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oblxvion · 4 years ago

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euphoric | eren jaeger (6)

-> pairing: eren jaeger x f!reader

-> wc: 3.5k

-> warnings: swearing, angst if you squint, a bit of fluff, mentions of drinking

-> note: i’m so sorry for the late update guys, i’ve been having writers block and i didn’t really know how to continue this fic. BUT i love it too much so bear with me. thank you all for being so patient.

you woke up to the comfort of your bed, sitting up slowly as you were slightly confused at how you’d arrived here. the sound of your fan echoed quietly throughout your room as you checked your phone, seeing that it was around 3:30 in the morning.

the sluggish feeling of a hangover was prominent as you made your way over to the bathroom, looking into the mirror as you walked over to the toilet. your makeup was taken off, but who did it? who brought you back home? all you remembered from the hours prior was dancing with this guy named reiner and sitting outside on the curb of the street.

once you finished in the bathroom, you entered your room, grabbed one of your favorite sweatshirts before heading into the kitchen. your throat was a bit dry and head pounding from the alcohol you had consumed earlier that night.

the apartment was quiet, you made the assumption that sasha had not made it home yet. knowing her, she was probably out and having some fun with niccolo. you reached up to the cabinet and got a hold of a glass before turning on the tap for some cold water, filling the cup up about three quarters of the way and putting in some ice.

just as you were about to leave and head back off to bed, you noticed that there were a pair of shoes that you knew weren’t yours or sasha’s over by the door to your apartment. who would leave a pair of shoes at someones house and then leave? or maybe they didn’t?

you walked over to the placemat near the door and looked at the shoes, unsure of who they could belong to. your head was throbbing, it seemed to be too much brainpower to think and figure out who’s shoes they were. your body ached as you made the decision to fret about the shoes later and made your way back into your bedroom when you walked by the couch to see a body out cold. you took a quick glance, brushing it off because chances are, it could be sasha who came home and passed out on the couch.

just as you were about to exit the room and head to your bedroom, it struck you that the body on the couch looked nothing like sasha. to get a better look, you walked back into the living room and looked over to the couch.

“eren?”

he jolted up from his slumber to see you looking over at him from behind the couch with a glass of water in your hand, clearly confused and annoyed to see him on laying there.

“what the hell are you doing here?” you were pissed off, who does he think he is to sleep in your home? you didn’t even want to see him, you remembered only bits and pieces of what happened a few hours prior at the party; for example, him and historia.

eren was confused on why you were upset with him, he was the one who brought you back. maybe the amount of alcohol you had was too much and he was going to have to tell you the story once again.

“y/n, just listen. please?” he asked, sitting up on the couch, eyes pleading you to let him share what he had to say. part of you wanted to kick him out and not even hear what he had to say, but you had been so stressed the past week that you knew that you had to hear what he had to say. your lack of response urged him to continue speaking as you sat down on the opposite edge of the couch.

“so, to start,” he cleared his throat, running a hand through his hair, “i have no idea who the girl was who texted me, i don’t save anyone’s numbers unless they’re important to me. i haven’t been seeing anyone ever since you gave me a chance. do you really think i’d want to fuck up with you?”

you pondered his question for a moment, eren had made it clear in the past that he wanted this to work but you were still nervous about it. sasha had warned you about his past but he seemed intent on making you realize that he wasn’t going to be like that anymore.

“no, you wouldn’t.” you sighed, setting your glass down on the side table before turning back over to him.

“then why’d you get so upset?” his voice quiet as he looked into your eyes. even in moments like these, he still managed to get you flustered and you hated him for that.

“eren, how would you react if you saw a text from a guy on my phone saying something like that? of course you’d be upset, like any normal person would.” you glared at him before regaining your composure.

“well, yeah -” he began before you cut him off.

“then why do you do it?” you blurted out.

“do what?”

“treat girls like this! talk them up and then get in their pants and then leave? does it boost your ego or something? does it make you feel good? i don’t know if i can believe that you haven’t seen anyone else, why would she text you out of the blue like that? why can’t you just be honest with me?” all these questions that had been filling your mind for the last week just kept coming out as eren sat there, clearly dumbfounded.

“do you really wanna know?” eren said softly, looking away to hide his face.

“yes, i do actually.” you said matter-of-factly.

“it’s because of my dad.” he sighed, bringing his head in his hands as you gave him an unconvinced look. eren had told you about the drama with his family in the past, about how his father had a previous marriage and then married eren’s mom carla. he also told you that grisha was never really home but he didn’t tell you the reason for that. “so you know how my dad had a previous marriage? he remarried to my mom and then after that was never really at the house, he was always out. as a kid, i thought he was just doing it because of work, like he said. but every time he would leave, it was so easy to read the hurt and distrust on my mom’s face.”

“okay, so what are you implying?” all the possible things that grisha could be doing flowed through your head, but the most obvious answer stayed prominent in your mind.

“even though he said that he was out doing his job, he was out fucking around with other women. what’s even worse is that i had no idea about this until my parents got a divorce and mom told be about what he was up to.” your heart sank at this information. you hadn’t met eren’s mom before but he always spoke so highly of her and come to think of it, he never really talked about his dad.

“oh, eren, i’m so sorry.” you whispered, moving closer to him on the couch as if to give him a sense of comfort.

“nah, you don’t need to apologize. i’m not trying to guilt trip you either but it’s just after that, i got with so many girls to hide away the fact that i was hurt and betrayed by my dads actions. i love my mom so much and to find out what he was doing to her, it made me emotionless in some ways, sex was really the only way that would take my mind off of things. and what’s even worse, some of the girls got attached to me and i couldn’t do that so i ended up ghosting them, i think that’s why that girl texted me.”

“wow, yeah, that’ll do it to you. i’m really sorry though, i had no idea that your dad was seeing other women while he was with your mom,” you said quietly, looking over to him. “but it wasn’t right to do that to those other girls, using them to forget about your problems isn’t okay, eren.”

“fuck, yeah, i know.” he groaned, throwing his head back on the back of the couch. “i feel horrible about it. but then you came along and i started to catch feelings so i swore off other girls to focus my full attention onto you.”

“i appreciate that, but what about historia? i thought you said that you were done with her, why were you with her earlier?” your voice unwavering as you asked him this question. you weren’t intimidated by her, but you were merely confused why eren said that he was done talking and hanging around her and then to see him with her at the party.

“didn’t i tell you?” you shook your head at his comment, maybe you didn’t remember. “i told you earlier about why i was with her, maybe you were a bit too drunk to remember but i can say it again. “well, i was talking to historia about it because i wanted to know what to do and how to work things out with you, but if it bothers you and makes you uncomfortable, i won’t do it again.”

coming to think of it, it all made sense. there was nothing really suspicious going on between the two when you walked over to them in the hours prior. what hurt more is that he lied and said that he didn’t talk to her anymore and to find him standing with her made you feel like you were being fucked around with.

“thanks but it’s just the fact that you lied to me. you told me that the two of you had stopped talking and then seeing you were with her, made me extremely anxious and i felt betrayed.” eren stayed silent at your remark, he knew that you were right, he had told you that the two of them had stopped talking. “look, historia is a nice person, i like her and i want to hopefully become friends with her in the future. but can you not lie to me? i don’t care if you guys are friends but just tell me the truth, okay? i don’t want to see something and then make assumptions based on that information.”

“i’m sorry y/n. i promise you, i only see her as a friend and she sees me as one too. she even has a girlfriend but regardless, it wasn’t right to be there with her. it wasn’t smart of me.” he apologizes, turning his body towards yours.

although part of you still wanted to bicker about his actions, his apology was sincere. he clearly had no intentions of treating you like those other girls in the past and you felt bad for them too. you knew that even though eren had told you that he only wanted you, he was going to have to prove himself as well.

“you know, i’m going to forgive you but you’re gonna have to prove that you don’t want anyone else because i won’t let myself be hurt like i was throughout this past week. do you know how stressed i was? i literally wasn’t coming out of my room,” you retorted, remembering how you felt not even a couple days ago.

“i fucked up, but i’m willing to do everything to make it better, i can assure you of that.” he gave you a apologetic smile as he took your hands in his, eren wanted to make this work. for the first time in his life he felt compelled to make this relationship with you healthy and pursue it. his eagerness surprised you, but you only smiled at him.

“we can start over, but please don’t do that again, okay? just tell me the truth first when things similar to this happen. i was pretty depressed for the whole week.” you yawned, the feeling of exhaustion overtaking you as you stood up slowly from the couch.

“yeah, of course. i was pretty stressed out too, but i’m sorry for putting you through that, y/n. it won’t happen ever again,” eren promises you as he gets up from his position on the couch, standing in front of you.

part of you wanted to reach out and hug him, because yes, you did miss him. but the other part of you thought that it wasn’t smart considering everything that happened. in this conversation, you realized that you and eren went into a relationship way too quickly. although you knew that you wanted to be with him, you had to set some boundaries first before that happened again. eren also needed to prove to you that he truly meant what he had said, you didn’t want to go through that again.

you gave eren a small smile before both of you went silent, knowing that neither one wanted to go back to being what you were before or even worse, strangers. but there had to be work done in order for this to work out for the two of you.

you and eren stood there in awkward silence before eren cleared his throat as if he were going to try and start another conversation. he had one question that was driving him crazy in his mind, he had to know your answer.

“so, how do you know reiner?” eren asks you, choking on his words as he didn’t want to sound too nosy, but in all truth, he wanted to know your answer. reiner had always been a friend to eren, but there was un unspoken rivalry between the two of them. eren just wanted to make sure that you weren’t interested in him, as he had seen you dancing with reiner earlier.

“oh i don’t actually, i kinda forced him to dance with me once sasha went over to niccolo.” you chuckled, remembering how ecstatic sasha was with seeing him. “why’d you ask?”

“oh, uh, no reason,” he said nervously, bringing his hand back behind his neck as he turned away from you slightly, not wanting you to see his slightly tinted cheeks.

“is the eren jaeger getting jealous?” you teased, poking his forearm as you tried to get a reaction out of him. it was cute seeing him like this, it made you realize how much you missed him during this past week.

“oh my god, no! i was just curious on how you knew him!” eren groaned, looking back over to you, seeing as you were trying hard to keep yourself together before laughing at eren’s remark. seeing you smile and seeing you happy made his heart warm in a way that he had missed. with every girl that eren knew or was on his list of bodies, none of them made him feel the way you did. “what’s so funny?”

“nothing!” you sighed, catching your breathe and looking back over to him. “‘just thought it was cute how you got jealous over something like that.”

eren gave you a small ‘hmph’ before crossing his arms in a playful manner before dropping the act, giving you his signature smile. “yeah, yeah.”

you hated him for it, the way his smile could make your face heat up and the feeling of butterflies in your stomach, if only he knew that the smallest things made your feelings for him grow.

“so do you need a ride home? i can order you an uber,” you offered, pointing in the direction of your room to where your phone was located. “it’s the least i can do since you went out of your way to bring me home.”

“don’t worry about it, i didn’t want you getting in the car with some creep since you were pretty drunk.” he told you as he headed over to the door to slip his shoes on before grabbing the door handle. “i also drove here, so there’s no need.”

“okay, are you sure?” you asked him, walking over to the door to see him out.

