed one more morning with the love of his life. One more morning before he married someone else.

Into the Wind-Verse

Link to full universe masterlist

A New Start

Magnus Bishop & Wind Velez

Summary: The story of Magnus getting recruited from unemployment in Ohio after being fired from his firm, to McGraw-Byrne.

Bad Liar

Magnus Bishop (MC) & Wind Velez

Summary: Magnus Bishop, just trying to do his work. Enter Wind Velez, here to remind Magnus he scared the shit out of his boyfriend, hadn't slept in three days, and needs some goddamn friends.

Come Morning Light

Magnus Bishop/Marcus Sharpe

Summary: Magnus is awoken when his boyfriend stirs in the night. He may not be the most adept at empathy or comforting people but for Marcus? He'll try.

Feeding Schedule

Wind Velez/Martin Vanderweil

Summary: Magnus is secretly a walking talking disaster. Wind knows this. Now he needs his boyfriend's help for a unique request.

Choices Sequels We Deserved

Elementalists 3

Nightbound 2

My MCs

Blades of Light and Shadow - Asterin Nightbloom

Crimes of Passion - August Rose

Murder at Homecoming - Valentine Damian Stone

It Lives In The Woods - Valen Ebony/Aquino

It Lives Beneath - Leon Vance

It Lives Within - Castor Athantis

It Lives Within - Julian Athantis

Hero - Callum Wyland

Endless Summer - Taylor Vaanu/McKenzie

The Elementalists - Apollo Solaris

The Elementalists - Lance Hartley (OC)

Immortal Desires - Eros Blackwell

Bloodbound - Mattheo Lazarin

Laws of Attraction - Magnus Bishop

Emrys - The Cursed Heart

#playchoices #choices #pixelberry #blades of light and shadow #bolas #crimes of passion #elementalists #it lives in the woods #ilitw #it lives beneath #ilb #it lives within #ilw #nightbound #choices hero #endless summer

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thomasshelbydrabbles · 10 months

Text

The Spy (7/?)

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x Adeline Taylor (OC)

Warnings: period typical sexism, series typical violence, period typical views of PTSD, period typical racism, blood and gore, angst, sexual situations, infertility, loss of child

Summary: Adeline has a long needed conversation with an old friend, and she learns more about what happened in Birmingham during her time away.

**Note: This is a series, so you should read The School Teacher and The Messenger first if you want to understand everything.**

Word Count: 2638

Author’s Note: Oof, this one was emotional, but I kinda love it. Let me know if you’d like to be added to the tag list.

Birmingham, 1924

“So this, right, this is Birmingham. Definitely not kosher, no. Not that a fuckin’ goya like you would care ‘bout that, no.”

His wasn’t the voice she’d expected to find her, but she shouldn’t have been surprised to hear it. A smile tugged at her lips. She’d come out to the schoolhouse to clear her head. Finding a dress had been simple because for all that nothing remained the same, she still knew what would make her look nearly irresistible to Tommy. Even as the thought of him choosing to ignore her in spite of the dress sent a sharp pain through her chest, she welcomed the distraction. Anything to get away from Sidney and his plans for the Shelby Foundation dinner tonight.

“They named a foundation after me. Gonna help fund this school. Seems a bit like I’ve died before my time.” Adeline paused, turned to face Alfie. “Again.”

“You have a habit, right, a bad habit of dyin’ before it’s time to do such things. Always getting things out of order you are.”

“I didn’t die.”

“Didn’t you?” Alfie asked, head tilted as though pondering it. “They feared you might have died. Died, that day at the Darby, or in the days after. What they don’t realize yet, these Shelby’s of yours, is that you did. Die.” Alfie paused. “Again.”

“Momento Mori.”

“Bloody hell.”

Her eyes snapped up to him at the utter disappointment coloring the words. The deep set frown on his lips, the pinched look around his eyes, the way his fingers rubbed together at his sides - she’d seen him like that with fucking Ollie. Fuck.

“It had to be done.”

“Had to be done, right,” Alfie nodded slowly, absently.

She hated his tone. Hated more how everything around Birmingham felt wrong, as though she didn’t belong here anymore. A thought she viciously ignored because if she didn’t belong here with Tommy, then she knew she belonged nowhere. It meant she might as well stay with Sidney because he might not care for her, but he had a use for her, and usefulness would keep her a live a bit longer…and that had to be better than dying of a broken heart.

“Of all the people in my life, Alfie, I thought you’d be the one to understand.”

Alfie nodded again, stroked his beard. He took a step closer to her. “Understanding I ‘ave, pet. It’s not understanding that’s the trouble is it? Not the trouble with me, not the trouble with Thomas - ” he paused, nodded again. “You’re asking for absolution, for forgiveness, pet, and that, right, that is much more difficult to come by.”

Adeline choked back a sob because this was Alfie. The man she relied on to understand her circumstance, her choices.

“752 days, pet. It’s a long time to be separated from your family.”

“I had to make sure you were safe.”

“Not your job to protect me, pet. Not from the likes of George Bergmann.”

She wanted to snort at the derisive tone he used whenever he said George’s name. The way he elongated the vowels as though they’d caused him personal offense.

“Goes by Sidney Reilly now,” Adeline said. “Seems you were right about him being Russian.”

Alfie rubbed his beard again. Adeline frowned at the red irritated skin she could see. He wasn’t taking care of himself as he should. She walked to the base of the stairs leading to the schoolhouse and sat.

“Whatever name he goes by makes no difference to me, pet. Still don’t need you protecting me from him.”

“Wasn’t just you I was protecting that day.”

Alfie nodded. “Yes, of course. Protected Thomas, protected all the lads there at the Darby that day. Lads who did a gorgeous, just beautiful job it was, at killing many of Campbell’s men.”

“This was different.”

“Was it?”

Adeline narrowed her eyes. She pushed up from her spot on the stairs and moved in on Alfie. “You know it is. This is bigger than a turf war in Birmingham or London. Campbell was just the opening for Sidney’s larger plan. It was him all along, pulling the strings, testing his plans.”

“And you played right into his hand. Like a puppet on a fuckin’ string you danced to his tune. Thought you were smarter than that.”

“Fuck you.”

“Fuck me?”

Adeline turned her head away.

“Why didn’t you leave him? I allowed you to go, right, nodded me fuckin’ head because I thought you’d lead him on a merry chase and kill ‘im, as is your right. Not fuckin’ allow him to take you with ‘im.”

Adeline whirled around so fast she knew her neck would be sore the next day. “Leave? You don’t think I thought about it? Every day I thought about it. How easy it would be to sneak out, to disappear in the middle of the night. To come back to London, to Birmingham, to fucking Small Heath. But what would I have come back to, Alfie, hm? Corpses? Would you have me come home to a pile of dead bodies? Sidney had, still does have, men watching the Shelby’s. Now I know he’s got the fuckin’ Economic League on side, and who knows how far that reach goes.”

“Excuses, pet. Pathetic excuses.”

“I didn’t expect you to hate me so much.”

“Bloody hell, pet. I don’t hate you. I’m angry, right, so angry I hardly know what to do with meself, but couldn’t hate you. Same as Thomas, the fool that he is, can’t hate you anymore than I can. But, anger? Oh, got plenty of that, deserved it is, too. Bloody foolish girl, right, runnin’ off, not coming home. Not lettin’ any of us help you. After all this time, I thought you’d trust me more than that.”

“You sound just like Thomas,” Adeline began. “Talkin’ ‘bout trust like it’s all so simple.”

“Not simple. Not simple at all, but you make it difficult to help you when you run off and stay gone. Sending messages like it’s scraps from the table for bloody Cyril. He misses you, too. Pouts around the ‘ouse like a pathetic thing.”

“Sidney brought me to Small Heath,” Adeline said. “A couple of weeks after the Darby, after I thought about coming back. I snuck out of where he had us staying. Sidney caught up with me a couple of miles from Small Heath, and brought me the rest of the way into town. I saw Thomas.” Adeline smiled at the memory. “He walked down the street as he always had, coat billowing behind him. Sidney pointed to a rooftop on a building adjacent to where we stood. Hid himself fairly well, but I know a sharpshooter when I see one, and there one sat just waiting. Barrel of that rifle trained on Thomas. I understood Sidney’s message. How is Tommy supposed to defend himself from an attack like that, hm?”

Alfie nodded. “You know, I’ve often wondered what it would take to break you. One of the most stubborn women I’ve ever met. Strongest, too. Very strong. Strong of will, of mind - not allowing anyone, anything to break her. Now, George - er, Sidney, what a fucking stupid name, if you let him, pet, he will break you. Not a shattering, not an honorable death. No. He’ll take a small piece of you at a time. So small right, that you won’t even notice it until he’s taken so many small pieces that you’re not you anymore. Right, and he’ll take those stolen pieces of you and reassemble them for you, present it as a gift he will, a fucking present for you. And you’ll take it because you won’t know to know anymore. He’ll have made you stupid. Deadly, but stupid. I fear, pet, he may have already started.”

Adeline stared at Alfie. She could hear the blood roaring through her veins, felt hear heart beating fiercely in her breast. How much of her had Sidney already taken? Was she already lost? She feared she might be.

“About that day,” Alfie began as though it were an afterthought. “That day Sidney brought you to Small Heath, put on a show for you, right, a bloody show. You didn’t look closely enough, not closely enough at all. Taught you better than that, but Sidney has this power over you, pet, don’t like it, not at all because had you been lookin’, you’d’ve seen on the opposite rooftop another man with a rifle aimed at the sniper you focused all of your energy on.”

“What?”

Her voice sounded distant, as though through a tunnel. Her eyes dimmed a bit at the edges, her body swayed. Alfie caught her as her knees gave out and together they crumpled to the ground with enough force to push the air from her lungs. White noise echoed through her mind.

“You - ”

“Faith, pet. Godless thing you are, but have some faith in me, right? I’d not let the one man, the only man, who brings the most brilliant smile to your face, right, the happiest I’ve ever seen you is when you’re with Thomas Shelby, and I’d not let the likes of Sidney Reilly take that from you so easily.”

“You saw me with him that day?”

Alfie pressed a kiss to the side of her head. Adeline allowed the tears she’d been holding since she’d come back to Birmingham trail down her face. How had she allowed this to happen? Would it have been as simple as leaving, as coming home and allowing the danger to follow her? What an embarrassment she was. Missing the signs that Alfie’d been there, just over her shoulder. She thought back to when Michael and Isaiah had shown up, how it was a friend of Alfie who offered them a safe place to meet. Did she really doubt the powerful men in her life so much? How could fear take control of her so easily?

“You must walk your own path. Don’t like it, and I think you made a damn foolish choice, but some lessons are meant to be learned the hard way. Stubborn, godless, girl that you are. Foolish, too. I’ve known where you were each day since you’ve been gone. Seemed like you had something to prove to yourself during your time with Sidney, but be careful, pet. He’s got himself nestled in your head, right, like poison. Always has. Never ‘ave figured out how he managed it with you. You’re not the same wide-eyed girl you were when the war began, when Sidney first inserted himself into your life, so don’t act as though you are still that girl.”

Immediately, an argument sprang to her tongue, but she bit it back because she knew Alfie to be correct in his assessment of things. Damn him. He always knew. Knew her. Knew the people around her. Sidney had been in her head for so long that he’d slithered down into her heart. The realization gave her no peace, brought more tears because she didn’t know how to remove him from the small dark corner he’d created for himself. Love, hate - they swirled in an indistinguishable mess in her mind, in her heart.

“I never should have come to Birmingham.”

“Bullshit.”

“Alfie - ”

“I know what has been taken from you,” Alfie’s voice was thick, as though the words brought physical pain to him. “I know. And when Sidney leaves this Earth, he will languish forever in the deepest pit of Hell forever, right? Until then, it is our job, our duty to see him suffer as much as we can for the limited time remaining to him. In order, yes, in order for him to suffer as severely as he must, you need to allow me, allow Thomas to assist you in creating such misery for him that he forever regrets the choices he made.”

Adeline looked away.

“If you intend to continue being a part of Thomas’ family, as you had before, as Mrs. Thomas Shelby, then this duty of yours, this duty to see Sidney Reilly as persecuted as a man can be while he crawls upon the Earth like a slug, then you owe the truth of it all to Thomas, to your future husband.”

“He can never know!”

Alfie growled as his eyes narrowed. “And where have your secrets landed you, hm? Have they served you yet, pet?”

“This is nothing like that. You claim you know, and you know better than most others would, but it’s not something you could possibly understand, Alfie. The shame of knowing I’ll never bear children, never feel life grow in my womb, never be the mother to the children of the man I love. Tommy deserves a…whole woman. One who can provide him heirs.”

“Did Thomas Shelby become the bloody King in the two years you’ve been gone, pet? Heirs? Do you listen to the nonsense you speak to me? Bloody heirs.”

Alfie turned to face her, took her chin in his hand. “If I ever hear you say such things about yourself, lies about not being a bloody whole woman, I’ll take you over me knee. Any any, yeah, any fucking foolish man who dares say you’re anything less because of circumstances, right, circumstances a lesser woman would have died from I’ll kill ‘em with me bare hands. Hell pet, li’l Ollie could kill the man who would say anything so stupid about you.”