“yeah, it’s no biggie, i promise.” he chuckled, standing up straighter as he opened the door.

“alright,” you said quietly, leaning up against the wall next to him. “i’ll see you soon?”

“for sure, text me.” he gives you a soft smile, as he ties his hair back into a lose man bun.

“okay,” you whispered, not wanting to be too loud since your door was now open as you returned the smile. you stared at him for a moment, pondering on what you should do next and whether it was appropriate to do.

eren gave you a small nod before exiting through the door when you grabbed his arm and pressed a chaste kiss to his cheek, leaving him dumbfounded.

“text me when you get home.” you told him as you shut the door gently, leaving eren standing in front of your apartment in shock. he was somewhat surprised by your action, but he knew and so did you, that this was going to be a new start for the two of you.

you were somewhat proud of yourself for not running back to him completely. as much as you wanted to, starting from the beginning is going to be good for the two of you. there wasn’t much that you were worried about, aside from the fact that the two of you had an insanely high sex drive.

people have sex early in relationships all the time, right? not that it mattered when you and eren had sex again, but it’s effort that you’re worried about. what if after the two of you have sex again, he becomes bored and gets a text like that again? you knew that he wouldn’t because he told you so, but the thought still lingered in your mind.

meanwhile, eren was driving back to his place, glad that he had told you what had happened and the truth about his actions. he had been nervous for your reaction to his words as he had not really planned to tell you at 4:00 in the morning, but surprisingly, you were willing to listen and understand what he had to say.

as the music played softly in the background of his car, eren drowned himself in his thoughts and realized that he was truly grateful to be given this chance to try again. although he’d told you before, and he’d say it again and again, he cares about you too much to let this go to waste; he’d do everything he could to prove to you that he was worthy for you.

upon arriving home, eren was exhausted, physically and mentally after this past week. after changing into some comfortable sleeping clothes and brushing his teeth, eren finally got into the comfort of his bed, sighing at the cushiony feeling of the mattress. he could feel his eyes flutter closed as it came to his attention how tired he really was.

he made sure to send you a quick text, letting you know that he’d made it back home safely. your lack of response proved to him that you were probably fast asleep since he had surprised you with being on your couch in the middle of the night.

with that, he turned on his side and attempted to fall asleep, a small smile appearing on his face.

you woke up in the late hours of the morning with the urge to use the bathroom once again. once you finished, you peered into sasha’s room, finding her completely passed out in the bed. she must’ve arrived in earlier and did a pretty good job of not waking you up. you were going to have to tell her how you got home eventually and the conversation you had with eren.

just as you plopped back into bed, you peered over to your phone and saw the text that eren had sent you to inform you that he arrived back at his place safe and sound. you clicked the little heart button on the text, showing that you were glad that he made it. you felt yourself smiling at this small action before catching yourself and setting your phone down beside you on the bed.

eren was always going to be an important person in your life, there was no doubt. but if you lost him, you wouldn’t know what’d you’d do.

just as you were about to get out of bed, your phone buzzed as a text message went through. curious at who it was from, and what it was about, you opened your phone, giggling at the text.

“this boy,” you chuckled, shaking your head as you got up and prepared a text back.

eren jaeger

so are you free tomorrow night?

i wanna take you on a date

#euphoric series #eren jaeger x y/n #euporic eren jaeger #eren jaeger x reader #eren jaeger x reader smut #eren jaeger x you #eren jaeger #eren #attack on titan eren #snk eren #shingeki no kyoujin x reader #snk smut #aot smut #eren yaeger x y/n #eren yaeger #eren yaeger aot #eren yaeger x you

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aecs-multy · 3 years ago

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Even in the darkest hour, we will find the light

Summary:

When Arthur discovers that Merlin has magic, things go downhill fast, but sometimes you need to reach rock bottom to get up stronger than ever.

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He was tired. As the last bandit fell to the floor barely five meters in front of him, all the energy left his body. Around him were the unconscious bodies of men and women alike, the bodies of those who had tried to hurt them. They had been too many. He knew there had been no way that they had gotten out of the ambush alive if he hadn’t used his magic.

He also knew that there was no way that Arthur hadn’t seen him using it. Slowly, he lowered his hand, that had been pointing at the last bandit he had knocked out. He was so, so tired. He didn’t want to turn around, he didn’t want to see the hurt, the anger, the hatred, the betrayal that would be in those blue eyes he had learned to love.

Merlin’s vision got blurry, but it wasn’t until a lonely tear run down his cheek that he understood why. He was crying. Right in that moment, he had lost everything. He lost his life, his home, his family, his friends, his soulmate. All his life hiding, doing things from the shadows, completely alone, without people that understood him because he couldn’t let them in, for it to end like this.

I should have let that last one kill me, Merlin thought, Arthur wouldn’t have any problem defeating him and I wouldn’t have to turn around and see him now. He almost wanted to laugh. To think that he didn’t want to even look at Arthur right now because it would hurt too much to see what his king was thinking.

The point of a sword was placed between his shoulder plates and he stuttered a breath. This was it. He was going to die by the sword of the man he had sworn to protect, by the sword of the man he loved. His destiny was going to be his end. At least I won’t have to face him, he thought with a trembling smile while another tear fell.

��Merlin,” Arthur said, and his tone was cold, sharper than the sword that threatened to pierce him. “Turn around.”

He gulped and closed his eyes. It took him what seemed like hours to do as he was told, his body trembling with the chill that had suddenly filled his bones, feeling so cold that not even his hysteric beating heart could warm him.

“Open your eyes.”

He shook his head and pressed his eyelids harder together, willing himself to not break down. When he felt the sword reach his throat, he let a pained gasp fall from his lips.

“I said open your eyes.” Each word was said slowly and punctuated with added pressure of the metal against his skin, until a small drop of blood run down his neck.

He did as he was told, but the moment his eyes landed on Arthur’s, he wish he hadn’t, that he had kept them closed and died without the image that would now haunt him during what little he had left of live and during his death.

Those beautiful eyes were shining with unshed tears, full of those emotions he had put there, and he would give his life to make them go away. Arthur was gripping the hilt of the sword with both hands, in a position he had seen him do many times during his training and their adventures. The difference was that his hands were trembling now. It was barely noticeable, but Merlin knew him better than anyone.

“You have magic,” he said.

It wasn’t a question, but Merlin answered with a weak voice anyways, “Yes.”

“All… all this time, you... you’ve been lying to me,” Arthur said, his voice quivering. “I trusted you, I… I let you in, you were my servant, but also my advisor and friend, I… how could you do this to me?”

“I-” he tried to reply, but nothing came out of his mouth. He wanted to say a lot of things, but Arthur wouldn’t believe him, not now, not ever again, and proof of that was how he pressed the sword harder against him, making him hiss in pain.

He kept staring at Arthur’s eyes for seconds, minutes, hours, days? He didn’t know, but none of them moved or looked away. Finally, Arthur put Excalibur down. “I banish you from Camelot, you have until midnight to cross the frontier, if you ever return, you’ll burn in the pyre.”

His whole expression changed as he covered his emotions with a mask, not letting them show, and that was worse than seeing how much pain he had caused him.

“No,” Merlin said, his voice surprisingly strong, but being banished and separated from Arthur would be a fate worse than death. Determination filled him and he swore to himself that he wouldn’t let Arthur send him away. If he had to die, then so be it, but he wouldn’t that which made him whole.

A flicker of anger went through Arthur’s eyes before he could control himself. “What did you say?” Arthur asked between gritted teeth.

“I won’t go away.”

Arthur took a step closer, making them stand with their noses almost touching, but they had never been further apart, and said, “Then you’ll die, is that what you want?”

“No, but the only thing that will separate me from you will be my death,” he said. Merlin turned around and put his hands behind his back, wrists together, presenting them to Arthur to tie them. “I will be by your side until my last breath, until my heart stops beating, so don’t tell me to go, because your face will be the last thing my eyes will see when my world fades to darkness and your name will be the last word my lips will utter.”

“Then you leave me no choice.”

He felt something hit the back of his head, and then he fell, unconscious.

oOoOo

They were all seated in their respective places in the round table, but Gwaine couldn’t help but feel itchy, ready to fight at any moment. Something wasn’t right, he knew it because no one else was in the room but them, and neither were guards outside of the door like there would be any other day. What made him feel worse, though, was the lack of Merlin.

Their friend was always there, even if he wasn’t a knight, and not because he was Arthur's servant. He was always there because he was their friend and even if Arthur would never admit it, they often came to him for advice.

That’s why he knew something was wrong, because Arthur wouldn’t have called them all without Merlin being there, not unless something had happened to their friend. As he looked around, he saw the confused and worried expression of the rest of the knights, mirroring his own.

As soon as Arthur sat, he spoke, “Merlin is a sorcerer.”

With those four words, all the blood left Gwaine’s face. He knew what those words meant, but he refused to believe them. Merlin wasn’t a sorcerer, he was his best friend, he would know. No, Merlin wasn’t a sorcerer.

The silence in the room was deafening, everyone looking around, as if expecting someone to burst out laughing and tell them it was a lie.

“He isn’t a sorcerer, Arthur, how could he? He is Merlin,” Lancelot said, some kind of urgency laced to his words. Gwaine saw that, of all of them, he seemed the most affected by the statement. Lancelot looked as if he had seen a ghost, panic clear in his face, his hands trembling where they rested in fists over the table.

“I saw him myself doing magic, I saw how he defeated 20 bandits with just movements of his hands right in front of me. Merlin is a sorcerer,” Arthur said without looking at them, staring at the door.

“He isn’t,” Gwaine said. “He can’t be.”

“He is.”

“No, he isn’t, because that would mean that he will have to die, and that won’t happen,” Gwaine said fiercely. He wouldn’t let his best friend die.

“He betrayed Camelot, he used magic. I offered him banishment, but he said that he would rather die than go away,” Arthur said, his tone was low, but full of ice and betrayal and it echoed in the room. “He will burn in the pyre first thing in the morning.”

Gwaine didn’t waste a second, he got up and drew his sword. He said, “You won’t touch a hair of his head.”

Arthur didn’t move, didn’t even flinch. “He is accused of treason to his king, of using magic and letting it corrupt him. Both of those crimes are sentenced with death.”

“Treason of what?!” Gwaine shouted angrily, hitting the table with his free hand, leaning on it. “He is the most loyal person you will ever meet, more loyal than all of us together, and not because of a lack of loyalty in our part. He has gone to countless dangerous places for you, done a hundred million things to keep you safe and to protect you. He is the bravest man Camelot has ever seen, and all you give him in exchange is burn him to death?!” He was breathing shakily and his jaw hurt. “If you want to hurt him, you will have to kill me first.”

“Then I accuse you of treason and will die alongside Merlin,” Arthur said, his gaze now in Gwaine.

“Then I shall burn with them.” It was Lancelot who spoke now, and Gwaine noticed that he had stood up and drawn his sword at some point too. “I knew of Merlin’s magic since the first day I came to Camelot.”

Arthur looked at him now, his eyes full of hatred and his words dripping poison when he said, “You knew?”

“I did,” Lancelot said. “You want to know what he used the magic for when I discovered it? To save Camelot from the Griffin. To save you. All those times branches feel on our enemies’ heads, all those times we lost the enemy, all those times he guided us in the right direction, he use magic to help us.”