Adeline laughed at the thought of Ollie killing someone, the sound startled her enough to pull a genuine smile to her face. Alfie always made things sound simple, easy.

“‘Course it’s easy, pet,” Alfie said, proving once again that he probably did read her mind. “Trust Thomas. He’s earned at least that from you after all of this, yeah? Any man willing to march into Churchill’s office and demand assistance locating his missing fiancée like he did, right, deserves the truth from you because he loves you to the point of madness. When he’s done punishing you because of his anger, he’ll go back to lovin’ you so much it makes the rest of us uncomfortable because we know any love we have won’t be so powerful as his. Make jealous fools of us all he does when he’s ‘round you.”

“You sound sure he loves me as he did before.”

Alfie snorted as he used his cane to stand to his feet. “‘Course I’m sure. Tonight at this party of his, right, he’ll see you in your dress. See the way Sidney pretends you belong to him, yeah, he’ll watch the way Sidney parades around with you on his arm even though you’ve still got another man’s ring on your finger and Thomas Shelby will not tolerate it, no. His jealousy will overcome his anger at you, and well, jealous men are dangerous beasts, are they not? Thomas will do something foolish, you’ll scold him for it, and then do unmentionable things to each other that I never want to hear a single word about, understand? Not a single word.”

Adeline laughed at the rather traumatized look on Alfie’s face. She could very well understand his position because if he had a woman in his life, she’d want him happy, but she’d also want no details about their bedroom dalliances. She stood, watched the way the streetlamp cast shadows along his cheek.

“I hope you’re right, Alfie.”

“Hope? Hope is for children, like wishes, yeah, useless things, fickle, right, but you listen closely to me, right, listen because I’ll not be repeating myself. I’ve not been wrong ‘bout Thomas Shelby, not once since you brought him into my life, allowed him into yours. I’m not about to start being wrong ‘bout him now.”

Adeline pressed a kiss to his cheek. “Thank you, Alfie.”

Master List

Tag List: @stevie75 @muhahaha303 @highgardenrosexx @dolllol2405 @allie131313 @mootiemoose

#thomas shelby #tommy shelby #alfie solomons #peaky blinders #peaky blinders fanfic #peaky blinders fanfiction #tommy shelby x oc #thomas shelby x oc

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theunseenpoet · 25 days

Text

Lovers Lies | Thomas TMR (2)

Pairing: Thomas x fem OC

Word Count: 1.4k

(1)

IT wasn't a surprise when Sandra saw Minho leaning back against the wall out the front of the shower hut, his muscled arms crossed over his chest with a sharp look in his eyes that softened when he saw her.

"How long did you get at the creek today?" he asked her, pushing off the wall.

"Only an hour," she simply answered, stopping beside him with dry clothes and a towel still wrapped around her body. "Chuck helped me wash some clothes before Carl made us get out."

Minho chuckled, looking behind her to where Carlos was, hanging up the wet clothes over a rope tied from one tree to another.

"You know, you don't have to stand out here every time I go for a shower, right?" She placed a hand on her hip, arching a brow.

Minho shrugged his shoulders with a careless smirk on his face. "Is this you finally inviting me to join you in the show—Ow! Jesus Sansa!"

"Say stupid things, get stupid rewards," Sandra muttered, rolling her eyes as she walked into the showers.

"It was just a suggestion!" Minho called out, muttering a curse under his breath as he leaned back against the wall.

"Imagine if Carl heard that suggestion," she shot back, walking past a few empty shower stalls until she reached the end one and walked in.

The other doors didn't have a lock, but with her being the only girl, Gally had put a lock on one and it became clear to everyone that that particular shower was hers. Thankfully, no one argued about that.

Sandra got undressed and then took her braids out before quickly washing her body and hair with shampoo, not wanting to leave Minho waiting for a long time outside when dinner would no doubt be starting to get served up soon.

A shower two stalls down turned on and Sandra froze, her hands still in her hair. Anxiety crept through her body like a spider as she strained her ears to listen, praying that one of the boys wouldn't try anything and also wondering where the hell Minho went.

"It's only me!" Carlos called out, instantly making her relax. "I told Minho to go get dinner."

"You could've told me you were coming in, slinthead," Sandra shot back, turning off the shower. "I think I had a heart attack."

"And this is exactly why Minho stands outside when I'm not," he muttered.

Sandra ignored his comment and dried herself before slipping into black trackies that Nick used to own and then she slipped on a black shirt and her black jacket. Carlos was still in his closed stall as she walked past, letting him know she was going to the kitchen to get some dinner.

The sky had turned twilight by the time she walked out of the showers and made her way toward the kitchen, returning a few smiles thrown her way. As usual, Newt, Alby, and Minho were seated at the same picnic table with Chuck joining them. Well, that was unusual but made her smile. The youngest boy normally waited for her before joining the others, but it seemed he was starting to show more confidence.

"Clint said you made more cookies," Jeff started, pulling her attention to the curly-haired, light-skinned boy standing in line ahead of her with a smile. "I ran all the way over here to make sure I get one before one of these idiots ate them all."

Sandra laughed, noticing a few boys eating cookies as she looked around. "I'll make more tomorrow if we run out tonight."

"I heard through a few boys that you might make your blueberry muffins tomorrow," Winston said, turning around in front of Jeff. "Be sure to save me one."

"She'll make them when she wants, mate," Newt cut in, placing a hand on Sandra's shoulder. "Now get your dinner and eat up. Tonight's an early night."

Winston and Jeff nodded, turning their backs to the pair as Newt pulled Sandra toward the front of the line, past the other boys.

Frypan was waiting behind the serving bench with a smile and two trays held out to her. "I made sure to give you an extra cookie since you made them," he informed her.

"Thanks, Sig," she hummed, taking both the trays with a warm smile before walking over to the picnic table with Newt.

"Sansa, these cookies are good," Alby commented, taking a bite into his cookie as Sandra sat down beside Minho.

"Yeah, they are," Chuck said, food spitting out of his mouth as he sat across from Sandra.

Sandra slapped his hand with a scowl. "Cover ya' mouth when you're talking with food in your mouth," she hissed.

All the boys started laughing as Chuck blushed, covering his mouth with a hand while chewing the food in his mouth.

"What's got you idiots laughing?" Carlos asked, pushing his way between Minho and Sandra, forcing them to sit on either edge of the wooden bench. He took the second tray from Sandra, grinning at the mashed potatoes, carrots, and pork sausages. "What did Chuck do now?"

"Sansa got up him for eating with his mouth full of food," Minho answered with a grin. "It probably turned the little shuck face on."

"Minho!" Alby, Newt, and Sandra groaned at the same time, the three of them throwing parts of their dinner at his head.

"You're an idiot," Alby said, shaking his head while standing up. "I gotta check on a few things but I'll be back soon." Sandra gave him a small smile before he walked away.

With all of them being focused on a complaining Minho who was currently picking food out of his black hair, none of them noticed the tall scrawny boy standing at the end of the table, between Sandra and Chuck.

"Did you clean my shoes?" Adam asked Chuck, gaining everyone's attention.

Chuck seemed to shrink himself in his seat, a look of fear in his eyes that Sandra noticed straight away while pushing around the mashed potatoes on her tray. The youngest boy had been in the Glade for nearly a month now and the other Gladers had stopped teasing him. All except one—Adam. There had been a few times when Sandra saw Adam punch Chuck in the stomach, but every time she intervened, the older boy just didn't seem to care.

"I was busy helping someone else," Chuck quietly admitted, staring down at his tray of dinner.

The other Gladers had gone silent with hard eyes while watching Adam who was staring daggers into the side of Chuck's face. None of them particularly liked Adam and for good reason. He wasn't one of the oldest boys like Alby and Carlos, but he liked to think he was. That somehow made him think he had more power than the other Gladers. And, he seemed to always have it out for Sandra, making rude comments, cat calling her, even telling a few other boys that she was his for the taking.

Disgusting pig.

"I'm a first priority," Adam spat with hatred.

Newt groaned in annoyance, rolling his eyes. "Oh, piss off, mate. You aren't his first priority so why don't you rack off?"

Adam turned his dagger gaze to Newt, crossing his arms over his chest. "Why don't you mind your business, limp boy."

That nickname made Sandra tense. She and Minho were the only ones who knew how exactly Newt got a limp, and for Adam to bring it up against one of her closest friends, enraged her. With one swift movement, she unsheathed the machete that was on Carlos' belt. Before any of them could blink, she pressed the sharpened end against Adam's crouch, not hard enough to cut through the fabric of his brown pants, but hard enough to warn him that she wasn't playing around.

"I would suggest walking away before I de-ball you," Sandra lowly warned, eating a piece of carrot while looking up at him. "It would be a shame to take away your favorite part, even if it's so small."

Minho snickered, covering his mouth with a hand with amusement shining in his eyes at the clear fear covering Adam's face as the boy looked down at the machete and then at Sandra. Chuck turned pale as paper, his eyes wide with surprise. Newt was just as surprised, even after seeing that side of her many times. And Carlos—Oh, the older boy looked as proud as ever while he continued to eat his dinner.

"Well?" Sandra raised a brow at Adam. "You gonna fuck off or piss yourself?"

Adam gulped, taking a step back before looking at Chuck. "You're in deep klunk now."

Sandra clicked her tongue, putting the machete on the table. "You touch a hair on his head, and I won't give you a warning next time," she said with a sweet smile.

The second Adam turned around and started walking away, Minho howled in laughter with Carlos while Newt smiled, shaking his head.

"You're insane, Sansa," Newt mumbled, watching her shrug her shoulders while eating the last of her dinner.

Carlos threw an arm over his sister's shoulders, pulling her into his side. "That she is."

#the maze runner #the maze runner x reader #the maze runner x fem!reader #the maze runner fanfiction #the maze runner fanfic #tmr thomas #tmr thomas x reader #tmr thomas x fem!reader #tmr x reader #tmr thomas x oc #wattpad #wattpad writer #minho #newt tmr #minho tmr

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spookychick78 · 8 months

Text

End Of The Line

Chapter 8: Daylight

Thomas Hewitt X AFAB!OC

Warnings: None

Word Count: 2,780

"Go on, Tommy," she heard Hoyt say from behind him.

Ronnie's stomach was a mess of knots as she watched the behemoth of a man who was about to be her 'husband' step closer to her. She could tell he was making a concerted effort to keep his eyes on anything other than her. When he stopped in front of her he allowed himself one glance. She knew this wasn't his idea, but she wasn't sure if he was quite as devastated as she was. She looked up to see him studying her. Though most of his face remained hidden, she could see he had words for her in those blue eyes. His message seemed to be the same as before, he wanted her to trust him. That was harder for her to do than he knew. After this 'wedding' she wasn't sure what to expect. That conversation she overheard led her to believe they were going to do more than just force her to call him her husband. At that point, she'd beg him to kill her and hope he showed her the same mercy he had before and give her what she wanted. When his eyes fell on her lips she returned her gaze to the ground. She did her best to hold back any tears that threatened to escape, she refused to let them see her cry.

"You do clean up nicely, don't you," Hoyt whispered in her ear before he took his place between them.

He gave the two tensed individuals before him a pleased look before he cleared his throat, "I ain't done this before, so I may skip a few steps," he said before he turned to Ronnie, "you don't mind now, do you? I reckon you'd rather just skip to the fun part like Tommy here."

"Hoyt," Luda said sharply.

Ronnie clasped her hands together tightly as she heard the man let out a low chuckle.

"Let's see," he began again, "We're gathered here today in Mama's house before, well, Mama and uncle Monty and I suppose God to witness the holy matrimony of Thomas and," he looked over to Ronnie and waited for her to finish his sentence.

"Ronnie," she said quietly.

"Ronnie? Gotta be short for somethin' better, that right?"

"Hoyt, get on with it," Luda interrupted again.

"Right, the holy matrimony of Thomas and Ronnie," he continued, pleased that he'd successfully managed to agitate each person in the room, "We thank the lord for the blessin' that brought these two kids together."

Ronnie shot him a sharp look as he paused once again. It was sickening to watch him get off on this.

"And what a blessin' it is, idn'it?" He said.

Ronnie wasn't sure what was making her more ill, the fact that this was actually happening to her or the way each word that fell out of his tobacco stained mouth always seemed to have more malice than the last. She looked back up to Thomas to see he kept his gaze controlled and firm on the ground underneath her feet. Her shaky breath was the only sound that filled the silence when Hoyt stopped speaking. Some blessing this was. She could feel the heat rising to her face with each tense moment that passed with that man's eyes on her.

"Look at that," Hoyt said as he took his hand and turned her face to him, "she's blushin'. I say we skip to the good part so you can give the girl what she wants, huh Tommy?"

Ronnie yanked her face out of his hand and faced the ground again.

"Let's get on with it. Thomas Hewitt, do you take this woman to be your wife?" Hoyt said.

Thomas' eyes didn't leave the ground, but he gave a reluctant nod in response.