“Am I surrounded by traitors now?!” Arthur shouted standing up, looking at the rest of the knights, that cowered under the anger that radiated from their king.

“No, you’re surrounded by friends.” Surprisingly, it was Leon who talked. “I didn’t know about Merlin’s magic, but I do know him. I don’t believe that he is evil, nor a monster, nor corrupted. He was your friend, and so are we, and that’s the reason why we stand by your side, but sometimes we must stand against you to make you see reason. That’s why you trust us, because we aren’t afraid of telling you what we think. If you wanted someone to lick your boots and kiss the floor you step on then you would have sacked Merlin a long time ago in the first place.”

Arthur looked more and more enraged by the moment. “Merlin is a sorcerer,” he said through gritted teeth, as if that was the answer to all their problems.

“So what?!” Gwaine asked. “He is our friend and he would never hurt us or Camelot. He is so devoted to you that he would go to the mouth of hell just to make you smile!”

“He lied to all of us!”

“And can’t you imagine why he did that?! In Camelot, if you use or have magic, you die. What did you want him to do, come and tell you?!” Gwaine argued.

Arthur shouted, “Yes!”

“He couldn’t because if he did, you would have killed him, like you are going to do now!”

“I don’t want to kill him!” Arthur said, his voice breaking at the end, and now Gwaine saw what was happening. Arthur had been told all his life that magic corrupted whoever used it, but now that Merlin was the one he had to sentence to death, he was conflicted in his beliefs.

“Then don’t,” Gwaine said softer. “Magic is just a tool, not better or worse than a sword. It’s the one that yields it who choses how to use it. Do you believe that Merlin, and forget for a second that he has magic, would ever betray Camelot, betray you?”

The silence that followed then was answer enough. “We all know Merlin, he wouldn’t hurt anyone that didn’t deserve it.” Percival said.

“And what should I do?”

“Go to the dungeons, tell Merlin that he’s free and he won’t die, tell him that you are going to lift the ban against magic, tell him he’s no longer your servant, and when he has a fit about it, and we all know he will have one because only someone like him would want to be your servant, then you tell him that he’s now the court sorcerer.” Gwaine said.

“I can’t just lift the ban against magic, a lot of people wouldn’t be happy with that and they will demand a reason.”

Gwaine was happy to hear that the only thing he complained about was what people would think. Arthur appreciated Merlin more than he would let himself believe. “Then tell them it’s for Merlin, half of Camelot likes him, the other half loves him and would kill you if you put him anywhere near a pyre.” Gwaine shrugged.

“This isn’t a time for jokes.” Arthur sat down with a heavy sigh.

“It doesn’t need to be made in the span of a day, it will take months, maybe years, but erasing the ban against magic will be what we will aim for, starting with the erasure of the death penalty,” Leon said, always the pacifist and the voice of reason.

“Merlin betrayed me,” Arthur said, probably more to himself than to the knights, and before Gwaine could argue, Lancelot talked.

“He didn’t. Is it betrayal to do something with the objective of protecting their king and kingdom? Is it betrayal to hide something to avoid their death? Is it betrayal to risk their life for the people they love?” Lancelot said.

“We can’t kill Merlin,” Elyan, that had been silent until then, said. “It would be wrong.”

Arthur stared at his hands, thinking, until he said, “I want to be left alone, no one is to disturb me unless it’s an emergency.”

Everyone looked at the rest of the knights, unsure of what to do, not wanting to disobey their king but worried about their friend in the dungeons too. Gwaine wouldn’t move unless Arthur promised that he wouldn’t kill Merlin.

“I’ll go and free Merlin myself, now go,” Arthur said, addressing what everyone was thinking, and one by one, the knights left. All but Gwaine.

“I know your father always told you that magic was evil, but, Arthur, Merlin needs you right now. I can’t begin to imagine how lonely his life might have been, hiding something so important about himself. If you ever tell anyone, I will deny it, but I’m begging you, don’t be a prat, because if anyone can break him, it’s you.”

He didn’t let Arthur answer, he was out of the door before his words could take effect, praying that his friends would find a solution to their differences.

oOoOo

With each step he took down the stairs he willed his beating heart to calm down. He had went to countless battles, fought against thousands of enemies, lead armies to victory, killed mythical beasts, but nothing had terrified him as much as this.

“I want to talk to the prisoner alone,” Arthur said, trying to keep the fear out of his voice. The guards nodded and walked away.

He hesitated one, two, three times before he got the courage to walk in front of the cell where Merlin was. The sorcerer was sitting on the corner, his legs pulled to his chest, his arms around them and his chin resting on his knees, his gaze unfocused. His eyes were red from crying, his face was so pale that Arthur thought he was going to faint at any giving moment.

He had never seen Merlin like this, as if the life had been drawn out of him and nothing was left, just the shell of the bubbly man he had learn to love. Arthur still had problems believing it, that Merlin could use magic, that he could conjure such power.

The knights were right, Merlin didn’t deserve to die, he deserved every good thing the world had. He was the kindest, selfless, most loyal, bravest and strongest person in the whole kingdom. And yet, he had imprisoned him because Merlin had saved his life.

All the things Uther had said about magic, how it corrupted people, how it made them evil and dangerous, how they had to get rid of them, it had to be wrong. Everything he thought he knew about magic from his father was wrong. He didn’t know what to believe anymore, he was starting to doubt all the things he had learnt in his life.

His world was turning upside down, and the only person he wanted to be with was in a cell, where he had put him.

“Merlin,” he said, and talking now seemed like the hardest task of all, but he managed to choke his best friend’s name out of his lips.

The sorcerer looked up, a sad smile on his lips. “Is it time?”

Arthur felt sick. How could Merlin look at him, smiling, and accept his death without a fight? After what he saw at the forest, he knew that Merlin could have escaped, could have threatened him, or done something. But no, Merlin was there, sitting, looking miserable and staring at Arthur with trust and love in his eyes.

“It is,” he said with a shaky voice. Tears threatened to spill from his eyes, but he blinked them away. He wanted to know what to do, he wanted a solution, he wanted to go back in time and not know anything about Merlin’s magic because that way he wouldn’t have so many problems.

“It’s okay, I’ll look after you and Camelot even when I’m gone,” Merlin said, his smile so genuine that Arthur had to grab the bars from the cell to keep himself from falling down when his knees became weak.

“It’s- it’s not okay,” he said softly, voice choked with emotion. He didn’t like showing emotion, he didn’t like being vulnerable, but this was Merlin. Merlin, who had stood by his side even at the worst of times. Merlin, who had broken down his walls and disarmed him with smiles. Merlin, who had been loyal to him all this time. Merlin, who had seen him broken down and, instead of taking advantage of that, he had built him back together. Merlin, who treated him like a person, like a friend, and not like a king. Merlin, who had magic and had used it to save Arthur even when that meant he would be accused of sorcery and condemned to death.

Merlin, who he trusted with his life and who he loved more than he loved himself.

He could be vulnerable around Merlin, because even now, Merlin still believed in him, he could see it in his eyes.

“I- I don’t know what to do, Merlin,” he said, his eyes glued to Merlin’s, pleading him and asking for some kind of solution to this mess.

“Arthur,” Merlin said, standing up and almost falling when his legs gave out. He managed to recover and walked to stand before him. “You might be the king, but you don’t need to have all the answers.”

“That doesn’t help, so just tell me what to do,” Arthur pleaded.

“Well, it’s nice to see that you’re still a prat, barking orders. One might think that after all this years you would have learnt that I never do as asked,” Merlin said, and somehow, Arthur chuckled despite himself. He bowed his head and looked at his feet, a tear falling to the floor, between his feet.

“I’m sorry,” he said.

“Why? I like being here, at least I don’t have an annoying dollophead bossing me around,” Merlin joked, his tone light, but it did nothing to lighten Arthur’s heart.

“I’ve been horrible to you, haven’t I?” Arthur asked, although he didn’t need Merlin to answer, he already knew it would be a ‘yes’. He had treated Merlin horrible at times just because he felt pressured to keep his servant at arm’s length, because he was the king, and a king couldn’t be friends with his servant. Never mind that to him Merlin was much more than a friend.

“No,” Merlin said, and Arthur felt hands over his a second later. When he looked up, Merlin was watching him with so much emotion that Arthur felt dizzy. “You might be a royal prat, and bossy, but you’re also my friend. I know you, Arthur, and I know you care about me, you don’t need to say it for me to know it. You would have sacked me a long time ago if it weren’t because of our friendship, because let’s be honest, I’m the worst servant ever.”

“You are,” Arthur chuckled wetly, a few more tears running down his cheeks.

“You may not have the answer to this, but I’m certain that whatever you do will be the right thing. I believe in you.”

“How can you say that when you’re locked in a cell because of me?” Arthur asked. He wondered how it was possible that Merlin was the one consoling him and not the other way.

“Because I love you,” Merlin said, his cheeks slowly reddening with a blush. “I have loved you for a long time now and I never told you because I was afraid of losing you. You’re destined to great things, too, and I trust that you’ll unite Albion and lead everyone to a time of prosperity and peace like never before.”

He knew he should say something back, like how he felt the same and that they could rule together one day, that if he was destined to great things would only be because he had Merlin by his side, but he couldn’t make a sound. When Merlin gave him another sad smile and took a step back, Arthur didn’t think, he just reacted.

He grabbed Merlin’s face and joined their lips, doing what he had wanted to do for a really long time. At first, he could feel the surprise in the sorcerer in the way he tensed, but when Arthur didn’t let go or pushed him away, he relaxed, and finally, the kiss was reciprocated. It was uncomfortable with the metal bars pressing in his cheeks, but all that mattered was how much he loved Merlin and the soft lips that moved at the same time that his.

Shivers ran down his spine and a tingling sensation spread through his body with each caress of their lips. His heart wanted nothing more than escaping the confines of his body and go to Merlin, because the sorcerer was its real owner. The feeling of the metal bars disappeared suddenly and hands moved to cup his face, thumbs stroking his cheekbones. Arthur’s arms circled around Merlin’s waist and pushed them flushed together until they were chest to chest, an urgency to touch him filling his bones. He could have lost Merlin because of his own stupidity, and he needed to know that Merlin was there, with him

“I’m sorry,” Arthur gasped when they broke the kiss to get some air, their foreheads pressed together. “I love you, too.”

“I got as much from the kiss,” Merlin said cheekily, his breath coming in puffs that tickled Arthur’s lips.

“Shut up,” Arthur laughed.

“We both know you don’t actually want me to shut up,” Merlin said, moving his head to look at him, an eyebrow raised in a way that made him look like Gaius.

“I don’t want you to change. I want you to always be you. Magic or not,” Arthur admitted, staring back at Merlin’s blue eyes and begging him to understand how much he meant those words. “You’ll have to teach me so that I can understand, but I can’t kill you, I could never do that to you.”

“I’ll tell you everything, I promise, even what I don’t want to say,” Merlin said seriously, but his eyes were full of happiness.

In that moment, Arthur noticed that with Merlin by his side, they could fix this, because they had always done things together. The reason why he couldn’t find a solution was because he needed his other half to guide him.

“Where are the bars of the cell?” Arthur asked when he looked around.

“I… made them disappear?” Merlin said, his eyes wide and innocent. It was such a Merlin thing to do that Arthur wondered how he could ever think that the sorcerer was evil. The knights were right and he would have never forgiven himself if he had sent Merlin to the pyre.

“Of course you did,” Arthur said, shaking his head in amusement. “Everything will be alright, won’t it?”

“It will, Arthur,” Merlin said, kissing him softly once again. “It will.”

#merthur #merlin #merlin bcc #arthur pendragon #one shot #merthur fic #gwaine #lancelot #leon #percival #elyan #knights of the round table #merlin x arthur #i miss my merthur #merlin fandom

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lis-likes-fics · 3 years ago

Note

Hey! Can you please do where Lucille gets somehow injured and y/n takes care of her? Maybe it all leads to them making out and confessing love?

Pairing: Lucille Sharpe x Reader

Warning: Injuries

Author's Note: I was too lazy to go to my computer to post this, so enjoy the set up ig. Also, thank you for the request! I hope you enjoy. There are a couple lines inspired by an episode of Lucifer because I just watched it yesterday. Enjoy!

~~~

You always had your beliefs in ghosts. You also had your fair share of them. You met kind ones, sorrowful ones, malevolent ones. But most of them were full of pain and fear, and it pained you to see.

But never had you been in a house so full of haunted spirits that roamed the corridors of Allerdale Hall. They seemed to be some of the saddest spirits you had ever met. It took time at first for you to grow used to them, but the spirits slowly learned that you did not fear them. They grew used to you and you learned to live in the house with your dear friend, Lucille Sharpe.

The way you met Lucille had changed your life. You were a part of a rich family who cared only for wealth. You lived with an abusive mother and no father, he had died when you were young and it turned your mother's heart to ice. Lucille had met you only a few months before it happened. You had quickly grown close and were able to call her your friend.

You once asked about her family, if she had one. She had told you that she had been abandoned by her brother when he ran off with his wife, leaving her alone in an empty mansion. She had come in search of funds to keep her old family's home supported. You were able to convince your mother to lend her some money.

Lucille stood by you for quite a while in your home, she was living in your own mansion as a guest. In doing so, she got a front row seat in your home treatment and she was quick to oppose.

She questioned you, why did you live here in this hell hole? Why did you put up with such punishment? Your answer? It was the only place you had. But one night an accident happened while your mother was out. You had gotten word later that night that she had been killed in an accident with the carriage. The horses had been spooked while pulling the carriage and ran wild. It had caused the carriage to crash and it killed your mother and the driver.

The family fortune went to you as her heir. But you could not stay in that house any longer. Lucille offered to allow you a stay in her own home. It would be lonely without company, so she offered you hers and her, yours. You accepted her offer with a smile.

That was how you came to live in Allerdale Hall, also known as Crimson Peak.

You and Lucille only grew closer. But there was an aspect of the mansion you couldn't quite put to rest. The secrets of the house. Why were there so many ghosts, and why were they so terribly haunted?

You learned of the ghosts and how they died. You gathered the information as you approached the ghosts. They knew you didn't fear them, and they yearned to give you the answers you sought.

Lucille knew what you were doing after a while and tried to figure out what to do. If you knew the truth, you would leave her. This house was too big and too haunted to live here on her own - it was one of the real reasons she had come to you and your town. She didn't want to be alone in that house.

But the more she fought to figure out what to do, the more she realized something. Everyone in this house falls to ruins over time. Everyone finds out, one way or another, that this house brought only death.

Over her life, she was never bothered by the death of anyone except her brother. But then you showed up and showed her care and hope. You gave her this strange feeling. A feeling not even Thomas had given to her. She couldn't place it, though she felt it was obvious.

But she feared your death more than anything in the world. She could not lose you, she would not. So she did what she could to assure you lived.

"Y/N, it's time for you to go," Lucille told you once during tea. She had been acting strangely all day - all week even. She was distant, almost scared and sad.

You stared at her in shock and disbelief, before slowly sinking into fear.

"What? Why?" you asked quickly, a flurry of words escaping your mouth at once, "Did I do something wrong? Why do I have to go?"

Lucille winced at your questions. She didn't know why it was so hard to tell you to leave. She couldn't understand what was tethering you so tightly to her. "You've done nothing wrong… but I feel it is time for us to move on. You've been in this house for so long and… I fear it will not end well if you should stay."

"But why, Lucille? I don't want to go, I don't want to leave you," you told her, tears springing to your eyes as you pleaded with her, "Please, don't make me go."

You weren't budging. Lucille didn't want to, but the only way to get you to leave was to force you out. She would rather push you away than lose you to death.

"I know you have been snooping around the house. You have been invading in my privacy and secrets, and that is something I cannot allow. So it is time for you to leave." She stood and began walking off in the direction of the grand stairs.

You stood and followed her, "I'm sorry. I just… I was curious and it was wrong of me to invade. Please don't make me go. I'll do better."

You didn't want to leave her. She was so good to you and the alternative was to return home to your family who cared so little.

At the center of the stairs, she turned on you then. There were tears in her own eyes as she spoke, "Y/N, don't you see? You have to leave. You can't stay here. I know you've been trying to uncover the secrets in the house - I know you have already. So you know by now that this house brings nothing but darkness. Death. I can't risk losing you and in doing so, you must leave."

You shook your head, "I'm not leaving you, Lucille. Do not push me away, I can't lose the only friend I've had."

"But you must," she said, turning away from you, "it is not safe here and I will not put you in any more danger. You may not fear the ghosts, but you should fear me."

You knew what she had done, everything. The scams she created and executed with her brother. The murder of her mother and the poisoning of the other women her brother had married for the scam. How her brother had fallen in love with the last woman she had conned and left with her, abandoning his sister. He didn't want to leave her - he begged her to come with. But she refused.

Because of all of this, you knew you should have feared her, run away from her. But you could not. No matter what she had done, you couldn't leave her.

"I don't care what you've done, Lucille. No matter what, I will be here for you. That's what friends do. It's what I'm willing to do because I don't want to lose you."

"Y/N," she whispered, "Please, don't make this any harder than it has to be." She looked up at you, a deep frown set on her face and tears in her eyes.

You stood your ground, looking her deep in those chaotically beautiful eyes and shaking your head, "I'm not leaving you."

"Then I'll make you," she said, taking a step back to turn around. Your eyes widened as she lost her balance, unknowing that she had taken a step back at the edge of the stairs. You rushed over to help her before she fell backwards, but she had already gone tumbling down.

"Lucille!" you yelled as she rolled down. You rushed down to get her. She landed at the bottom of the stairs, unmoving on the floor as she was knocked unconscious.

You got to the bottom, your vision blurry with tears. "Lucille, wake up," you said, moving her head to your lap. You examined her quickly for any wounds as you panicked. "Lucille!"

It had been two days since the accident. Lucille was in the bed, still unconscious. You'd brought tea to her room like you had been since she fell down the stairs. You tended to her wounds - a broken arm and cuts and bruises all over her. She had a nasty gash on the side of her forehead from a hit. You were surprised she had made it through, but overwhelmingly relieved. You thought you lost her.

You read aloud next to Lucille's bed, it was her favorite book. As you read, she was slowly waking up, her eyes fluttering as she looked around the room. Your voice finally reached her as she made sense of your words. She interrupted as she spoke, speaking into the room that would have otherwise been silent, "That's my favorite."

You turned to her quickly, setting the book down as you offered a small smile. "I know, that's why I chose it."

She fought off a smile before going to sit up, groaning quickly as the pain caught up with her, her aching body protesting her movements.

"Hey, hey, hey. Careful," you eased her back into the bed, propping her up against some pillows, "You were very badly hurt. Your arm is broken and you've got a concussion."

She reached her hand up to her head, feeling the gash that you stitched up after the fall. She winced at the cut and you gave her a sad frown. "How are you feeling?"

She sighed, "Better… Thank you."

You nodded and sighed. There was a question that had been nagging at you since the argument, but you didn't want to bring that up. You were scared she would still make you leave.

Lucille seemed to notice this as she asked, "What is it?"

You sighed, thinking of how to ask. "Lucille…why do you think I should stay away from you?"

She looked down at her arm wrapped in a cast, sighing as she tried to find the words. "Y/N," she said hesitantly, "I have darkness in me."

You told her gently, taking one of her hands in yours, "Everyone has darkness in them."

She nodded a little, "Yes, but… mine is different. It's deeper. It makes me do bad things, terrible things. It makes me a bad person."

You gave her a soft smile and brought her hand to your lips, kissing it gently, "The darker the darkness, the brighter the light. And you, Lucille, are the brightest shine I have ever seen."

She watched you, searching you for any kind of lie. When she saw none in your eyes, she questioned, "Why are you saying these things?"

"Because they're true. I would never lie to you, Lucille. I can't. I…" you trailed off, not exactly knowing what you're going to say.

You sighed, looking back up at her. She asked, "You what?"

You shrugged, "I don't know."

She took her hand from your grasp and moved it to your face. You looked at her, into her eyes with a deep sigh. "You really believe I'm good."

You nodded, "It doesn't matter how much darkness you have, Lucille. Your heart is good."

She smiled at you, it was a smile that made your heart flutter. You glanced at her lips, unable to control yourself as you kissed her then. You immediately pulled back, covering your mouth with the back of your hand as you apologized profusely. "I'm so sorry. I don't know what-"

She stopped you before you could go on a tangent and kissed you again. You sunk into her, your eyes closing as you tasted her lips. It was the best you had ever felt.

You kissed her a little while longer before pulling back for air.

You breathed each other in as you stayed like that. She broke the silence, "Don't go."

You smiled, kissing her again, "I would never… I think…"

"What?" she asked, opening her eyes to look at you. You looked back at her and smiled gently again, "I think I've fallen in love with you."

Lucille smiled this time, unable to hold it back as she responded, "I think I've fallen in love with you, too."

You kissed her again, promising her that you would never leave.

#lucille sharpe x reader #lucille sharpe #crimson peak #crimson peak fanfiction #lucille sharpe fanfiction #fanfiction #request

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mysticmegaraofficial · 3 years ago

Text

A Sham Psychic || Ben & Meg

TIMING: Present. LOCATION: Coffee Plus PARTIES: @professorbcampbell & @mysticmegaraofficial SUMMARY: A ‘psychic’, a cultist, and a spirit walk into a bar.. CONTENT: Body Horror Mentions, Grief Mentions

Looking around the tables of Coffee Plus, Ben settled in his usual corner of the shop with a book and a tall iced coffee. The weather had been unseasonably warm lately, which had put an unfortunate damper on his prospects. Not many people were interested in sitting in a Coffee Shop in the middle of summer. But, he’d keep an eye out anyways. Shifting in the seat that was just a bit too small for his wide frame, Ben looked around at the other patrons with an appraising eye. A woman sipping coffee as she read the newspaper, a young man who looked quite fidgety as he waited for his espresso, and-- Ben’s eyebrows creased together as he took in the woman who was… doing fortune telling? In the corner of Coffee Plus of all places? Whatever she was saying clearly had some kind of an affect on the person she was talking to. Ben watched her, analyzing the way she spoke, the way her eyes moved. A hack. A sham. Incredible, even in White Crest, there were people trying to play the part of the psychic.