"Good," Hoyt said before he turned to her with a sick self satisfied smile, "now, Ronnie-uh, what's your last name?"

"I ain't tellin' you," Ronnie said in a low tone full of venom.

Hoyt laughed, "Well, don't matter anyway. You're a Hewitt now, girl."

Her jaw clenched tighter than it ever had, she thought her teeth might shatter under the pressure. She hated how much amusement that bastard was getting out of this. She didn't have to look at him to know he was still wearing that twisted grin on his face.

"No objections then?" He said in response to her silence, "Alright. Go on then, Tommy. Kiss your bride."

Thomas lifted his head to look at Hoyt in anger and disbelief. He knew the man was merciless, but this wasn't right. Ronnie looked up to see the exchange. To her surprise, Thomas looked just as sickened by this as she was.

Hoyt took note of the defiance in Thomas' eyes and stared him down, "Do it, boy."

"Why are you doing this?" Ronnie blurted out, "Can't you see this isn't what he wants?"

"You shut your mouth, girl. You ain't got any idea what he wants," Hoyt shouted, "Now, I told you to kiss your bride boy and we ain't got all day, so you do it or I'll show you how it's done. And trust me," he turned to look her up and down with ill intent, "I'd be more than happy to."

Thomas looked to Mama knowing full well there was nothing she could do to stop this. Still, he silently pleaded with her. She nodded her head as if to say he best do as Hoyt asked. He grit his teeth as he turned back to her. He looked down to see the tears that were welling in her blue eyes. He felt powerless to ease her pain. He knew if he resisted, Hoyt would only subject her to something more horrible than this. All he could do was be as gentle as he knew how. He began to lean down and saw her close her eyes to release a few tears. They rolled down her cheek before he pressed his lips to the side of her mouth through the hole of his mask. He could taste the salt of sweat and tears on her soft skin and he could feel her tense at his touch. He couldn't blame her, he only hoped she knew this wasn't him. He was just as helpless as she was, he only wanted to keep her from harm and the best way he knew how was to give Hoyt what he wanted. She let out a sob before he pulled away.

"Ain't that beautiful, Mama," Hoyt said as he watched Ronnie cry, "girls so happy she's cryin'. Now, why don't you go on upstairs and get that dress off, unless you wanna save that for Tommy to take care of," he tangled his fingers in the lace on the back of the gown, "might be kinda fun to watch him figure this shit out."

"Nobody's watchin' anything," Luda said as she stood up and made her way over to the poor girl.

Luda shooed Hoyt's hand off of Ronnie and gave him a stern look, "Get your hands off her. She's Tommy's wife now, which means I'll not have anymore of that filthy nonsense comin' outta your mouth about her. She's family."

"That don't mean nothin' until it's consummated, ain't that right? She ain't family, yet," Hoyt added with a wink towards Ronnie.

"I meant what I said, Hoyt. I'll have none of it. Ronnie darlin'," Luda said as she handed the girl an old flask, "this'll help calm your nerves. Get on upstairs. Tommy'll be up soon."

"I don't want to," Ronnie begged in a broken voice.

Luda took the girl's face in her hands and dried some of her tears, "You ain't got nothin' to worry about, child. Tommy may look mean and all, but he's a sweet boy, you'll see. He won't hurt you. Now, go on."

She took Ronnie's hands and placed the flask in them before she patted her to send her on her way. Thomas watched silently as she hung her head and disappeared up the stairs. He looked to Mama who was smiling up at him. He almost allowed himself to smile back at her, but Hoyt was quick to put a stop to that.

"Go on up there, boy," he whispered to Thomas, "be a man."

Hoyt walked out of the room without another word and Luda took her opportunity to go to her son. She reached her arms up to hug him.

"I always knew you'd find your girl," she said in his ear.

He'd hoped her words would ease his mind, but they only reminded him of those tears he'd tasted when he kissed Ronnie. She may have been his wife, but he knew she was far from his girl, despite what Mama said.

"And don't you pay no mind to Hoyt," she added as she pulled away, "she's your wife, not his. You do what you want with her, but I know I raised you right. She's a lucky girl, she'll see that soon enough."

Thomas gave her a small nod before he turned to go back to the basement.

"Oh, Tommy," Luda said, stopping him in his tracks.

"You best go on upstairs. It's gettin' late and there ain't no sense in you sleepin' in the basement no more, you oughta share a room with your wife," she said with a nod.

Thomas let out a heavy sigh before he turned back to her.

"Besides, it's one less thing Hoyt'll bother you about," she added.

He looked upstairs apprehensively. Thomas didn't fear much, but he was scared stiff to be alone with Ronnie. In fact, he was more scared than he'd ever been. He wasn't quite sure why, it wasn't like she could hurt him. Well, at least not physically.

Ronnie slammed the bedroom door behind her and let herself fall apart. She ripped her hair out of the bun Luda had tied it in and tangled her fingers through it as she sobbed. She laid down on the bed and cradled her face in her palms. Part of her refused to believe this was her life and that what had happened was reality. The voices she heard below urging her 'husband' to go to her confirmed this was not just a bad dream. She reached for the flask Luda had given her and unscrewed the top as fast as she could to take a swig. She winced. It was whiskey and it was warm. A gag threatened to escape her, but she pushed past it and chugged as much of the warm liquid as she could manage when she heard footsteps coming up the stairs. She threw it down to the floor and scrambled out of the bed to get as far from the door as possible. She saw him pause in front of it and felt her heart beat faster when she saw the handle turn. Thomas slowly crept into the room and kept his eyes down as he closed the door behind him. He knew she had no way of knowing he was just as wary of her as she was him. The silence between them was heavy. He finally caved to look up to see she had her back pressed against the wall and that hateful look in her eyes.

"You're gonna listen, since that seems to be what you're good at," Ronnie started as firmly as she could through her shaky breath, "I don't care what your crazy family calls me or what y'all think just happened down there, but I'll tell you this. You should know just as well as I do that I am not your wife. I ain't nothin' to you and you ain't nothin' to me except a way out of this hell hole. I ain't sharin' a bed with you, I won't touch you and you don't touch me, got it?"

That was pretty much what he thought she'd say, though he'd expected a few more insults tagged on. She hadn't been as mean as he was afraid she'd be. He stepped forward and she pressed herself tighter against the wall. He nodded his head so she knew he understood and made his way to the floor by the edge of the bed. She watched him apprehensively as he lowered himself to the ground and laid down. She stayed where she was for a moment more until he had settled. She hesitantly climbed back into the bed and laid flat on her back to stare up at the tattered ceiling. She needed sleep badly, but she knew it wouldn't come easy. She heard him shift on the wooden floor and tensed again until he fell silent once more. He stayed still for a long while after that and she began to think maybe he really didn't mean her any harm. She sat up and peered over the edge of the bed to see he was doing the same as she had been. His eyes were focused on the ceiling, but she knew he could see her out of his peripheral. Though, he didn't turn to face her. She let out a sigh and grabbed one of the pillows.

"Here," she said as she held it out to him, "I don't need both."

He sat up and took it from her hands. She looked at him softer now.

"I'm sorry," she said quietly, "I guess maybe this really isn't what you wanted either."

She looked down at her hands as she played with her fingers. As far as Thomas was concerned, she had nothing to apologize for. He didn't deserve it. He didn't deserve any of her kindness. He knew what he was and he knew that she wasn't yet aware. He was a killer just as much as Hoyt was. She should have run the first time she'd seen him instead of smiled and he should have done more to make sure she never ended up here, because he didn't have the slightest idea how to get her out.

"I was on my way to Santa Fe," she said as she continued to look at her own hands, "no place in particular, just far away from Houston. I was gonna start a life. I didn't have much of one before, unless you count waitin' tables as a life worth livin'. Other than that diner, I wasn't allowed to live. I woke up, went to work and came home to a man who said he loved me, but if you looked real close I think he hated me. He may not have been quite as mean as that man downstairs, but he came real close. I was runnin' from him when I ran into you. I thought I was free," she said with a humorless laugh, "I shoulda known better. I always end up runnin' to somethin' worse. Before him it was my daddy. Come to think of it, he'd probably find this real funny. He always said I wasn't the marryin' kind, mama too. Guess they were wrong."

She looked back up at him, half expecting him to have laid back down by now, but he hadn't. He was listening to her.

"I don't know why I'm tellin' you all this. Maybe it's cause you're a good listener," she said with the ghost of a smile, "best one I've ever met."

She seemed to get lost in his eyes after she fell silent, but he knew she wasn't looking at him. She was thinking. Her smile started to fade and sadness washed over her features once again.

"Or maybe it's cause, I don't know," her brows furrowed as she trailed off and looked back down at her hands.

He didn't quite realize the way he hung on her every word until she had stopped speaking, but he couldn't take his eyes off of her. No one had ever spoken to him like she was, like he was capable of understanding, not even Mama. He wanted her to continue, but he could tell whatever it was she was thinking was wounding her.

"I don't wanna die here, Thomas," she whispered.

He couldn't remember if he'd heard her say his name before, but the way it sounded in her fragile voice sent a chill down his spine. Now, the words she spoke he had heard those before, but he had never cared like he did now. He didn't want her to die here either.

"But if I do," she continued, "at least someone might remember my story."

He was going to do everything in his power to make sure this was just a part of her story, not the end of it.

"'Cause to tell you the truth, no one's gonna come lookin' for me."

#horror fiction #slasher #slasher fandom #horror #slasher fanfiction #horror fanfiction #horror fan #slasher x reader #thomas hewitt #thomas hewitt fanfic #texas chainsaw the beginning #texas chainsaw massacre

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parkerslatte · 6 months

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Dalliance | Chapter One

Matthew Fairchild x Fem!OC

Word Count: 2.4k

Warnings: mentions of blood.

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Delilah Lightwood had fought plenty of demons in her seventeen years on the planet. When she fought with her blade in hand, she fought with a sense of grace only Delilah was able to achieve. She made fighting look like a dance, elegant and meaningful. Her blue dress flew around her making the sight of her fighting look even more graceful.

Her cousin, Thomas, who had once been her height and scrawny, was now over a head above her and broad shouldered. He fought beside Delilah as the two stood back to back as they fought the Deumas demon. Christopher had his bow in hand and was standing a little further away, his eyes that were usually unfocused on anything that wasn’t the chemicals in Henry Fairchild’s lab, were sharp and attentive. Matthew. Matthew Fairchild was dressed in clothes not suitable for fighting in the slightest, yet he was holding his own well.

Delilah looked around for James, but couldn’t see him around her.

“Tom,” Delilah yelled over the sound of the demons. “Where’s James?”

“I don’t–” Thomas cut himself off as he ran forward.

Delilah turned to find James standing still in the path of the demon, gripping onto his knives. Delilah gripped her seraph blade tighter as she watched James let the daggers fly. One plunged into the demon's throat and the other into its forehead. Its eyes rolled back as it spasmed.

Delilah let her guard down a little as she stepped closer to the dying demon. However before she could even step closer James yelled and before Delilah could process anything the the creature burst apart and showered Delilah, Christopher, Thomas and Matthew in ichor and burnt bits of what could possibly be described as goo.

“How–wha–?” Christopher stuttered, at a clear loss for words. Slime dripped off his nose and gold-rimmed spectacles. “But how?”

“Do you mean how is it possible that we finally tracked down the last demon in London and it was the most disgusting?” James said, joining the others. “Ours is not to question why, Christopher.”

Delilah looked at herself. Her dress was completely ruined. She had only just purchased it as well. Her brown hair had tumbled out of its updo while she was fighting. It cascaded around her shoulders, the ends dripping with goo. Delilah cringed.

“This is an outrage,” Matthew said, tossing his extinguished blade aside. “Do you know how much I spent on this waistcoat?”

“Your waistcoat? Look at my dress!” Delilah exclaimed, “I’m sure my whole dress was at least twice as expensive as your waistcoat, sweetheart.”

Christopher passed her a handkerchief. Only half of it was clean and free of any demon remains. She used the clean half to wipe away anything on her face, cringing as she did so.

“No one told you to go out patrolling for demons dressed like an extra from The Importance of Being Earnest .” said James, tossing Matthew a clean handkerchief.

“I don’t think he’s dressed like an extra,” said Thomas, who had been cleaning off Christopher.

“Thank you.” Matthew said.

“I think he’s dressed like a main character.” Thomas grinned.

“I would have to argue against that, Tom,” Delilah said, throwing the ruined handkerchief to the ground. “I believe that I am dressed like the main character. Matthew is a supporting character at most.” she teased.

Matthew sent her a playful glare as he mopped his dull gold hair, “This is the first time in a year that we’ve patrolled and actually found a demon, so I’d supposed that my waistcoat would probably survive the evening. It’s not as if any of you are wearing gear either.”

“Stop scrubbing me, Thomas,” said Christopher, windmilling his arms. “We should go back to the Devil and clean up there.”

There was a murmur of agreement among the group of shadowhunters as they each began to make their way to The Devil Tavern. As she walked, Delilah tried to scrape the goo out of her hair, gagging when it stuck to her hands. Just thinking about the warm shower she would take when that got to the Tavern almost made getting covered in demon remains worth it.