Ben watched and waited until the client had slid a crumpled twenty across the table and walked away, visibly shaken. Interesting, interesting. Smiling to himself, Ben took his coffee cup and strolled across the shop towards the woman. “Hello there. Are you doing… fortune tellings?”

“Are you sure?” Jolie’s quiet voice was hard to hear, her shaking hands clasped around her to-go coffee cup. Meg felt sorry for her. Losing a partner so soon after marriage must be one of the hardest things someone could go through. Pierce’s spirit stood over her, disfigured and sad, but mostly full of concern for his wife.

Meg hadn’t planned on doing any readings in Coffee Plus this afternoon. She had just settled down at a corner table when tear stricken Jolie and her ghost husband approached her. Jolie was, apparently, a fan. Please, she said, I’m so lost. Admittedly, Meg usually charged for impromptu readings since she wasn’t keen on using her downtime to do her job. That said, she didn’t charge Jolie anything. This woman wasn’t an excited fan eager to meet a celebrity, this was someone in a lot of pain. Besides, Meg always had a soft spot for crying women anyway.

“I’m sure,” Pierce said. “I just want Jo to be happy. I don’t… I want her to process her grief, and move on. And to look back on our memories together with fondness.”

An emotionally mature ghost was a godsend for Meg. She reached across the table and gripped Jolie’s hand. “I’m sure,” she said, softening her voice. This wasn’t on television, so it didn’t need a big finish. “I see happiness in your future. You’re going to succeed in writing. Publish the novel you’re writing. And even if you don’t form a better relationship with your mother, you will still be happy.” Pierce had very helpfully provided those details for her.

“But --”

Meg smiled at her. “I know it must be difficult for you -- I mean, picturing a life without the one you love? But I can sense Pierce. He longs for you to go through the tunnel of grief and come out the other side. It won’t be okay today or tomorrow and the sadness you feel may never go away completely, but the pit of grief and sadness will shrink so you don’t fall in every time.”

“You’re sure?” Jolie asked. “Do you really see success and happiness?”

Meg nodded. “I do. I promise.”

In the end, Jolie walked away sniffling. She seemed calmer though, not quite at peace and not quite okay, but satisfied with what Meg gave her. Pierce gave her a nod, and followed after her, and both disappeared through the exit of the coffee shop. Meg relaxed a little, and considered grabbing her book from her purse when someone else approached her.

She glanced at the man, taking a sip of her coffee. “Psychic readings,” she corrected. “Fortune telling is a different sort of art. But no -- well, yes. Technically. This was an…” Meg paused, tapping her cheek as she tried to think of the right description. “Fantastic coincidence, me and that woman both being here at the same time.” Meg smiled at him.

“Anyway, were you just curious, or were you looking for a reading?” Meg gestured to the empty chair across from her that Jolie vacated. “I wouldn’t mind company either way.”

Ben hadn’t paid much attention to the woman who had left, but he caught a glimpse of her wiping her eyes as she left the shop. Clearly, whatever this hack had said must have struck a nerve in her. A very emotional one. But how? There was always a trick with these things. Ben had seen a great many things, met a great many creatures that could masquerade as almost human. He was familiar with the werewolves that howled in the night and the vampires who leeched life from the residents of town. But he knew there were no such things as psychics or mind readers. Otherwise, his family would have been found out long ago. Arching a brow in the appearance of interest, Ben asked, “Psychic readings? What exactly does that sort of thing entail?”

A fantastic coincidence. What that meant, Ben had no idea in the slightest. “You know, you’ve piqued my curiosity. If you don’t mind, I’d love to have one done.” And see if I can uncover this sham.

Meg examined him, making sure to keep her face friendly and open as he took the spot across from her. A part of her wanted to make the man cough up cash payment for a reading, but she technically offered and it wouldn’t be fair to charge him anything when her previous guest hadn’t been charged a dime. “I’m so thrilled I’ve managed to pique your interest, ” Meg said. “A psychic reading is … Well, in layman’s terms an attempt to discern information about your past and how it’ll affect your future with my gift -- my heightened perspective of being able to look through the fabric of time and space.”

She reached to take a sip of her iced coffee right when she felt the presence enter the coffee shop. Her stomach sank, brief flashes of the last time an unexpected spirit came into this establishment. Not a great memory for her or anyone else who had been here that day. It wasn’t a poltergeist, though. Meg watched as the girl dressed in fashion Meg herself wore in high school phased through the wall, floating over to their table to examine them, taking her place behind the man. Was this his ghost? Or was she just being a spirit medium magnet again?

“Of course,” Meg continued, “I do have to give you a warning.”

The spirit made eye contact with her, and Meg raised her eyebrows slightly.

“Hello,” the girl said. “You… can see me?”

Meg gave the slightest incline of her head. An unfamiliar expression flashed across the girl’s face.

“... This is Benjamin Campbell. Everyone calls him Ben.”

Meg continued speaking to Ben. “I do real psychic readings - I’m not going to tell you what I think you want to hear. I’m going to tell the truth. And you may not like it.” She was taking a risk with her next question. The ghost may be lying, or producing old information hoping she would fail. Meg was fine with taking risks. “Will that be alright, Mister Campbell? Or do I have permission to call you Ben?”

Ben made himself comfortable in the seat across from the woman, his expresison politely neutral and open as he listened to her prattle on about how she could look through the veil of time and space. As if she could do such a thing. Zombies, vampires, demons, gremlins, and horrifying creatures that could steal the faces of his colleagues? Of course they existed. Psychics? People claiming to peel back the void? Utter garbage. There were no such people, or else His Lord would have warned him. Hrvsht’ooooor had offered all kinds of advice to the Campbells over the years, whispering the ways to avoid detection, describing the sort of creatures who were unfit to be sacrificed to him. Like the walking garbage disposal that Ben had an unwilling alliance with. Psychics did not exist, plain and simple.

Taking a sip from his coffee, Ben watched with mild interest as the woman seemed to stare not at him, but past him. She really was keeping up with this whole act of seeing past the unseen, wasn’t she? Resisting the urge to roll his eyes at her words, Ben smiled instead. “I think I can handle the truth.” He said with a shrug. When he said his name, Ben raised an eyebrow. “You may call me Ben. I hope you don’t think that’s enough to impress me though.” He said, turning the plastic cup of his ice coffee to show the hastily scrawled “Ben” on the side. “And my family is quite well known around town.”

Meg grinned as he turned the coffee cup towards her. Really, she should have caught that, even without the spirit lingering over his shoulder. “You’ll have to forgive me when I say my goal isn’t to impress you,” Meg said with a flippant wave of her hand. “Too many psychics like myself spend far too much time trying to impress people with their gifts -- trying to make people believe them. People will believe whatever they want, regardless of what I say or do. So I just give the truth, and let people take what they will from that.” Still she clapped her hands together. “Fantastic. There are many people who can’t handle the truth. You may call me Meg, by the way.”

“I remember his mother,” the girl said suddenly, and Meg fell silent to listen to the secrets she whispered. His mother. His job. Meg smiled.

“Your mother worked in the front office at the high school. Before my time, of course, but she always had cookies on the table for the kids. Nice lady, everyone loved her.” Meg sipped her coffee. “And you -- work at the college now, right? I suppose I should have said Professor Campbell. Forgive me.”

The woman brushed away the obvious dig with a nonchalant wave of her hand, making Ben’s grin only grow wider. Not in mirth, but in irritation. She was really going to keep up this charade? These sort of scams were just that-- scams. There were tricks, there were ploys, there was subterfuge abound. But he had to admit that her dedication to the act was something else. “Meg. Charming to meet you.” He said with a nod, before taking a sip from his coffee. He watched her expression intently. She wasn’t looking off into space like she had been before, but he could see the slight way her pupils dilated as though she’d been struck with something--

At the mention of his mother, Ben offered a nod. “Yes, my mother did. She also enters the annual bake off every year and, again, we’re quite well known in town. If you know me, you know my mother.” He said with a blasé expression on his face.

Oooh, he didn’t believe a single word she was saying. Amusement grew in Meg, a little more than it should. She was, in fact, a fake psychic with some otherworldly capabilities, so it wasn’t exactly offensive when people could see the actual truth. More often than not, their disbelief was rooted in the special kind of place lots of White Crest citizens resided. “It’s a pleasure,” she confirmed. She leaned back in her chair, nodding along at the information he willingly gave to her. “No wonder all the kids loved her then. You must have great taste in baked goods.”

“He doesn’t believe you,” the girl said, frowning. The spirit seemed far more upset by this than Meg was. Meg was already calculating exactly who Ben was -- rather, making generalizations about his character from his attitude, body language, and the information she had, and was ready to continue on with her reading when the spirit offered her something more.

“You loved to learn -- I mean, you’d have to, if you’re a Professor. But only in the subjects you find interesting. You’re not a Professor of Physics, hm? I see your past -- you making your physics lab partner do all the work for your project. Stellar grade, that A+. A shame Wyatt had to share it with you - naughty.” Meg said teasingly. It was all in good fun, of course. Meg herself had definitely bribed her sister into doing some work for her when they were younger, just like Meg had posed as Willow on request to break up with her boyfriend because she was too scared to do it. Children were funny.

Crossing one leg over the other, Ben leaned back in the chair, his considerable bulk pressing against the back of the thin chair as he regarded the woman. Meg. Her name seemed familiar, but he couldn’t place it. And he certainly didn’t recognize her. She’d confirmed that she was younger than him-- his mother had retired a year after he’d graduated high school, having no other reason to remain in the school district now that her sons were no longer a part of the system. Which meant she was a local. She wasn’t just some drifter who had set up shop in White Crest, drawn by the peculiarities of the town. “My mother’s spoiled me on them, that’s for certain.” He said coolly.

Ben kept his eye trained on Meg’s face as she next spoke. There was something off about this whole thing. She didn’t know this information off the top of her head. It was almost like she was being fed it, like someone was telling her. Ben’s forehead wrinkled in a frown at the woman’s next assertion. What? Physics? He’d taken that class over two decades ago, he couldn’t be bothered to remember every peer he extorted. Of course, he had a feeling it was true, but she didn’t need to know that. “I can’t say I remember that. You’ll have to excuse me, but high school was over twenty years ago for me. I have no idea who Wyatt is.”

“Mother’s do tend to do that,” Meg agreed, her easy smile still on her face. I can’t say I remember that. Possibly the truth, especially if high school was twenty years in the past for him. Meg quietly cheered to herself. She was younger than him. High School was what? Fifteen years for her. She knew that eye cream she bought did wonders for her. Before she could continue on, the spirit spoke again, her flash of anger causing the lights to flicker ever so slightly. Meg crossed her legs, leaning forward on her elbows as the spirits whispers floated to her ears.

“Wyatt Miller, he was one of your teammates from when you played Football. I think he was the one who… What was it? Fumbled the ball during the state championship?” Meg’s smile widened. She was actually enjoying this reading quite a bit. Benjamin didn’t seem like he was exactly pleasant, and she found just a tiny bit of joy knowing she was right about everything she was saying. “You threw your helmet at him. Chucked it even, you were so angry… It was scary.” Meg echoed the spirit, head tilting to the side. “Are you an angry person, Benjamin? When things don’t go your way? You should watch your temper. You never know when it could get you into trouble.”

Ben was about to respond when he noticed the way the lights in the coffee shop began to flicker. What was that? A trick of the light or just some theatrics? This woman must have a friend on the inside, someone who was manipulating the lights in the back of the store to make it seem as though she had some kind of “power.” How else would they be doing that. And, as the woman spoke up once more, Ben knew that she had to have an informant. Someone from his high school days. Someone with a keen memory, or maybe just a vendetta against him.

Ben kept his expression pleasantly amused as his mind raced. Who was she? And more importantly, who was her informant? Who was telling her these things about him? Because, if they had as long a memory as it seemed, they would need to be dealt with swiftly. He couldn’t have his high school antics coming back to haunt him, not when he was so focused on his goal. If this wasn’t a public place, if this woman wasn’t… visible. Oh, he would love to watch her bleed for Hrvsht’ooooor. Not die, that was an honor she wasn’t worthy of. But bleed and beg and suffer for Him? Ben would love to see that. Instead, he stood up with a shake of his head, chuckling. “High school emotions run high. Teenage emotions. Everyone gets a little out of hand at that age.” He said with a rueful expression on his face. “I shudder to think what life would be like if we were to judge everyone on their highschool personas.” He said before casting a shrug in her direction. “Tell your friend, or whoever told you about me, that I’d love to meet them. It’d be nice to catch up on old times.”

He seemed amused, which kept the light airy talk between them. Ben clearly didn’t believe her, and it was almost funny watching him wash everything off as typical high school antics. “That’s true, I suppose. Too much testosterone and puberty,” Meg said. But she couldn’t help the cheeky grin that came across her face as she finally leaned back in her chair, reaching down to pull out the book she was reading. “You’re ending the reading early,” she told him. “Why? Are you afraid I’ll find a secret you don’t want anyone to find out about? Are you hiding something you don’t want me to see?” The question was innocent enough and left unanswered. Meg laughed under her breath, shaking her head as she opened her book to continue where she left off the previous night.

“He’s not my friend,” the spirit said suddenly, and Meg looked up, brows furrowed. She had forgotten the girl was there. The girl wasn’t looking at her anymore though, she was looking in the direction Ben had walked off towards. After a moment, the spirit turned and walked away from the table. She didn’t seem interested in Meg at all. She was going to call out to her, but the second she caught sight of her back, Meg’s voice caught in her throat.

The girl’s spine and back of her rib cage were pried open, sticking out every which way. Translucent organs stuck out, unseen from the front. Meg was never a great at anatomy, but she was pretty sure the only thing missing were the girl’s lungs. Meg’s eyes narrowed, and she couldn’t help but glance off in the direction Benjamin went.

A coincidence, surely. Right?

#wickedswriting #para #para ben #ben

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hoodoo12 · 4 years ago

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Festival (11/30)

It’s not all smutty fun and games. Some participants have other things on their minds . . .

@beetlebitchywitch @beejiesbitch @turtlepated @clairjohnson @memedemonhours @monsterlovinghours @yankyo @edosunshine @go-commander-kim @saucymangos

Jessie couldn't keep the smile off her face as Ollie led her from the pile of smaller fey. She had to admit there was something charming about being seen as something exotic. She'd never felt she could be seen that way before, having been either ignored or outright mistreated for much of her life prior to having met Beetlejuice. She'd learned to feel genuinely attractive with him, the way he never seemed to tire of her body. To have others who didn't know a thing about her wanting to respectfully fuck her was unprecedented, and she rather enjoyed the confidence boost.

She hardly noticed when the brownie following them turned back, instead looking forward, up, and around them as he led her on. She listened attentively, smiling and giggling sometimes when he would need to refer back to Gaelic in his descriptions and explanations. Holding tight to his hand as he led her amidst the revelers, Jessie listened to him with a passionate curiosity, observing the different fey, couplings and dancing. She looked pleasantly surprised when the fawn lowered down to get a look at her. Her heart was pounding in her chest with excitement by the time Ollie had helped her down from the creature's head.

Her jaw dropped a bit at the sight of the centaur's cock, and she laughed aloud , shaking her head a little.

"I don't know if I'd be able to do much with a dick that big, honey. I appreciate the vote of confidence though," she chuckled, pulling him close, chest to chest. Her lips pressed to his tenderly for a moment, though she didn't want to distract him much, worried that they'd end up getting squished if she took too much of his attention out in the open.

"I've never been to something like this before, it's all so new... and it's rather a lot of fun. Thank you, sweetie . . . I don't know how you managed to do this, but . . . I'm really glad I get to share this time with you . . . glad that you get to experience more of me. You saved my life, and made it better with your company . . . I cherish you, honey."

She nuzzled the tip of his nose and kissed him again sweetly. "You know, hun, if you can find a cozy little spot for us to be alone . . . I'd love to take our time. Focus on you, y'know? The others are interesting and all but . . . I'm here for you, Ollie."

She didn't notice the man who'd followed them, either, blocking out the others who stared in her desire to make him understand that her focus was on him, truly.

Could his heart burst? He knew of selkies forced to stay with men who stole their skins, who wasted away pining for the ocean. They weren’t given a choice. But he, despite being grabbed by the big bastard out of nowhere, *wanted* to be exactly where he was now, accepted and happy with his odd little family. Jessie’s offer was too good to pass up, and he stepped up against her, kissing her feverishly to try and pour how he felt into her. Her body was warm against his skin. He’d received too many kisses to count from her previously, but to to be the same size, to properly be able to touch her tongue with his, for her to be as affectionate with him as she was with Beetlejuice, left him breathless. He kept her close as the kiss waxed and waned, and when it broke off naturally, he smiled. “A spot for us?” he asked without needing an answer.

He didn’t want to get too close to the centaur and his harem of squealing and moaning women, so he cast a glance around and noted an unoccupied place that was near one of the smaller fires. The grasses were still taller there, so no one had stepped on them. It’d be perfect for a private tryst. Ollie kissed Jessie again then laced his fingers through hers to begin leading her to the patch of grass. They’d not gotten more than a few steps before out of nowhere he was grabbed by the back of the neck and yanked up off the ground. Startled, he didn’t even have time to tighten his grip on Jessie’s hand before his fingers slipped out of hers. He screeched and flailed, and felt a surge of fear for Jessie, still on the ground, just as surprised as he was.

“You are a leprechaun!” a man crowed gleefully, as Ollie was hoisted face level with him.

⁂

At the acceptance of Carmen's answer, Beej grinned and levitated both himself and his lover, curling around her back and sucking at the back of her neck even as her body lost contact with the ground below.

As he lifted them both, he slipped his legs between hers and gripped her tits to steady her, even as a third hand reached between his legs to angle his cock head up against the entrance of her pussy. He lifted his own legs, spreading them wide to expose the pussy beneath the length of his cock, glistening already with slick and squeezing on nothing in invitation.

He winked at BJ from over Carmen's shoulder as his fingertips plucked and pinched her nipples playfully, keeping her upright so that should she want to hold or kiss the other she would be free to do so. He adjusted their height, keeping her legs spread using his own and presenting himself at the height of BJ's cock in a relaxed standing position, and the hand that had held his cock to aim it for him slipped down to part the lips of his pussy.

"Don't have to worry 'bout hurtin' me either. Can fuck as hard 'n deep as you like, it'll just milk more come into 'er," he murmured, finally leaning back a bit and sliding his hands from Carmen's tits to her back to offer her support to sit up on his shaft. He bounced his hips, letting his cock's head press tight against the back of her pussy with the force of her body weight as he held them suspended.

His female clone, noting at the other two seemed to be in the position her original intended, pulled slowly back off of BJ's cock, pressing a reverent kiss to his tip with her plump lips.

"What do you say, handsome? You wanna stuff that pussy full of cock and fill it up with every drop in your balls?" she asked, nuzzling the underside of his shaft and taking both of his balls into her mouth, tongue swirling around his sack. She pulled off of them with a pop to add,

"And if you'd like anything from me, either of you," she glanced to Carmen, "just say the word, I am here to please, after all."

Beej, noting that he had never properly introduced his clone, looked to BJ.

"She's a clone of mine, a part of me. Physical manifestation of part of my personality. Don't need to have her out if it's crowded here, figured you appreciate the female figure more 'n mine, just wanted ta offer more variety," he explained.

Despite the way he spoke, his clone seemed entirely unbothered and opened here mouth, looking up at BJ and Carmen. The sight of the latter changed the shapes in her eyes from stars to hearts, and she reached one arm up to tenderly stroke the length of her calf.

Being lifted and shifted again, a smooth dance that ended with her giggling that became a gasp as Beej’s cock stretched her open made Carmen shudder more fully and groan. His movements, creating a subtle bounce that kept him deep inside her thanks to gravity made it difficult for a moment to concentrate on anything but the sweet pleasure that erupted in her belly again. She clutched at his thighs for a moment, for stability, but as Beej’s hands roamed her she pushed herself upright and leaned back a little. No longer worried about being exposed in front of anyone here, this felt right, being fully on display, wanton and euphoric. Clenching her pussy as tightly around him as she could, she rolled her lower back to help provide friction. She’d also liked to have run her hand over his cock, to feel where he fit inside her and even dip down further to finger his clit, but the other ghost took a step forward in between their legs. Instead of feeling embarrassed or jealous, words rang in her head-- “fuck as hard 'n deep as you like, it'll just milk more come into 'er~”--and that was exactly what she wanted: Beej’s come, as much as it could go into her and fill her up. BJ licked his lips at the buffet laid out in front of him. With Jessie, he was the shapeshifter, the accommodating one, and to have someone else literally offer whatever he might desire was heady. He loved what he could provide and what he did with Jessie, but this was a special night. She was indulging with Ollie, so why not take advantage of what was offered?

Without another moment’s hesitation, BJ took his cock in hand and nudged it between Beej’s lips. It felt like a wet pussy--not warm, like a breather’s, but familiar nonetheless. He pulled himself through the slick a few times, liking to hear the gasp as he brushed the other ghost’s clit. Then, as everyone seemed to hold their breath in anticipation, he took another step closer, and eased himself without pause into the cunt. Carmen groaned because Beej groaned and his fingers tightened on her. She reached for his feminine clone, unsure if the two men she was semi-caught between were going to be so rough taking their pleasure she’d be unseated. Pulling her closer for support, Carmen couldn’t help but twist enough for a kiss, and couldn’t help slipping her tongue into the clone’s mouth even as she continued to moan.

⁂

Ollie looked so happy that it made Jessie's heart swell. She wished that her biofeedback worked the same for fey as it did for humans and ghosts . . . and whatever her previous lover had been. She moaned low in her throat as Ollie stepped closer to her, holding her tight to his body that fit so nicely against hers in this new stature that she had to admit, she actually rather enjoyed.

She stroked his back as their tongues danced in their mouths, no effort required to pour passion and loving intent into the kiss, though she did still wish he could feel the depth of her appreciation and adoration, the way she knew BJ would have been able to.

Her wondering about the nature of fey and why they seemed so incompatible with the light inside her was ended by his verbal confirmation that he understood what she'd requested. She returned his kiss happily, and blushed as his fingers interlaced with hers, despite the odd number of digits. She held it comfortably and made to follow him.