“Lila,” said Matthew, falling into step beside her.

Delilah gagged once more as she wiped another bit of goo on her ruined dress. She turned to look at Matthew with a smile.

“I really liked that dress.” Matthew commented.

“Me too,” Delilah sighed sadly, “It was quite new as well.”

“Although it does give me an excuse to repay you for the waistcoat you gifted to me last month,” said Matthew casually.

“No,” Delilah said sharply. “That was a gift Matthew, I saw it in the shop window and knew that it would complement your eyes perfectly. The shades of green matched beautifully. Don’t you dare repay me by replacing my dress.”

“You threaten me, yet,” said Matthew, pulling a fresh handkerchief from his trouser pocket, “I will do as I wish.”

The blonde boy gently gripped Delilah’s arm causing her to stop in her tracks. He reached forward tilting her face towards him and wiped a drop of blood from her cheek that Delilah hadn’t even noticed that she had. She flinched as the fabric brushed over the small cut on her cheek.

Delilah looked at Matthew as he wiped away the blood. There wasn’t much and most of it was already dried to her skin. His eyebrows furrowed in concentration as he worked around the small cut trying to avoid brushing over it again. Once he was finished, Matthew stepped away, straightening up.

“Shall we catch up to the others?” Matthew questioned, offering Delilah his arm.

Delilah took it gracefully, “Yes we shall, my dear.”

Once the Devil Tavern came into Delilah’s view, she smiled and released Matthew’s arm, walking ahead of the boys wanting to be the first person in the shower. She heard Thomas and Matthew complain as she sped past them already knowing what she was up to. Once she was in their small room, Delilah slipped into the small bathroom and locked the door behind her.

She stripped off her ruined dress and left it on the bathroom floor, creating the pile of ruined clothes that she knew would only get bigger once the boys showered after her. Once the water hit her skin, Delilah let out a sigh of delight. The dirt on her skin ran from her body and down the drain. She combed through her hair getting out anything that shouldn’t be there.

Once she had finished cleaning herself, Delilah stepped out of the shower and slipped on a simple dress she kept at the tavern in case she ever found herself in the situation she was in tonight. Her hair was still dripping wet although she grabbed a small towel to pat the ends dry. As soon as Delilah stepped out of the bathroom, a glass was thrust in her hand. She noticed that Matthew’s hair was slightly damp and summed up that he must’ve cleaned his hair in the bedroom that was rarely used for anything other than storing clothes.

Delilah took a sip from the glass and collapsed on the couch, Matthew taking a seat beside her and Thomas opposite her who held his glass in his hand yet made no move to drink from it. The door to the room opened which caught Matthew’s attention.

“James!” said Matthew delightfully. “Is that a bottle of cheap spirits I see before me?”

“James,” Christopher said, emerging from the bedroom. “I thought you’d gone home?”

“Why on earth would I go home?” James said, taking a seat beside Matthew.

“No idea,” Christopher said cheerfully. “But you might have. People do odd things all the time. We had a cook who went to do the shopping and was found two weeks later in Regent’s Park. She’d become a zookeeper.”

“I don’t recall that?” Delilah said, although it came out as more of a question.

As Christopher opened his mouth to respond to his sister, Matthew’s voice chimed out, full of concern.

“Your hand,” Matthew’s gaze was fixated on James. “What happened?”

“Just a cut,” James said, opening his hand. Some of the blood was dried yet some still looked fresh.

“No, James,” said Delilah, “Mine is just a cut. You should have said something.”

“I would have fixed you up in the alley.” Matthew reached for his stele.

“I forgot.”

“Did something happen?” Thomas asked.

“It was very quick.” James said with some reluctance.

“Many things that are ‘very quick’ are also very bad,” said Matthew, “Guillotines come down very quickly, for instance. When Christopher’s experiments explode, they often explode very quickly. Or when our Lila is working on a painting and accidentally spills her coffee across it, it happens quickly.”

“Please don’t mention that again.” Delilah groaned.

“Clearly, I have neither exploded nor been guillotined…or had coffee spilt on me,” said James. “I–went into the shadow realm.”

“I thought all that business had stopped,” Matthew said. “I thought Jem helped you.”

“He did help me. It’s been a year since the last time. I suppose it was too much to hope it was gone forever.”

“Doesn’t it usually happen when you’re upset?” said Thomas. “Was it the demon attacking?”

“No,” James said quickly. “No, I can’t imagine–no.”

“Demons don’t bother our boy,” said Matthew, finishing the healing rune. “It must have been something else.”

“You ought to talk to your uncle then, Jamie.” Thomas said.

James shook his head. “It was nothing. I was surprised by the demon; I grabbed at the blade by accident. I’m sure that’s what caused it.”

“Did you turn into a shadow?” Delilah asked.

James didn’t get the chance to answer.

“Speaking of the demon–” Christopher said, looking up from his notebook.

“Which we weren’t.” Matthew pointed out.

“–what kind was it again?” Christopher asked, “The one that exploded, I mean.”

“As opposed to the one that didn’t?” said James.

“It was a Deumas, Christopher. Odd it was here; they’re not usually found in cities.” Thomas explained.

“I saved some of it’s ichor,” said Christopher, “I caution all of you not to drink any of it.”

“Christopher, you ruined my plans for the night.” Delilah teased her brother.

“I can assure you we had no plans to do any such thing, you daft boot.” Thomas said.

“Enough talk about ichor. Let’s toast again to Thomas being home!” Matthew changed the subject.

Thomas protested however everyone raised their glass. Everyone except Christopher, who was about to clink his test tube against James’s glass when Matthew confiscated it and handed Christopher a glass of hock instead.

Delilah smiled at Thomas as he gave up to protesting against the praise directed his way as a smile appeared on his face.

“When you’re entirely done, I do have some news,” Thomas said. “You know that old manor in Chiswick that once belonged to my grandfather? Used to be called Lightwood House? It was given to my aunt Tatiana by the Clave some years ago, but she’s never used it–preferred to stay in Idris at the manor with my cousin, er…”

“Gertrude,” said Christopher helpfully.

“Grace,” James said. “Her name is Grace.”

“Yes, Grace,” agreed Thomas. “Aunt Tatiana’s always kept them both in splendid isolation in Idris–no visitors and all that–but apparently she’s decided to move back to London, so my parents are all in a dither about it.”

“Grace.” James began. “Grace is moving to London?”

“Seems Tatiana wants to bring her out in society.” Thomas said. “I suppose you’ve met her, in Idris? Doesn’t your house there adjoin Blackthorn manor?”

James nodded. “I usually see her every summer. Not this summer, of course.”

“London is being positively swarmed by new arrivals,” Matthew remarked. “The Carstairs family will be with us soon, won’t they?”

James nodded. “Lucie is wild with excitement to see Cordelia.”

“I’m looking forward to meeting Cordelia. If she’s as wonderful as Lucie describes her, I simply cannot wait.” Delilah said, taking a sip of her drink.

Matthew poured more wine into his glass. “Can’t blame them for being tired of rusticating in Devon–what’s that house of theirs called? Cirenworth? I gather they arrive in a day or two–”

All the drinks that were residing on the table and Christopher’s test tube were suddenly across the table as Thomas moved.

“ All of the Carstairs family are coming, did you say?” said Thomas.

“Not Elias Carstairs,” said Matthew. “But Cordelia, and of course…”

“Oh, bloody hell,” said Christopher. “Alastair Carstairs. I’m not remembering incorrectly? He’s an awful pill?”

“‘Awful pill’ seems a kind way of putting it,” said James. “We can avoid Alastair, Tom. There’s no reason for us to spend time with him, and I can’t imagine he’ll be yearning for our society either.”

Delilah didn’t have any altercations with Alastair while she was at the Academy. He never really targeted her, although since he targeted her friends and family, he indirectly targeted her too. By nature, Delilah was very protective about those she cared about. If someone insults them, or does them wrong, it would take her a while to trust them.

Thomas spluttered, not in response to James however. Christopher’s test tube had spilled out and began to eat through the table. Delilah watched as the boys lept up from their seats to grab dishcloths or anything to clean up the mess eating away the table they would surely have to replace.

Thomas hurled a pitcher of water at the table, which in turn drenched Christopher. Matthew began laughing while Delilah tried to conceal her laughter as much as she could.

“I say,” said Christopher, mopping the wet hair out of his eyes. “I do think that worked, Tom. The acid has been neutralised.”

“Someone should neutralise you, you mopstick.”

Matthew collapsed on the couch in hysterics, his back rested against Delilah. The Lightwood girl gave up concealing her laughter as she joined in with Matthew. Their laughter was loud and echoed throughout the room. Her arm rested around Matthew as his body shook with laughter. Wiping a tear away from the corner of her eye, Delilah removed her arm from around Matthew to which he simply gripped her arm and brought it back around him, gently holding onto her wrist as his laughter began to subside. Delilah smiled.

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valentineforlemonandcherry · 1 year

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Foxtail & Wolfsbane 36

Summary: Your lifelong obsession to hunt down the Nine-Tailed Fox has not gone as expected, and seventeen years later, you find yourself coming back to the place where it all started: Hogwarts. However, with Sirius Black’s escape from Azkaban and Headmaster Dumbledore’s hire of a certain Professor R. J. Lupin, you suddenly find yourself intertwined in the fates of those with whom you thought you had parted ways with long ago.

[Multi-Post Story] [Rowan Scamander x Reader] [Remus Lupin x Reader] [Young Sirius Black x Reader] [Tristan Graves x Reader] [Severus Snape x Reader] *Note: Rowan Scamander, Tristan Graves, Susana Holmes, Cas Carneirus, Henrietta Weiss, Thomas Picquery, and Magdalene Clarke are OC characters.

Note: Part 36 does not contain any smut.

[Warning: Descriptions of Violence/Battle/Death Scene.]

*Please do not repost or copy my work without my permission. Thank You!

☾ Click Here for Foxtail & Wolfsbane Home Page (All Chapter Links) ☾

“Remus Lupin is a werewolf.”

Your head buzzed frenetically as memories crashed, ruptured, and played out in a million tiny pieces in your mind:

“My mother’s health…”

“Prefect duties…”

“Studying alone for my exams…”

“Feeling under the weather…”

“An Order mission…”

----------

“Recurring scars reminiscent from a bite? That’s strange.”

“Why is it strange?”

“Well, it’s rare for any sickness to ‘reoccur,’ as opposed to remaining constant. On top of that, for it to resemble cuts…”

----------

“You just wanted to help?”

“Yes.”

“You just wanted to help.”

“Um, yes, that’s… what I said.”

“You just wanted to - ”

“- Help, yes - ”

“It’s not your responsibility to help me, sweetheart.”

----------

“I can’t give it to you – that perfect life. It’s not possible with me. Your mother was right about me. Hell, even Sirius would be better for you. At least he could do things with you. Get married, have a family, I can’t even make love to you, sweetheart. I can’t be with you, the way you deserve to be loved. Not without hurting you anyways, and I can’t have that.”

“Why not?”

“Because I’m sick.”

----------

“I wanted to catch you before you left for your mission.”

“What mission?”

“The mission that’s taking off this afternoon.”

“There’s no mission taking off this afternoon.”

----------

“Remus, promise me you won’t let Sirius take advantage of you like this.”

“Leave.”

“What did I do? Please, tell me, what did I do wrong? I love you, Remus, please. Why can’t you understand that? Letting you hurt yourself is the same as hurting myself. So, I can’t let you – Do you hate me because I love you too much? I don’t understand. Help me understand.”

“Just go. Please. I can’t be with you anymore. Please, lovely. Don’t make me say it again.”

“But you asked me. You asked me to stay. You said that you… wanted me. Just two nights ago. You said that. Didn’t you?”

“I did, but I can’t – I can’t follow through on t-that promise.”

----------

“Oh, will you look at that? Your heart is all hollow, little one. You’re so very hurt, aren’t you? Like a little bird with a broken wing. You come so willingly, foolish little bird. And how wonderful – for I am so FAMISHED!”

Your mother gasped when she saw the fox ears appear on top of your head.

But you were too far gone to notice. A cascade of tears was pouring down your face as you slowly fell to the floor, overwhelmed by the long-overdue realization of what Remus Lupin truly was. A werewolf. He’s a werewolf.

Your mother carefully knelt beside you. Seeing your face, she immediately recognized you as her daughter, despite the strange ears on your head. What was more, she saw her daughter struggling against a sharp, unforgiving pain.

“Oh, my love,” your mother whispered, seeing the utter heartbreak written all over your face.

“Mum, I really tried,” you whispered. You knew the words would make no sense to her, but you still said them. In your heart, you filled in the blank, over and over again:

I really tried to be there for Remus, to become someone he could trust.

I really tried to move on from him, to do the right thing and become a healthy, full person without him.

I really tried to be there for Rowan, to help him come back to himself.

I really tried to be a good daughter and good sister, even if you don’t think I did.

I really tried to take responsibility for my own dreams, and become someone that could be proud of herself.

“I know,” your mother replied. Regardless of the particulars, she believed you. Ignoring your fox ears, as only a mother could do, she enveloped you in a tight hug.