The sudden grasp of a hand from above that hoisted him up and caused him to screech and thrash set a blaze in her stomach as she looked up at whomever had so rudely taken him from her. She'd lost her grip on his hand and remained on the ground as a man she didn't know lifted Ollie to his face.

She was rushed with anger and felt near powerless as he was lifted so high away from her. But . . . she wasn't powerless. With her brow furrowed in agitation, she glared at the man's shoulder, focusing hard on the location before using her power to deposit herself on it, next to the shell of his ear.

Her tiny hands grabbed his earlobe forcefully, and she stomped on his shoulder to get his attention.

"Excuse me! Who are you, and why wouldn't you even ask if you could pick him up? It's fucking rude," she bellowed beside his ear, her anger held tight inside her as she tried to avoid feeding rage in someone significantly larger than herself.

Ollie had no idea who this person was. He continued to writhe impotently in the man’s grip, desperate to escape. His initial startle faded to rage and he ranted in Gaelic at the man, promising nothing but hardship and despair and misfortune. If he’d been angry at Beetlejuice plucking him up, it was nothing like the atomic rage that coursed through him now. The man laughed at him like he was nothing as he examined him. “You’re special. First generation, right? Direct from Ireland. I’ve been wanting a leprechaun--”

Ollie continued to spit, but slowed when Jessie herself appeared on the man’s shoulder, shouting at him too. He didn’t want whatever this man’s purpose was to turn to her; if he was a novelty, she was nothing short of a miracle, even in a gathering like this. Desperately, he tried to think of a way out of this mess.

Out of nowhere, just how it seemed this man appeared, the faun who’d taken polite interest in Jessie was there. It cocked its head and bleated, drawing the man’s attention away for a split second. Scowling in annoyance, the man kicked at the faun. The faun scampered away. Still annoyed, the man brushed at Jessie dismissively like she was a gnat, keeping his eyes on Ollie. If he’d just avert his gaze for a second, he might have enough strength left to disappear from his fingers. It’d be difficult to find Jessie again for a little bit, but that was a better price to pay than being trapped like this.

“I don’t want gold,” the man laughed, like Ollie was going to try an bargain his way to freedom. “You’re just coming with me--”

“Hey!”

A woman’s voice interrupted him. Ollie wiggled as best he could to try and see the who this may be. It took him a moment, but then he realized it was the woman who had spoken to him in Jessie’s hood the store! The one who had given him lychees!

Fully nude, areas of her skin glistening and others a little crusty from obvious come, the short woman stomped up beside the man. The little faun accompanied her. “What do you think you’re doing?! Put him down right now!”

The man’s back stiffened. “You can’t talk to Lucien Stone that way, witch! I’m a Warlock of the First Order and you have no right--”

At their raised voices, people began to look over.

She dropped her chin. “I’m Eve Fairborne-LaBeau, warlock, and I know exactly who you are. Andy Clarke. Put him down right now!”

The warlock lifted his lip and puffed himself up, obviously ready to laugh in her face like he had Ollie’s. Eve stared him down, and he seemed to become aware that others had stopped their celebrations and were starting to turn to them. Their faces were not friendly either.

“Third time is a dangerous number to make me repeat myself,” Eve said quietly. A very faint tremor rolled the soil under their feet. “Are you willing to suffer the consequences?”

Lucien--Andy--scowled again but did not make her carry through her threat. Carefully he set Ollie back down on the ground. Jessie quickly joined him, hugging him to her as they backed away. As the warlock stood again, Eve nodded sharply. “Excellent decision. Now leave. You’ve damaged some of the energy of this celebration and are not welcome any longer.” With his lips still twisted, Lucien--Andy--opened his mouth to argue that point, but several more fauns crowded around Eve, as did other witches and Richard. A minotaur also stepped closer, to add his bulk to the folks who wanted this warlock gone. With a dismissive wave, he turned to go. Eve stepped after him, to put herself in between Ollie and Jessie as he passed them. There was silence as people who were aware of the altercation watched him walk out of the circle, muttering under his breath as he went. Eve held her hand up and an imp flew into it, like a falcon to a glove. She whispered to it, “Stay with him please. I want to make sure he actually leaves and doesn’t bother anyone else.”

tbc . . .

#writing #fanfiction #Movie Beetlejuice #Musical Beetlejuice #Beetlejuice x OC #Beetlejuice x Beetlejuice #long fic #rp #festival #OC x OC

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oh-theres-a-woman · 5 years ago

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War Melodies on the Gramophone

A/N: Once more, the attention on my stories are greatly appreciated and bring fullness to my heart. Today, I give you another story. Maybe one more tonight if I’m feeling inspired enough. This one is set before the time of season one, in the beginning, then finishes at the start of season two. Please feel free to share, comment or request something else. Much love! xxx

Taglist: @zodiyack , @itsfrancisneptun , @shelbys-we-get-the-job-done & @fandom-fucking-shit

Pairing: Thomas “Tommy” Shelby X Female Reader

Word Count: 1733

Edit: PART 2 is available now! Enjoy everyone. Thank you for all the love! It really means the world and so much more.

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You were a combat nurse on the Western Front, through the muddy earth that was mixed so heavily with blood. Time was spent patching up the boy’s and broken men to be blown back to hell once more. Shooing them away to meet the bullets and fire of the enemy. Ones that were too far gone were buried or sent home to your mother England.

How you longed to see the homeland once more, to be away from the thick smell of death, blood, rot and mud. To sleep a full night without being awoken by the shaking earth. When shells hit. Cries and wailing men who longed to be home like yourself. If one ever thought that war brought glory again, you’d daringly and happily throw them in the cot to drown. This war had already reaped too much to bestow glory and make one enjoy the angst and grief felt.

You stood outside on one of your rare breaks, lighting a cigarette. Prescribed by yourself for the clear nerves and torment that was suffered here. It was at that point you didn’t quite know what the white apron looked like anymore. So stained with blood and no matter how much you tried to wash it. Forever the bloody thing seemed stained an awful shade between red and pink. Hands quaked as you held your stick, inhaling taking in a momentary taste of nicotine instead of the dense air. Flicking ash off onto the sodding earth, where your eyes wandered out to the men that were working away carrying wounded up to the field hospital.

“How bad are they today, boys?” You asked on approach, tucking the fast-burning cigarette with no filter between sore chapped lips. Wisps of your hair bellowed around your face in the cool winds. Whipping the scent of strong sulphur into your nostrils. Making them burn more than they did with the smoke.

“Pretty bad, [y/n].” Said one of the lads guiding men into tents to be seen. What was one to expect? That they had been less torn than others? It seemed no longer hope to see men in one piece. Accustomed to the horrors of the lame, limbless and insane. Every day was another picture printed in your memory saying otherwise.

Snubbing out the cigarette out with the heel of your boot. You watched as the embers tried to dart outward but were suffocated by the mud. That mud suffocated everything, even yourself…

Stepping back into the tent, your eyes wandered to the bodies laid out on beds. Nurses and doctors hurrying around making this expendable. Every effort to save a life meant something. Thrown back into the line of rapid work. You didn’t even notice how the tent dulled the sound of everything going on outside.

You were stationed in the bed of another English man. Working on the shot wound in his chest. Removing the piece of metal from him with excellent care. Honestly, it was a wonder what your little hands could do when they stopped shaking and got to work. He was a tunneler by the way he was dressed and how dirt, not mud, clung to his body. “What’s your name, soldier?” You asked in a country accent telling the man you hailed near his birthplace of Birmingham.

“Thomas, Thomas Shelby.” He commented in a weak voice, it was dry and rough. Like a voice after having a few too many cigarettes or held up in a state of grief. You knew there was certainly enough of them both here. “What’s yours?” He asked as you began to clean the wound that had been inflicted on the flesh of the man’s physical body. Moments in these, people would normally say a prayer muttering that his spiritual form won’t be maimed and infection wouldn’t take root and rot his soul. However, spiritually be damned in your eyes.

It had caused too much pain and hurt to believe in a place like this. Surely the man below you didn’t believe either. It was too hard to believe in them all. All of you were going to meet a grim end or be taken prisoner, that’s what you thought. A lot of little boys playing soldier and big boy heroes were going to be left broken and shaken. A scar on the generation and age of which you come from. Likewise. You’d go home broken if you did at all.

Lulled back into the context of the conversation, but the man’s dry smoker’s cough. You looked into his crystal blue eyes and then spoke. “Miss [y/n], a pleasure to meet you, Mister Shelby.” You did speak honestly, it was always nice to meet the soldiers, just a pity in what manner of meeting them. The pains they must suffer to be bought into the off-white field hospital tent. Carefully, slipping a tablet under the man’s tongue. “That’s for the pain, we’ll have you patched up in a jiffy, I promise.” You told him calmly. He only weakly gave a nod then grunted in pain.

Delicate fingers and tools finally released the bullet, tossing it onto a tray. Then working quickly on the mend. Cleaning thoroughly, and stitching the wound. Pressing the area to stop the final bleed. You left him to rest for a time before they sent the officer away in need to the bed again. No one seemed to have the luxury of resting too long in a war. Instead, you made your mind up to watch over the man and make sure that the wound was healing.

Often climbing down the deep pits of the tunnels, you met with a lot of the men down there. Checking on their wounds and health. Doing the assessment in rare sparing time. It made a bond grow between you and the Birmingham man known as Tommy or Tom by friends. He gave you a pet name too. It was sweet and made you feel somewhat more alive in the fuss and pain. Seeing the tunnelers began to be something you itched for every day. A breakaway from the noise-cancelling tent or the sulphur thick air above ground. To be hidden down in the humid tunnels underground. Talking with men, making sure all was well.

At war’s end, you stood with many young women and men. Watching as the last of the bullets were fired. Shells rattling the earth. It happened to be some time since you’d seen the likes of Thomas Shelby. All the tunneler boys in truth. Shelby left a soft place in the final piece of softness in your heart though. He held the merit and dreams of most men that had been fighting in the beginning. However, France had killed the boy within him with made your soul mourn for the boy-child spirit that would be left in the bloody mud of the Western Front.

---

Goodbyes of that day still remain even over a year on from war’s end. Some paranoid people believe another war is to come from this one. Of course, you hope not. Yet, the state of the tied up affairs in the war wasn’t neat and tidy. Germany did suffer harsher conditions than most. Mostly due to the prejudice caused by the cousin nation, losses made people angry and craving blood. The blood you still spent long wholes mopping up and cleaning as a stationed nurse in a London hospital.

Preparing however for the new transfer to Small Heath, Birmingham a place that you’d long forgotten. But not that man that still weighed heavy on your heart. Come Saturday evening, the train into Birmingham wasn’t packed, nor quiet. It had been situated that there would be a small townhouse that you’d be staying at with other registered nurses in the area. The unmarried ones, at least. Holding your bags you walked to the address, shown to a room by one of the lovely ladies you were living with. All present had proposed a night at the Garrison for drinks in celebration of your arrival.

The jolly frolic in the evening didn’t seem at all a bad idea. More so, refreshing. You hadn’t taken many chances to enjoy yourself anymore after the war. So, this would be an ample opportunity. So, all dolled up and pampered. You strolled down the streets with the ladies gushing and giggling with the Small Heath gossips. Many fans of the bad boys in town, the Peaky Blinders.

You didn’t remember why this name meant anything. Shaking away the thought, in the time of being merry and joyous. Listening to tales and laughs from the girls. Sipping on your drink, the air alive with cheerful drunkards or the occasional fight that had the girls and yourself pushed up against the bar to get out of the crossfire. Unknown to you who was watching from the private booth door. Struck dead like he’d seen a ghost after all this time. A time when the war left a feeling of wanting to forget in his soul.