A still moment passed – and then you bawled in her arms, crying your heart out for all of the ugly, confused, and inescapable emotions scraping at the inside of your soul, widening the hole in your soul.

Your mother murmured softly to you, “Sweetheart, cry all you want. But know that this pain will pass.”

You shook your head. “It won’t, it won’t…”

“It will. All pain passes.” Your mother stroked your hair, as she confessed, “At least, that’s what I decided to believe when your father passed away.”

Your eyes welled up with fresh tears when you realized that you had never truly thought about how heartbroken your mother must have been when your father passed away. You had been so young then and your mother had transformed so quickly into such a hard and stern person that you never saw her grieve. In this moment, you realized, But of course she grieved. And she’s still grieving.

“You remind me of your father,” your mother whispered, and you could hear the tears in her voice. “He used to run off and do things without much thought, either. He used to buy me flowers on random days or ask me to dinner out of nowhere, even after we were married. I used to scold him for being so irresponsible. But that wonderful energy with which he chased life… I loved him for it. And you have that same energy. It’s hard to watch you sometimes, because you are so like him.”

Your mother finally pulled away from you slightly. She looked down at you. She wiped your face as she murmured, “That’s what I mean when I say that the pain passes. It’s not that you get back what you lost. It’s that you find a meaning to that loss in unlikely places. So, be brave. Face life head-on, as you’ve always done.”

Then, with a bemused expression crossing her face, your mother nodded at your fox ears and ordered, “And, whatever you do, for God’s sake, get rid of these ridiculous things.”

You tried to give your mother a watery smile, but you couldn’t quite manage it, and before you knew it, you had burst into tears again.

Your mother caught you once more and hugged you tightly. She rocked you softly in her arms and sang you lullabies you hadn’t heard since you were very, very young - when you knew nothing of the magical world, not even of the Nine-Tailed Fox.

* * * * * * * * * *

Tristan was staring at his pocketwatch. Tick, tick, tick, tick…

“Tristan.”

Closing his pocketwatch and putting it back into his cloak, Tristan turned to see Cas, Susana, and Magdalene enter the room.

“Everything’s in place,” Cas confirmed. “Between the Ministry of Magic and MCUSA, we’ll have forty guards stationed around the perimeter of the Quidditch campsite and field. There will be Order members in disguise within the campsite as well.”

“I’ve done what I could in terms of permits and searches,” Magdalene added. “Strict search procedures have been put into place. It’ll hold up the lines getting in, but it’ll be worth it if we can keep everyone safe tonight.”

“Good,” Tristan said. But then, he noticed Susana shifting uneasily. “What is it?”

Susana looked away from Tristan. “It’s nothing, master.”

“Susana.” Tristan came over to her and looked at her directly. “Tell me.”

Susana looked over at Cas, who nodded at her encouragingly.

Susana sighed. Reluctantly, she began to explain, “You know that we lost track of the Obscurial when I abandoned my watch post over Dolohov to save Black.”

“Yes, I’m aware of that. Are you uneasy because we no longer know where the Obscurial is?”

“Well, yes, but that’s not all.” Susana’s eyes flickered up to Tristan. There were dark pools under her eyes. She looked quite haggard, as if she had not quite in a while. “Ever since I used Dark Magic at the Dolohov residence, I’ve felt a - a distinct calling within my blood. It’s as if the Obscurial is calling to me.” She bit down on her lower lip. “It’s becoming difficult to resist the lure to battle. I fear that if I were to take on the Obscurial, I may break my Vow with you, Master, and cast the deepest of Dark Magic, which I have sworn never to use.”

Tristan searched Susana’s eyes for a long moment. “Do you wish to use Dark Magic? Tell me the truth.”

“No, Master.” Susana shook her head fervently.

Tristan’s gaze slipped past Susana for a moment. Cas met his gaze. She nodded at him.

“That settles it,” Tristan said. “If you don’t wish to use Dark Magic, you won’t. Obscurial or not, no power on this earth will compel you to use magic you do not wish to use. I swear it, Susana.”

Susana blinked. “Master…”

“I made a Vow to you, too, Susana,” Tristan reminded her. “And I plan to keep it.” He smiled slightly as he said, “Besides, you and I are creatures of habit, Susana. It’s up to Cas to roam free. She’s the free spirit here, and I’d like to keep it that way.”

Magdalene wondered, “What does that make me, then?”

“An uptight, pushy, overly flirty spirit,” Tristan replied at once.

Magdalene snorted. “Looking at me must be like looking in a mirror, Graves.”

Cas couldn’t help but quirk her lips up in a small smile.

Tristan seemed not to notice as he nodded at the group. “Very well. I shall see everyone tomorrow night at the Quidditch campsite.”

However, as everyone made to leave, Tristan came up behind Cas. At the doorway, he subtly leaned forward, gently brushed back her hair, and whispered in her ear, “I saw you laughing at me back there, Miss Carnerius. Care to explain yourself?”

Cas whipped around. Tristan ran right into her, but she didn’t budge. Instead, he stumbled back slightly.

“What is there to explain? You are all of the things that Magdalene said you were,” Cas said unapologetically. “You should acknowledge that, Tristan.”

Tristan stared down at Cas for a long beat. For a moment, his gaze seemed quite serious, but despite himself, he softened. “But if I say all of those things are true, you won’t believe it when I say I’m in love with you.”

Cas scoffed. “You denying those things doesn’t make your case any stronger, you know.”

“Ah, is that so?” Tristan reached out and gently touched Cas’ face, brushing her short, auburn hair away from her bright eyes. “Then, I’ll confess…”

Cas lifted her eyebrow and waited for him to go on.

Tristan finished, “... that I’m deeply, deeply in love with you.” A cheeky grin appeared on his handsome face.

Cas frowned. Grabbing his wrist, she took his hand away from her face. “Please. You just want to get the last word in, as always. When will you grow up?”

Tristan laughed. The sound was bright, but it was also gentle, as though he were laughing in defeat. “All right, Cas. You’ve got me. I haven’t grown up yet.”

As Tristan had laughed, a strand of his black hair had fallen forward. He reached up and brushed his hair back from his face. Still gazing at Cas, he murmured, “But someday, I will, and then, if it’s all right with you, I’ll be waiting for you.”

Cas gave Tristan a most skeptical look. “I never know what you’re talking about, Tristan,” she sighed.

Tristan gazed warmly at her. “Just think of it as me wanting the last word – always.”

* * * * * * * * * *

Rowan was sitting in Buckbeak’s room. Buckbeak had nestled up to him and was nipping at his fingers affectionately. Rowan stroked Buckbeak’s head. But as he did, he fell back softly against the wall. He stared out at the dim afternoon light coming in through the window.

It doesn’t feel right for me to be here, Rowan thought. I miss my creatures. Frank, Sil, Nula, Nick, Tia, Vi, Hamish, Roma…

Rowan sighed. His hand slipped from Buckbeak’s head to his neck, as he murmured aloud softly, “What am I doing here?”

Rowan felt the way he had when he had had to follow his father around in the wilderness for years on end, without ever stopping twice in the same place – he felt lost, adrift, and too far from a home he had never quite known.

“I’m lost, Buckbeak,” Rowan confessed. “I don’t want to be here anymore, but I’ve nowhere to go. I wish I could be like you and Frank and call the skies my home…”

* * * * * * * * * *

“Are you ready?”

You numbly looked up at Moody. You could barely see him past the fringe of your hood, which had pulled low over your face, to make sure it wouldn’t be pulled off of your head by the force of the Portkey and somehow reveal your fox ears.

“Lass.” Moody snapped his fingers in front of you. “I said, are you ready?”

You nodded. More than anything, you wanted to come up with an excuse to sit out tonight’s mission, but you remembered your mother’s words about needing to face life head-on.

“CONSTANT VIGILANCE!” Moody suddenly roared, trying to shock you into attention. But even that did not move you today.

“Wake the hell up, girl,” Moody grunted, annoyed that you hadn’t reacted to his trademark shout. He jerked his hand at a plain-looking bucket, which you understood to be the Portkey for tonight. “Hurry and put your hand here.”

You reached out and grasped the bucket.

“You, too,” Moody remarked, speaking to someone who was standing quietly in the corner of the room.

Someone stepped up on the other side of the bucket. It was only when the hand reached out and you recognized the long, graceful fingers and the scars criss-crossing over them, as well as the frayed and patchy sleeves around his wrists, that you realized Remus was your guard duty partner for the next few hours.

Your heart jolted painfully, but you kept your eyes down.

“All right, then,” Moody said gruffly. “Countdown. Five, four, three, two, one…”

The bucket glowed a bright blue – and then, whoosh, you and Remus were off, towards the plains where the Lovegoods’ residence was located.

* * * * * * * * * *

It was a simple mission, actually, as all you and Remus had to do was pick a sheltered spot among the grassy plains and keep an eye on the Lovegood residence, which was quite easy to make out, as it looked like a gigantic chess rook. Or rather, it would have been a simple mission, if you weren’t fighting against the endless tumult of emotions welling up inside of you.

Mercy. Give me mercy, you begged to your own heart. But no such mercy came.

* * * * * * * * * *

A hand clapped Rowan’s shoulder. “Not coming with us tonight?”

Rowan, who was now standing in the living room, and had been speaking with Magdalene, now turned to see Tristan standing behind him.

“No,” Rowan replied.

Tristan shook his head at Rowan. “Still on the fence about this all? You’re a bigger worrywart than I thought.”

Rowan sighed. “I’m the worrywart? How about you stop worrying about me, Graves? You’d best focus on your job now. From what Mag have told me, it could be a hell of a firestorm if that Obscurial really does show up.”

Tristan nodded sagely. “I know, Rowan.” He paused before he remarked, “Thanks for worrying about me.”

Rowan frowned. “What’s gotten into you?”

“Nothing. Just wanted to see how you would react if I said that to you.” Tristan chuckled, as he observed, “You look disgusted.”

Standing across from Rowan, Cas called warningly, “Tristan, Rowan’s right. You have to have your head on straight for tonight. This is no time to play around.”

“All right, Cas,” Tristan replied. “I’ll be serious from now on.” He looked over the team before nodding firmly. “Let’s go.”

* * * * * * * * * *

A long hour passed, with neither you nor Remus speaking.

It was a strange, windy world here, with birds diving in the wide open sky. The wind whistled merrily through the long, swaying reeds that covered the hills here. The air was so distinctly fresh that one would expect to see the ocean nearby, just beyond the hills, but there was no sea here.

Tucked away amidst this awesome landscape, there were two small, solitary figures sitting side-by-side. To a passerby, it would appear as if there were no relation between them, except that they were sitting next to each other.

You closed your eyes and prayed for that objective vision to become truth before the ugly emotions could eat you alive and spit you out as someone you never wanted to be.

Remus kept glancing at you worriedly, for you were keeping your cloak pulled tightly around you and your head down. Besides that, when the Portkey had swished you both off into the traveling portal, Remus had caught a glimpse of your face. You looked exhausted and there was no light in your eyes. It confirmed what he had thought for a while now: that you weren’t well. It didn’t seem to be a simple illness, either, because it wasn’t just that you seemed physically fatigued; rather, it was if your inner flame had gone out.

Meanwhile, as you sat near Remus, you could feel his gentle energy and you sensed the way he kept looking at you worriedly - and for the first time in your life, you cursed him for him.

Why does he still have to be so caring? you thought bitterly. I wish he’d just act indifferent to me.

If only Remus didn’t still feel like the Remus you’d once fallen in love with, you wouldn’t feel so hurt and betrayed right now. But he still was that man. It was killing you to sit here next to him. You felt the jagged, painful tear in your heart widen, and the hole in your soul grew correspondingly.

Watch out, the Fox whispered desperately to you. You have to put away your feelings for this man. He is literally killing you.

You clenched your hands into fists, unconsciously gripping fistfuls of the long reeds around you. You truly tried your best. You tried not to engage with him. You tried to bite down your feelings. You kept your head down, too, never chancing even the merest glance at Remus.

* * * * * * * * * *

Around the same time that you and Remus were whisked off to the Lovegood residence by Portkey, Tristan (along with Cas, Susana, and Magdalene) appeared at the Quidditch match site. His vivid green eyes swept the scene, quickly and carefully analyzing the people before him.

A small, silver Patronus, all but invisible, quickly swept before his eyes.

A lark Patronus – Magdalene, Tristan recognized. She’s sending the all-clear. Good. So, Magdalene will be taking off, heading back to MCUSA.

Tristan closed his eyes. It took him a minute to feel what he was searching for, but he did - that slight trembling of the silver lock necklace on his chest. He was feeling, in a subdued form, the Obscurial’s energy, calling out to Susana.

Inside of his cape, Tristan gripped the end of his wand tightly. All quiet for now, but I sense that the time is approaching.

* * * * * * * * * *

Three more hours had ticked by. Remus checked his pocketwatch and announced, “We should head back to the Portkey. It’s nearly time for it to take off.”

You got up and silently followed Remus.

* * * * * * * * * *

You and Remus were nearly at the PortKey, when the mistake happened - You naturally looked up to see where the PortKey was, and Remus looked back at the exact same time. His tired, hazel eyes caught yours. In the strange, ambient golden light of the sunlight, you saw in his eyes how weary he was - of the world, and of himself.

And for the first time, you truly understood why that was so.

You felt your heart splinter into several pieces. Oh, Remus…

The Fox tried to call out to you, to warn you, but there were so many thoughts running through your head that you didn’t even hear her voice.

You had as many different thoughts as the many pieces your heart had splintered into:

So many years, you kept me in the dark. Now I finally know why.

That werewolf in the Forbidden Forest - Was that you?

No wonder I could never close the gap between us.

Thank you for saving my family.

You must have been so lonely, all that time.

It wasn’t Sirius after all, then.

When were you bitten? Why were you bitten?

I still miss you.

I had no right to know, but if you loved me, why couldn’t you tell me?

Are you in love with Tonks now?

You must be so tired, Remus. Who takes care of you now?

I’m sorry you felt that you couldn’t tell me.

You must be so tired, Remus. Who takes care of you now?

All these years, and you never told me.

You never told me. Why didn’t you tell me?

But in fact, you could guess why he didn’t tell you, at least a little, because of your own experience with the Nine-Tailed Fox. It was embarrassing and frightening to reveal that you were harboring a creature inside of you because you felt that you might be seen as less than human.

However, even if you understood this, it still hurt you so deeply that Remus never told you.

I think, all along, I was waiting for you to tell me – and that would be the same as giving me permission to love all of you. But you never gave me that opportunity. It’s like you never trusted me to love you til’ the end and that’s what hurts most of all.

A pained whisper left your mouth without your permission: “You’re so cruel.”

Remus turned around. “What?”

“I can’t believe you…”

A strong wind blew just then, and a chilling rustle ran through the grassy hillside. It was almost beautiful.

“You can’t believe me? About what?”

“No wonder you always kept your distance. No wonder you never let me in. No wonder…”

Uncertain of what you were trying to say, Remus replied in a soft rush of words, “What are you talking about? Are you unwell? If you’re cold, we can find a more sheltered spot. I can come earlier and find a better place for you next time.”

You didn’t say anything – not because you meant to be silent, but because you were gathering the courage and fighting past the hurt to say what had to be said, at long last…

Just then, Remus’ magical pocketwatch let out a soft chime. Remus reached over and grabbed onto the bucket. He looked over his shoulder at you and called, “Come on! The Portkey will activate soon. We don’t want to get left behind.”

You lifted your head. A cold tear streaked down your face as you said numbly, “Why didn’t you tell me?”

Exasperated and confused, Remus said, “What are you - ?”

“You told Sirius and Tonks and even my own mother, but you never told me…”

Remus’ grip on the bucket suddenly became vice-like and he felt a heavy stone drop in his stomach. A sense of overwhelming fear and guilt started to consume him, as he finally began to realize what you were getting at.

Then, you voiced aloud those awful words: “… That you’re a werewolf.”

Remus breathed out.

You stared at him with hurt, unblinking eyes. Your gaze was saying, How could you not tell me?

Remus’ mind was spinning. He felt like throwing up. He couldn’t speak, couldn’t move, couldn’t think –

Whoosh!

Before he could respond, Remus was whisked off by the Portkey, which had glowed blue and activated without either of you realizing it.

* * * * * * * * * *

Rowan, Tonks, and Sirius were all sitting in kitchen, waiting for you and Remus to appear.

Just then, a haze of blue light appeared in the middle of the kitchen. All three backed away, expecting you and Remus to come spinning into the kitchen.

To Rowan’s horror, however, only Remus came spinning into view. Shit, I knew something was off, Rowan thought at once. I’ve been feeling anxious all day. At first I thought it was just because of our argument last night and because I missed my creatures and then I thought maybe it was because I was worried for Tristan, Cas, Susana, and Mag – but maybe it was a foreboding of this mission all along…

As soon as Remus appeared, he sprinted for the door, to head outside.

However, Rowan, who was far bigger in stature, managed to grab Remus. “Where is she?!”

Remus pushed Rowan’s hand off of his shoulder and made for the door again. As he did, Remus shouted, “I’ve got to get back to her!”

Rowan dashed forward and grabbed Remus by the collar. “Tell me where she is!”

“Oi!” Sirius shouted. “Let go of Remus!”

“Tell me where she is, and I will!” Rowan yelled. Rowan’s grip tightened on Remus’ collar as Rowan all but lifted Remus off the ground.

“She’s back where – where the Portkey was, on Topper’s Hill,” Remus choked out, struggling against Rowan.

Rowan immediately let Remus go, and he ran out of the house.

“No, wait!” Remus yelled. “It’s – It’s got to be me! I’ve got to speak with her!”

Remus made to chase after Rowan, but Sirius grabbed Remus and yanked him back.

“Remus! Come to your senses!” Sirius barked out . “You’re not yourself!”

“No, Sirius, you don’t understand – I hurt her, I hurt her, I hurt her,” Remus protested, pushing Sirius away. “I have to see her, now!”

But Sirius managed to get a hold on Remus again and he pulled Remus further back into the house. “I’m not letting you go after anyone until you’ve calmed down!”

Tonks stepped forward. She was holding a Calming Draught, which she’d managed to find in the kitchen. “Sirius is right,” she said. “Rowan will take care of her. And you need to calm down.”

She reached over and put her hand on Remus’ shoulder.

Remus slumped over. He closed his eyes. “I didn’t mean it to come to this. Not in a million years did I mean to hurt her like this.”

I would have sold my soul to keep her from ever finding out. She was the one person whom I wanted a normal relationship with. To know that her love wasn’t disguised disgust, to know that her kindness wasn’t charity, to know that her anger wasn’t prejudice… At all costs, I wanted her to be her and me to be me… Even if she hated me, at least she saw me as human. But now… But now… But now that relationship is gone forever, and all I’ve done is betray her for these long, already tormented years…

“Remus, what happened?” Tonks asked, worried at seeing him so distraught.

Remus had to swallow several times before he managed to croak out, “She – She found out. She knows. She knows what I am.”

Sirius blew out a long breath. Then, he said honestly, “Well, I don’t see how you could have kept her from knowing for much longer, Rem.”

Remus just shook his head.

Sirius looked at Remus with immense sympathy. But at the same time, Sirius felt that it was his duty to tell Remus the truth, which was that: “She has a right to know, Remus. She always did.”

Tonks’ brow furrowed. “You mean, she didn’t know, all this time?”

Remus hung his head as he confessed, “No. I kept it a secret from her.”

Tonks became confused. As she considered you a normal Order member, she couldn’t understand why only you didn’t know about Remus’ condition when everybody else in the Order was well aware. “Well, it can’t be entirely your fault, Remus,” Tonks said comfortingly. “I mean, she seems quite intelligent, but she’s – er – a bit slow if she didn’t catch on after all of this time. All the Order members know already, after all. If she’s the only one who missed it, I hardly think that’s your fault.”

“She did catch on. She was one of the first to catch on, other than James, Sirius, and Peter,” Remus said quietly. “But she let me have my secret, because she knew I felt uncomfortable telling her. She let me have my space, even though she knew something was strange.”

Remus remembered your letter: the letter you had written him after the two of you had first made love and Remus had left early the morning after out of fear and shame. Remus could still see your handwriting floating before his eyes, spelling out: “I just feel sad, because you must feel that you can’t trust me as completely as I trust you. I don’t want to pressure you. I’m not writing to tell you that you have to tell me what’s going on with you or anything. But I promise that I will work really, really hard to earn your trust and to be someone reliable enough that you feel you can tell me your deepest troubles…”

“Oh, God,” Remus choked out. “What have I done?” He stumbled backwards.

Surprised, Tonks caught him and helped him into a chair. “Remus,” she said, “it’s going to be okay.”

“It wasn’t supposed to come to this,” Remus murmured, putting his head in his hands. “All the many, nonsensical lies I told her – lies that she knew were lies - were to keep her from this pain. Lying to her over and over again, sending her away; what was it all for if not to avoid this?”

Sirius sat down beside Remus. In truth, he thought that Tonks was actually closer to the truth – that it was a near miracle that it had taken you this long to figure out that Remus was a werewolf. But Sirius recognized that it was shocking for Remus because he had so valued his connection with you, his ‘purely human’ connection, as he called it. Now, that connection was gone – in more ways than one. Because not only did you know the truth now, but it was Rowan who had gone after you to comfort you, not Remus. Sirius put his hand on Remus’ shoulder. He murmured quietly, “Sorry, Moons.”

* * * * * * * * * *

Rowan found you on Topper’s Hill.

You had stared at the spot where Remus had disappeared, then meandered thoughtlessly for a while, and then finally curled up into a ball in the middle of the long, swaying grass.

You didn’t think you were crying, but apparently you were, for when Rowan found you, he wiped your face and said reassuringly, “Sweetheart. I’m here. I’m right here.”

Rowan picked you up.

“I’m – I’m fine,” you hiccupped out. “You can put me down.”

Rowan frowned. Even though you were saying that you were fine, your gaze was unfocused and your cheeks were still shiny and bloated with tears.

“I’m going to take you home,” Rowan said firmly.

You took a deep breath. Then, burying your face in Rowan’s chest, you murmured, “Okay.”

Rowan walked a little ways back before he Apparated, while holding you tightly in his arms, where you were warm and safe. Warm and safe, and far away from the Quidditch campsite where terrible things were about to happen…

* * * * * * * * * *

The Quidditch match was over. Everyone was heading back to the campsite, where celebratory parties quickly erupted everywhere.

Through the smoking sparks of fireworks, Tristan saw Cas standing watch at the perimeter. He started to step towards her when suddenly, a yell sounded out.

Tristan stopped and abruptly turned around, wondering if that yell was simply a happy declaration of the parties, or something more sinister.

His question was quickly answered as a far more piercing scream suddenly rang out from the same direction.

There was a volley of shouts, and Tristan could hear several people yelling “Protego!”

Tristan leapt forward, but as he did, he suddenly felt the silver lock on his chest sear up until it was painfully hot.

Tristan groaned. His hand flew to his chest and he instinctively made to yank the necklace off. But then, he stopped himself as he realized that doing so would break the restraints on Susana’s magic.

No, I can’t do that, Tristan thought, frustrated. Else the Obscurial might force her to use Dark Magic, and I promised her that I would never let that happen.

Just then, through the smoke of battle and fireworks and through the crowd of people, many of whom were beginning to shout and rush away, Tristan spotted Susana. Unlike everyone else, Susana was walking towards the screams and instead of running, she was taking slow, deliberate steps.

Oh, no, that must be the Obscurial calling to her! Tristan recognized.

“Susana!” Tristan called, but she didn’t seem to hear him.

“Susana! Stop!” Tristan yelled again, more desperately this time, but Susana kept going, walking forward as though in a trance.

Tristan rushed forward. However, the crowd was now fully swarming in the other direction and Tristan was repeatedly shoved backwards. Still, Tristan doggedly made his way through.

Finally, when Tristan was able to stumble out of the end of the running crowd, he saw before him a dementor, from which a dark, swirling shadow was pouring forth. And – Tristan’s mouth dropped open – for standing before that dementor was Susana, as herself. Her elderly lady disguise had entirely melted away. She stood there, crackling all over with intense, aggressive energy. Her harsh, sharp features had been contorted into a look of intense concentration. Her eyes had taken on a crimson hue. She was gripping her wand so tightly that her fingernails were digging into her palm. Her cloak was beginning to swirl around her, affected by the waves of dark energy rippling out from her soul and body. She lifted her wand.

“NO!” With a roar, Tristan lifted his own wand. “Expelliarmus!”

Susana’s wand flew out of her grasp.

Surprised, Susana turned around. The red hue faded from her eyes slightly. “Master!”

Tristan ran forward. He pushed Susana behind him and turned and faced the Obscurial. Brandishing his wand at the dark mass of writhing energy, Tristan shouted, “You cannot force Dark Magic out of her! She’s her own! And I’ve sworn to protect her!”

Terrible screams erupted from the writhing mass of darkness. “SHE IS A GRINDELWALD! A GRINDELWALD! SHE HAS A DEBT TO PAY! IT’S BECAUSE OF HER THAT WE ARE WHAT WE ARE! SHE MADE US! WE SUFFER BECAUSE OF HER! RIP - KILL - CURSE HER! CURSE HER BLOODLINE!”

Susana groaned, as the Obscurial tried to play tricks on her mind, calling to her and using her guilt to trick her into being swallowed up by it. “COME TO US! IF YOU FEEL ANY GUILT FOR WHAT YOUR BLOODLINE HAS DONE, MAKE IT RIGHT BY FEEDING US. FOR ALL OF THE RAGE WE FEEL, ALL OF THE PAIN WE FEEL IS BECAUSE OF YOU! YOU AND DUMBLEDORE!”

Tristan couldn’t turn around to Susana because the Obscurial was swooping this way and that, trying to get past him to Susana. But Susana, hypnotized by the Obscurial, was trying to get to the Obscurial too. Before long, Susana, in her possessed state, had decided that Tristan could not simply be passed by and therefore needed to be dealt with, so that she could get to Obscurial. Susana’s hands crept up and around Tristan’s neck.

“M-Master…” The part of her mind that was still hers made Susan cry out a feeble warning to her beloved Master, even as her hands squeezed at his neck.

“Ugh!” Tristan choked. “S-Susana, n-no!”

“Master, I’m s-sorry,” Susana whispered desperately. She tried to yank her hands away, but then they came right back.

“Susana! Wake up!” Tristan called desperately. While keeping his wand directed at the Obscurial, he reached up with his other hand to grab Susana’s hands and prevent her from choking him again.

Unfortunately, there was yet another complication as several of the braver spectators among the Quidditch crowd had begun to crowd around the scene to watch what was happening.

YESSSS, the Obscurial hissed victoriously, LET THEM SEE WHAT YOU REALLY ARE – A GRINDELWALD; A MURDEROUS, VIOLENT GRINDELWALD!

Susana’s hands tightened, slipping past Tristan’s hand and onto his neck.

“N-No, S-Susana!” Tristan gasped. “This i-isn’t you!”

Meanwhile, Cas was doing her utmost to corral everyone and have them leave, but it was becoming difficult as more and more people had come back to watch Tristan. “Everyone, back! By Order of MCUSA and the Ministry – get back!” she shouted urgently. “It’s not safe, please!” As she dashed about, shoving people back, she threw a furious look over her shoulder to glance at Tristan and Susana. It was hard to tell through the whirlwind of darkness that was the Obscurial whether Susana was supporting Tristan or fighting against him, but Cas feared the worst. She, and she alone, knew how much Susana had been fighting against the Obscurial’s mental possession over the last few days, to the point where Susana had been so afraid to fall asleep that when she did sleep, she slept holding hands with Cas, so that Cas would wake if Susana lost the battle in her sleep and made to go after Tristan in a tranced state.

The Obscurial recognized its favorable situation, what with the surging crowd. Feeding off of the crowd’s fearful and hyper energy, the Obscurial made its move. “IF YOU WILL NOT COME TO ME, LET US BOTH GO TOWARDS WHAT WE CRAVE - BLOODSHED. USE MAGIC AGAINST ME - I DARE YOU, IT WILL ONLY SERVE TO MAKE ME STRONGER! MAY THE GRINDELWALD NAME EVER BE CURSED IN HISTORY!” With a fearsome scream, the Obscurial erupted.

People began to scream when they saw long, horrific tendrils of nightmare black reaching out at their necks and eyes at blinding speed. A young child was separated from her mother. The mother cried out and ran forward, to get to her child.

“Get back! Get back!” Cas screamed, but it was too late. Cas threw herself forward, to shield the mother and child as they ran to each other. A second later, Cas felt a vicious pain as a dark limb stabbed through her arm. She screamed in pain.

In that moment, Cas suddenly felt as though she had entered a hellish dream. Red and black streaks flashed violently before her eyes.

But then, amidst that chaotic darkness, Cas heard a familiar voice say, in a strangely calm manner, “So, this is what fate is. I know you well, for my father taught me to recognize you. And I become a master of fate by accepting you. Fine, then.”

A tall, dark figure, draped in a signature black cloak, stepped forward. “I’m not afraid of you anymore. After all these years after Mother and Father have passed, it’s about time I… grow up now.”

Abandoning his wand, the figure opened his arms and took the brunt of the Obscurial’s attack all by himself. At that moment, a spiraling jet of dark energy punctured the man’s chest. The silver lock charm exploded and the man’s chest was brutalized heavily at the same time.

Cas screamed, “NO!”

The caped figure staggered back – and yet another figure caught him. This time, the figure was that of a woman’s, glowing with dazzling white energy.

“I also made a vow,” the second figure seethed. “I will never use forbidden Magic. But that doesn’t mean that I can’t defeat you. Angelicus Scourgis!”

A blast of blinding white fire erupted from the end of her wand and spiraled around the writhing, dark mass.

A terrifying scream rang out. “AHHHHHHH! CURSE YOU! CURSE YOU TO THE DEEPEST DEPTHS OF HELL! WHAT DID WE DO WRONG? WHAT DID WE EVER DO WRONG? WE WERE BORN BECAUSE OF THE MISERY YOU INFLICTED ONTO US! WHY SHOULD WE DIE?”

The dark mass of energy swirled about even more fervently, but it was growing smaller and smaller, being corralled by the great lasso of white flame.

Finally, there was only a sphere of white, glowing flame in the air. The figure slashed her wand in the air - and the sphere disappeared.

* * * * * * * * * *

While Susana had been fighting the Obscurial, Cas had been forced back by the high-velocity winds that had been spinning outwards, pushing everything back from the eye of the battle. Now, though, the storm seemed to have quieted, and Susana and Tristan were mere figures in the cloud of ash and smoke before her.

Cas came forward as quickly as she could and she squinted before her, trying to make out the scene before her. As the cloud cleared, Cas could see them better. Like a shipwreck in an ocean of mist, they slowly appeared as one structure, rising out of the fog.

Susana was standing tall. She was staring up into the air, where the sphere had just disappeared. Her eyes were no longer crimson, but tears were streaking down her face. Slumped over her shoulder was Tristan, whose eyes were closed and whose chest bore a huge puncture wound. His wand had fallen to the ground, as had the pocketwatch he had carried around all through his days.

Cas blinked furiously a few times before she sank to the ground. She stared in disbelief at the sight before her.

“Then, I’ll confess that I’m deeply, deeply in love with you.”

“Please. You just want to get the last word in, as always. When will you grow up?”

“All right, Cas. You’ve got me. I haven’t grown up yet. But someday, I will, and then, if it’s all right with you, I’ll be waiting for you.”

“I never know what you’re talking about, Tristan.”

“Just think of it as me wanting the last word – always.”

The last word? Cas breathed out heavily as she realized what Tristan had meant, what he had been preparing her for. She shut her eyes tightly. I hate you. I hate you so much. You’ve always made me wait. You made me wait when we started out as mission partners and you were slower than me at Tracking, but you still wanted to tag along and I had to wait for all the damn time. You made me wait because you were afraid Susana would hurt me, but you wanted to protect her. You made me wait because you thought everyone would attribute my success to you if they found out that you loved me. You made me wait because you thought the Obscurial within your soul would overwhelm you and attack me. You made me wait because you thought that pocketwatch of yours would decide your death any day now – and you were right. But now you’re going to make me wait until my whole life has passed to love you?

And you know I will. You know I will, you bastard. I hate you so much, Tristan Graves. I hate that you tell me you love me all the time and I hate that you’re sincere about it. I hate that you know I love you back and I hate that you’re okay with me not saying that I’m in love with you. I hate that you’re wrapped up in old magic and that you shoulder that responsibility so well, even when it takes so much of your own life away from you. I hate that you found a way to make peace with and love your parents, even though they’ve been gone most of your life. I hate that you always brag about me to everyone else, saying how good I am at Tracking, when you were the one who helped me through all of the Auror trials other than Tracking. I hate that you try to act like you’re fine when you have the weight of the world on your shoulders. I hate that you knew you were going to sacrifice yourself and you didn’t even give me a chance to save you, just prepared my heart for it – as if you could prepare me for being apart from you. Tristan… Tristan! Come back, please. I waited so patiently for you. I waited until we could properly be together to tell you that I love you so much, so very, very much.

“Cas…” Susana knelt down before Cas and grasped her gently by the shoulders to pull her up. Susana had already laid Tristan down and covered his body with her own cape.

Meanwhile, the crowd around them was murmuring:

“Isn’t that a Grindelwald?”

“Yeah, that’s Grindelwald’s daughter! I recognize her from the old papers!”

“But didn’t she just save us from that Obscurial?”

“So – what? Are you saying she’s not evil?”

“I don’t know. She’s a Grindelwald. She must be.”

“But she saved us all. We saw it with our own eyes. She can’t be all bad.”

Susana’s voice shook, as she said, in as small a voice as Cas had ever heard her speak in, “C-Cas, I-I r-really want to g-get out of here. Please.”

Cas finally looked up, only to see Susana staring down at her hand. Cas followed her gaze and she saw a broken ring in Susan’s hand. It was the ring that had bound her to Tristan, the ring that had kept Tristan’s protective magic working over her at all times, by disguising her true appearance and by keeping a protective shield around her that both prevented her Dark Magic energy from spilling out and kept others from detecting it. As Susana stared down at the ring, which had split in half, she was trembling all over, and she had tears streaking down her face.

“Oh, Sue,” Cas whispered in a broken voice.

“I w-want to go h-home,” Susana murmured again. “I don’t – Master’s not - ”

Cas nodded, understanding Susana at once. “Okay. Let’s do that. I just – I want to say good-bye first.”

Susana took Cas’ hand and the two of them walked over to Tristan’s body.

Cas tried to remain silent, but her sobs wracked her whole body as she stood before Tristan’s body. She knelt down and for a moment, she pulled the cape back, just enough to see Tristan’s face. There he lay, Tristan Graves. Ironically, he looked as handsome as ever, even though he was no longer of this world. But Cas didn’t care. She never had. The things that she loved about him - his sharp and intelligent gaze, that small smirk that quirked up on his lips whenever he found something funny, the quick-witted retorts that fell from his lips no matter what kind of conversation you were having, and the dignified manner with which he moved about the world - those were gone forever. With a shaking hand, Cas touched Tristan’s cheek. All right. So you’ve grown up. I get it now. And you’ll be waiting for me, just like you said you would, right? She gently pulled the cape back up. Right.

Cas stood up. As she did, she picked up Tristan’s fallen wand and pocketwatch.

Once on her feet, Cas spotted a group of Ministry Healers and Aurors parting the crowd. Clearly, they were on their way over. Cas knew that they would take care of Tristan’s body properly and alert everyone who needed to be alerted.

Cas reached her hand out to the side. Susana grasped her hand tightly.

“Let’s get out of here,” Cas murmured. “But let’s lift our heads, Susana. Tristan would want us to be – to be proud of him.”

Susana bravely lifted her face to the heavens above. Her face was grimy with ash and dirt, except for the clear trails of tears running down her cheeks.

For a moment, Cas numbly stared out at the crowd of people who were whispering and pointing at them, and she wondered if they would ever come to appreciate what they had really seen – the bravery of both Tristan Graves and Susana Grindelwald.

No, I don’t suppose they ever really will know, she thought. Cas closed her eyes – and she and Susana Disapparated before the Healers and Aurors could reach them.

Tagged Users: @areomalfoy @saltstacks

#foxtail and wolfsbane #harry potter imagine #harry potter smut #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin #rowan scamander #rowan scamander x reader #marauders #marauders era #fanfic #fanfiction #tristan graves

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ell0ra-br3kk3r-writes · 2 years

Text

Her Diary

ch.one

pairing: sirius black x evelyn thomas (oc)

a/n: bold is diary entries

September 1, 1977

First day back at Hogwarts. It’s my sixth year, and you know what? I have a great feeling about this year! I mean, if I ignore the fact that I have O.W.Ls at the end of the year, then this year will be great! All my friends are here, and I decided that I’m going to make a striving effort to have the best year yet. It’s totally not like I say this at the start of every year… Anyway, a girl can hope, right?

It’s currently dark out and I probably should be in my dorm right now, but I figured a quick trip to the astronomy tower wouldn’t hurt anyone. It’s so beautiful. The stars are so bright tonight and the cool breeze from the lake… I’ve missed this place.

I was starting to think about next year. I know what you’re going to say. I think way too far ahead, all the time. But hear me out this time. Next year is my last year. And I started thinking about what I might feel when saying goodbye to the school. Of course I would never know exactly how I feel until I am in that moment. But I figured that it was safe to say that it would be a hard farewell. I just don’t think I’m ready for that heartbreaking goodbye just yet. At least I have a year, but still… I would be saying goodbye to my childhood, my friends, my teachers (even the ones I hate). I would be saying goodbye to everything I’ve known, and I just -

“What in Merlin’s name are you doing up here by yourself?”

She looked up with side eyes and was met with the mischievous grin that belonged to none other than James Potter himself. Remus chuckled and sat down beside me, pulling out a book of his own. Sirius came up next to her and tried to sneak a peek at the inked journal pages. She noticed quickly and snapped it shut instantly. “No peeking.”

He rolled his eyes but smiled anyway. “How was your first day back? We didn’t see you in the Great Hall.”

She felt a smirk tug at her lips, “You missed me, Black?”

“In your dreams, Thomas. But really, where were you?”

“I was by the Black Lake for a while, then I went to the kitchens and got some food, and now I’m here.”

He hummed and leaned back against the cold brick wall behind the other two, watching James as he leaned against the railing.

No other words were exchanged as we all stayed there with only the sound of the wind whistling as it blew through the tight corridor of the astronomy tower. She sighed and pulled her jacket tighter around herself. “I’ll be heading back now. We’ll catch up in the morning. Good night.”

They mumbled their “Good nights” as they stayed in their places. She smiled to herself as she walked down the stairs, pressing herself against the walls as she walked back to her dorm.

September 1. 1971

I did it! I made it to hogwarts! I got sorted into Gryffindor, and I already made friends! There’s Remus, James… and I forgot the other one’s name. I’ll ask him tomorrow. Oh! And I met a girl named Lily. I'm sharing a dorm with her along with two other girls… I forgot their names too. Anyway, it’s getting late and I still need to write to mum and dad.”

November 15. 1971

Sirius Black. That was his name. That boy is the most frustrating thing to ever walk this earth. How can someone be so careless? Sure he’s really cute! Black curly hair, and gray eyes. I’ve never seen eyes that color, it’s so pretty! But he’s so annoying! So I’m making a promise to myself. I will never ever fall for Sirius Black.

A chuckle fell from her lips as she read her old diary entries. Naive. But she couldn’t blame her younger self, she was young. Those times feel so far away now. The simplicity of being eleven years… You will never be able to get those years back. Quite a bizarre thought, huh?

A sharp knocking on the door startled her out of her thoughts. “Evelyn Thomas! I swear, if you don’t get out of there this instant I will break this door down myself!”

“Cool down, Lily! I’m done!” Unlocking the door, she laughed as the feisty red-head shot her a sharp glare.

“You take too long in the bathroom, Eva! I still need to brush my teeth and do my hair!”

“Alright alright, my little firecracker! The bathroom is all yours.” She quickly tossed her old leather bound journal onto her bed, “I’ll see you at the Great Hall!”

“Ah! The queen of Gryffindor herself, graces us with her presence!”

“Shut it.” She rolled her eyes as she sat down next to Remus. “Tell your friends to shut it.”

“I’ve been trying for the last five years… It’s no use.”

Evelyn chuckled, quickly getting a slice of toast and pouring herself a glass of orange juice. Her eyes rolled again on their own accord as Sirius cleared his throat. “So how was your summer, Thomas?”

She shrugged, “It was alright. We went to America, and my father made sure my brother came along. And you know how that went? It went up in flames within the first two days. Chase wanted to go and sight see by himself but father was set on having this summer be for family bonding.”

James laughed, “I can’t imagine how that went.”

“Yeah… Well, let’s just say that when we were seeing some lake, father fell in, mother was shreking her head off, Chase wasn’t paying attention ‘cause he saw some girl, and I was laughing my head off. I’d say that summarizes my whole summer.”

Remus tried to hide his laughter as he spoke. “Your family sure is something else, Eva.”

“Well, we aren’t as perfect as the world makes us out to be. That’s for sure.”

#sirius black #sirius black x reader #sirius black x evelyn thomas #sirius black x oc #harry potter #harry potter x reader #harry potter x oc #harry potter series #ellora.writes

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sanctificetur · 2 years

Text

plotting board.

jess x harry x heath.

#haruto ic. | shades of green ++ parramatta park.

jess walks into montmermil town square with her direwolf, eponine. tagged (gently woven with a thin transparent tangile string -- in which the string holds (not the actual ear) red tag, eponine. she wears her evenstar necklace united with purple necklace -- morning evenstar -- united lights guiding her in her life -- faith coming back to her that they will meet, and better sleep in long run -- less wandering of feeling eternally torn between consciousness and sleep, longing for salvation. there are white clouds of steamed rice currently cooking in deep reserve -- white feathers forming into unified solitude -- in fuzzy microcomputer (steamed cooker) horizon of twenty degrees sunny (check remaining dfort points of francis plotting). yet clouds not static in living high above the mountainous buildings -- above and below -- it sprinkles down like sakura snow like the scene in edwqard scissorhands with that girl dancing in snow/ same actress as joyce in stranger things : past and present uniting. she balked in the middle of the drawbridge, shook the rain off, and howled at the portcullis. its the sound of the river she fears. beasts know to avoid the river in flood. jess is impatient yet also understanding of eponine. there is a horse statue within the canopy of trees, called Glendower. there is only one horse eye side, looks white cloud blinded. spouting out water through shadowed crevices not confined to mouth or the foundation base it’s physically encased in. horse is speaking in thought and voice, which water represents. (emerson the horse ref: immediate twitter hearted) water of life is also elemented -- sprinkled like snow of the overall park, not just fountain or river -- desert water : dark and light pink uniting in difference and similarity but also gaarra/hinata -- red and purple. jay bird landing on flower or maybe the horse statue. exploring healthy re-development relation of hinata x neji) mention the candle flowers growing in park -- white pear and blossom smelling like sorbelene cream, tiny flowers : white petal, yellow centre, the green grass candle flower (sharp tang overwhelm if sniff too closely), and the one we have iin apartment bathroom now next to me for immediate reference : pink coconut and watermelon : light pink ; yet a darker shade than my pink jacket. ( i need to rename the flowers, because candle names describe the smell exactly! ) one flower called moonshine, another called byakugan (might change it a little so not too obvious and flower maybe elementing other aspects too).

watch internship portfolio video ++ illuminarte festival video again in new light. refer to the photos im currently staring at too. and aligned dash pictures. tie haruto ic of countryside ++ francis city parra drabble / or could be the remainder of dot points of francis planning board = this parra park drawbridge photo.

oc base would be the bios, mainly the long ass cassian one which i weaved other charas

internship.

harrison pontmercy - joe cole. heath pontmercy ; brother to harrison - james mcavoy. how relate ot marius? could be twin (ellai and nitid) elements of marius’ confused clarity!! jess thenardier - jessie mei li ++ ayami nakajo united varies in scene - as jess is not static only one fandom (uh how could this then rel to cassian?? maybe elements of cassian)

les miserables manga ++ peaky blinders unification bigger picture

internship portfolio video ref - WP.

catapult : jack savoretti.

refer back to thomas kinkade painting - concentrate on one painting as base setting - go back to select one : i think best to set it at hunter valley, gazebo, goosewing.

jesse pinkman fan edits / actual clip of him and walter talking / jesse x walter fmv.

fairfax foxes ref -- might look at heath’s fb album for photo timeline tagged photos -- refers more fantastically to the fox nikolai - in grisha books, fmv, *the story of the fox in language of thorns (pp. 50 - 78)

nikolai in beast form (could be the horse coming to life) astral project hurrying past me ; embarrassed of his nicheo’vya self ; yet also battling mind and body of wanting to scratch out microchip nestled in him - he sense something wrong digging into his subconscious. horse history: spell that made horse turn into statue. welsh king glendower. darkness of life shadowing horse into statue. yet statue is thawing. sudden movements ++ crash down relentlessly like when i talking on zoom and phone fall down on end of call. represents rose mirror falling down. nin o chithaeglir lasto beth daer. rimmo nin bruinen dan in ulaer. also refer queenstown for base foundation structure ref : peter hollens arwen song. horse + the building represents the thing i propped up the phone on : placed next to computer/

trees with bare branches nestled in leaves whistling in the wind -- shadowing the light in swaying sync to the wind. suddenly! eighteen degrees clear. what would they do in park other than talk? not limited to only one meeting so not too much stress. because they do not have to go into explanatory overload -- because i already endured it beyond words -- my explanatory overload of already : i see what i can make use of. so they go to yum cha like restaurant parra phoenix where jess orders the gibbous moon dumpling ( picture on phone + staff) saved in library cabinet. and also bigger picture picnic! we eat parra phoenix stuff in picnic laying out blanket like amy x rory x doctor united as one of vincent van gogh. of the suburban landscape. even though need to be careful because ants crawl on blanket. maybe table gazebo shelter with blue ceiling stained glass transparent to allow natural weather to pierce through like that song by years and years : multi people united video of breathe. urban table in country park. (SECOND DRABBLE)

aspects of illuminarte festival maybe like shining yellow flower crown fairy lights illuminating in decoration like small bursts of lantern in the darkening night

photo of harrison in the park with family : check his album

bonfire heart - james blunt ref. uhh i have imagined hanging out with them again in my mind some time ago -- when i read what they up to with career in city & i looked up potential careers where they working at. uh just hanging out and chatting probably sitting near fountain in town square of digiland (parramatta real life ref) but not too close or water will spray everywhere (REF: the water spraying outside animal holding facility : spray art of cat and dog sign). cafe cerise (oliver brown ; it’s like cafe musain). ease of travel with parramatta station - parramatta park bigger picture than the mini park just very near station.

maybe toolbox meeting could be like a fortnightly thing -- one day per fortnight -- but day not confined to specific -- because days could clash between someone in the Power of Three. imperfect solitude, not isolation. we are connecting as human to human, not by status. this would help me be more stable, yet we all treat each other better (including ourselves) while acknowledging we’re not perfect -- less doubting of reality -- like fmv refs : cirilla and geralt in not just as child vs adult but we are child adults of human status -- reincarnation development the witcher s2 and a half : they teach each other to fight, not just geralt lighting cirilla on fire or in dune with that evil mage lighting paul atreides on fire -- instead it’s jessica and paul working together. but why fortnightly not just one. because people change and just one single burst of light within one’s life will not save us. need to arrange this bulleted stable into more solid stable para. ic + ooc mash up drabble of future development hope. like what WP post: castle hill development council building -- suburb + urban city uniting. actually after i arrange this whole thing, i tag them on a fb post o nmy own profile linking to this post -- solidly stable ic + ooc request : abstract basic premise && link to full text drabble.

being human us (aidan x josh) picture of them sitting on bench together (try to find on google as one of my first photos/wallpaper on my iphone 4 as i look at phone while on bus from high school to north rocks : friends staying), FMV’s

REF: Harrison’s FB video of him exercising and saying it’s ok not to be ok maybe??

oh also that clip of emerson the horse talking! i hearted it! relates to #haruto ic. with haruto x fiammetta at the ranch place. yet also the bigger picture group c ic i joined in digis roleplay event -- it was furry four-legged themed, strictly in event rules (this could have tied into raising more awareness of how animals feel ; re: microchipping ; but also to not judge disabled people so quick because they find it difficult to communicate straight away to another).

could also ref : the story in language of thorns : when the water sang fire? of ulla and signy -- which sounds like sigyn : aka my thread with whereherloyaltieslie my bias but also maybe look at her blog too (this is just random void stuff ; maybe drabble later of not strictly tied to harry x heath x jess)

---

they go to cabin in the woods of parra park forest (ref : goosewing cottage). yet without the annoying frogs tha tkeep one awake all night. play video game together like blazblue or bioshock infinite (multi-player -- maybe they can come over to bella cabin? (but issue with tv internet which is why i do netflix phone -- need to fix tv net ++ connection issue (and find console) with console. so multiplayer worry not so immediate - because it can just be me playing Bioshock infinite. where eponine is barely there ; she mains in parra. and i say the just hanging out to mum/dad : but not to eponine : and thety will not be as worried as eponine bc english language.

put some important other stuff in plotting board. also discussion on how to work out communication with me & eponine + parents, where i am the bridge of calm yet immediate progressive healing, with help from harrison and heath. probably just briefly talk about all the stress i endured OR maybe we also reference where we last met too : this is called talking human to human. Bella ++ Parra cabins++ outside to forest too.

another potential thing is talking about more heavy stuff in my bedroom with door closed / voice not too loud / bc we are calmly working through conflicts -- must be mindful of eponine. yet window open for breathing air. need to open light probably or the curtain on window.

cook meal together too. like what i cooked with stir-fry. cookbook i already have. or pie -- quiche aug 2019. but very yummy (dean winchester and pie relation). (maybe select one random recipe) other health issues.

getting a career outside stark’s stock. us talking and hanging out. mindful of spending so i can live life ++ build up acct of possibly a small career role part time && still go to stark’s stock too (so unification of places + money). idk what career yet, but we just talk it through first. because they know im not one dimensional. like with robot resume apply : employer vs. potential employee. maybe practice scenarios of them as employer and with me as employee.

fmv refs : cirilla and geralt in not just as child vs adult but we are child adults of human status -- reincarnation development the witcher s2 and a half : they teach each other to fight, not just geralt lighting cirilla on fire or in dune with that evil mage lighting paul atreides on fire -- instead it’s jessica x paul x chani working together.

could ne in generqal discussion elemented athelstan ic ++ sansa ic -- elemental old+new. athelstan ic recording OLD ++ one recording of NEW in voice memo.

------

FUTURE OUTINGS:

JESS:

"career. can expand to other places in parra, not just park, yet not cabins. once weekly ; can vary in days.”

HARRISON:

"not everyone is evil ; yet we all have good and bad sides : called being human. when wilfred is smoking, unification of man and monster ++ pain and pleasure” maybe descrive his voice inpodcast. not sure how to descrive his voice, i bring along: video game + blazblue bioshock infinite : maybe at an small not noisy arcade like place : maybe we book a quiet room with tv” TImezone for more general gaming : Level 4 Parra shopping centre [ 0.00 - 0.41 : Unleashing the power of the mind. ]

HEATH:

"we are working together through the trenches. bridge of healing suggestion working together for commuincaition with eponine and parents. maybe do karaoke singing at that karaoke place”

----

#below : pinned #in mean time : 'like' posts.#board continually edited in progression : not urgent.#yet first drabble has a deadline of 29/08 MON morn at latest.#writing.

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