Thomas Shelby swallowed the bile rising in his throat, stepping out of the salvation and privacy of his private booth. With one goal at that moment. To come to you. At wars end, he came searching for you. But never had a name to go off. He remembered the little pet-name he gave you. Nothing else. Well, he remembered your beauty but not your full name.

“What’s a pretty girl like you doing in dusty ol’ Birmingham, aye?” He asked with a cock of his brow, a rise in his voice. Holding a sure hope. A wilder smile tugged on your cheek. Truer than anything expressed for the entirety of the whole night. Stepping forward daring you touched him, then followed with a sincere searing kiss. That shocked most of you company, patrons and Tommy’s family in the private booth.

“Off to pick up a man I left down in a dark hole,” you said smoothly. Voice sweeter than the drink on your lips. The smell of tobacco, lilac perfume and drink clung to you. Tommy looked smart and handsome. Just as you pictured him if you saw him again one day. In the following moments, no one spoke when the pair left the bar, once more in the cool of the night. Walking hand in hand. No desired destination. Just anywhere away from people. Just you and Thomas focking Shelby.

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waywardwrestlewritingwaif · 4 years ago

Text

The Guardian’s Oath, Part Two

Here’s the second part in the series! You can read the first part here (and you probably should, since it won’t make any sense otherwise and because there are some plot points in there that will come up again later).

Pairing: Feargal Devitt/ Finn Balor x OFC

Word count: 2,978

Content advisory: Nothing for this part, however there is adult content to come in later sections, so if you’re underage or prefer to avoid sexual material, you might as well spare yourself the time and effort of reading these early sections.

I rose early the next morning, my body aching from fruitless attempts to get comfortable enough to do more than doze off for a few minutes. The children were still in bed but Kate was already hard at work in the kitchen. Seeing my face, she quickly prepared me a cup of coffee.

“Are you having a time of it trying to sleep, dear?” she inquired.

I gave a wan little smile. “It just feels quite different than what I’m used to. I’ll get used to it soon enough.”

She fried some toast in the skillet with bacon fat and served me, Telling me a little of her life and of Bray as we sat in the kitchen together. I learned that the reason people referred to both “the town” and “the village” was to differentiate the newer and more prosperous area- the town- from the older settlement that had been home to the tenant serfs dating back to when the area had been part of a large estate. Kate had lived her whole life in the town, while Susan, who I had yet to meet, was from the village. The way she put it, it felt like the difference between the two parts of Bray marked everything, down to two women who both made their living as servants.

Susan arrived at six-thirty. She was younger than either Kate or I, although taller by some measure than either of us. She gave a friendly greeting and her pleasant demeanor lasted until she began to sort through the basket of clothing to be washed.

“Not again,” she grumbled. “They’ve gone out in the rain and just look at the state of these stockings! I’ll never get the grass stains out!”

“Mind your tongue, Sue,” Kate cautions her in a kindly enough tone. “They’re children. Even the best ones can’t help but get into some mischief.”

As she turned to say more to the girl, I saw her expression change.

“Miss Miles, did you not have any of your own clothing to be washed?”

“I didn’t want to trouble anyone. I can wash them myself. I’m afraid that there’s sand and salt on them and I didn’t want to make any more work for…”

Susan gave an exasperated sigh.

“You’ll have your hands more than full with the children, ma’am. Susan, go collect Miss Miles’ clothing from the garrett and add that to the washing.

Susan made a show of balancing the already full basket on her hip and her footfalls were heavy as she proceeded to mount the stairs to the attic.

“I should have gone to fetch them myself.”

“Don’t let her moods get to you,” Kate answered. “She’s a good girl but she’s got a lazy streak. If you give in to her, you’ll end up doing all her work as well as your own.”

Eager to change the subject, I decided to tell her of my discussion with the children the night before.

“The children were regaling me with other stories of Bray before I could get them to sleep last night. Stories of all the fairies and monsters you have here.”

“Oh yes,” she sighed, “they do love their stories. A bit too much if you ask me, although I’m partly to blame because I’ve told them enough myself.”

“They recited a dark little rhyme for me about something named Finn Balor that can’t have helped me sleep any.”

Kate pursed her lips as Susan flounced back through the kitchen and out the back door, my clothes piled on top of the others.

“They’ve heard that from her,” she muttered with a sharp glance back towards where Susan had exited. “I’ll tell them some stories my grandmother used to tell me but she goes telling them all manner of ghoulish things and getting them all excited over it. They’d no business bringing it up to you.”

“Oh it was just one of the things they wanted to share, like the ghost in the cemetery or the Bog Queen. We have a version of her where I come from too. I believe Balor must be unique to this place, or to the coast. Is it a common story?”

“Common enough, certainly. It’s the sort of thing parents tell their children or young women to frighten them. But Master William and Miss Sophia seem to delight in that sort of thing.”

“Well I hope that I can find some healthier outlets for their imagination.”

Kate collected the mugs and my plate and took them to the sink.

“I suppose I should go and wake the children so that we can get their lessons started.”

As I rose, I saw Kate staring at me. Her face was tilted and filled with concern and her fists closed tightly on her apron.

“Their father, the Reverend, is as good, as gentle and as pure a man as God ever made,” she began haltingly. “I liked to think that I come from good folk but he is truly unmatched in his character.”

I started to agree with her but she spoke again, her tone darkening a little.

“The children, though, have a little too much of their mother in them. She was… she was a wild animal. I know I’ve no business speaking of my former mistress this way but you’ll hear it from the townspeople asif you don’t hear it from me. He brought her back from a mission to the Brittany coast and she was peculiar at the best of times. I’ll not burden you with any stories but I can tell you that no other man would have indulged her the way Reverend Devitt did. He treated her well throughout her life and mourned her passing with his whole heart.

“I would never say that the children are bad. They are smart and they can be as gentle as angels. But they do have her blood in them and it makes them prone to a certain amount of… mischief and trickery. And I beg your pardon for speaking so far beyond my station but I know that the other governesses have struggled to take them in hand.”

I shook my head to indicate that I had no problem with her speaking in this way. “How many other governesses have there been?”

“You’re the fourth ma’am.”

“The fourth? How long ago was it that their mother passed?”

“She died when Miss Sohpia was five and her brother four.”

My jaw slacked a little. “There have been four governesses in four years?”

“They are good children but they are always easy to manage. I told you when you first arrived that I felt right away that you could be at home here. I believe I can see a spark in you that the others lacked and I would hate to see your chance to flourish thwarted when I could have offered you a warning. Treat the children with a sense of caution and keep in mind that they are prone to tricks and mischief, more so than they should be. Don’t be afraid to assert yourself.”

I nodded and thanked her before ascending the stairs to rouse my young charges.

Over the next days, as I settled into the best pace for their lessons, I could see the truth in Kate’s words: much as they had on that first night I had read to them alone, the two of them had little routines designed to lead me where they wanted to get me. They were innocent enough but it made me wonder how far they could push their advantage. It also made me wonder about their mother and what strangeness they might have inherited from her.

They were fast learners, and the greatest challenge was keeping them from growing bored. It was when they were bored that their tendency to misbehave presented itself. Both of them loved hiding things the other needed and making them work clues to find it. Both loved seeing how far they could push a rule imposed on them without actually breaking it. I had to admit that even their bad behavior was interesting because there was so much thought put into it. After a couple of months, I started to come up with puzzles and games of my own to help them remember and focus on what we were learning. I knew that this would have been frowned on by any school and by most other employers. I gambled that Reverend Devitt would be unlikely to question any method that saw his children happy to be learning.

The times the Reverend was at home were brief but I treasured all of them. Those times were dominated by the church service on Sunday mornings over which he presided. He went early and we would follow afterward, taking our places near the front, the children and me, as if we were all a family. I loved that hour of the week when I sat looking up at him, flanked by his angelic-looking children. Even more, though, I loved that he almost always invited me to join them for dinner, as if I were an equal. His attention was focused on his son and daughter, of course, but I was never left out and as he saw how much and how quickly they were learning, his warmth toward me grew greater than ever.

Once when he was back for more than just the day, we packed a picnic lunch and made our way to a rugged area along the water, just past the crescent beach where I had first seen the ocean. I tried to preoccupy myself with the children but it was the height of summer and they only wanted to run around, leaving me for an extended period alone with my employer.

“Please be careful,” I pleaded with William as he deposited a couple of new shells for his collection onto the blanket. “The path down to the beach is steep and rocky here. You could fall and hurt yourself.”

William was off again without another word. I was about to call to him but the Reverend waved his hand to indicate I shouldn’t bother.

“Let him work off his energy,” he sighed. “The tide’s out, so if he falls making his way down the hill, maybe the scrapes will teach him the lesson he needs.”

“I just worry that he could-”

“Helen,” he insisted, “they’re children. And you worry too much.”

“I’m sorry, Reverend,” I murmured. “I just don’t want to see any kind of harm befall them, no matter how small.”

“It’s Feargal,” he said softly, leaning back on his arms and regarding me through his long lashes. “I prefer you to call you Helen and I would prefer you to call me Feargal.”

“Of course, sir.”

He laughed and rolled onto his side to face me. “I owe you a debt of gratitude, Helen,” he told me. “You’ve been a marvel with the children. I’ve always known they were smart but they’ve never learned as fast or as well as they have with you. Most times when I’ve come home, they’ve found something to grouse about with their governesses, but with you, it’s quite the opposite. They adore you. And Kate loves you, by the way. She always makes a point of telling me what a humble, kind woman you are.”

“I am greatly flattered,” I answered, desperately wanting him to say he had similar feelings for me. “I can’t imagine that anyone could be unhappy working in your home and with your children.”

“I assure you, it’s possible,” he said wistfully.

I thought he might say more but William and Sophia rushed up, dropping handfuls of seaweed on the blanket. Some bits were dry, but most was sodden and stunk. I tried to hide my distaste for the scent but William and his father spotted it right away and teased me a little. We all laughed and I told myself that I would adjust to things such as these strange plants over time.

“Look at this one!” William exclaimed, scrabbling up next to me and brandishing a new specimen. “Look at these!”

The weed he held was unlike the others he’d brought. It was still soaked but it was built like a vine and it was covered in blister-like growths. I found this one even nastier than the others and my face showed it, even though I tried to contain my dislike.

“Watch!” William ordered.

He pressed down hard on one of the blisters and it popped, the viscous contents spraying out and hitting my face. I made a sound, muffled slightly because I didn’t want to open my mouth in case some of the weed guts fell into it.

Sophia laughed delightedly but the Reverend upbraided his son.

“That was terrible behavior. I think it’s time I took a switch to the back of you again.”

William looked terrified and I heard Sophia give a little gasp.

“No, please, sir. It’s just a plant. I overreacted.”

“You’re too kind, Miss Miles. But if I catch any more behavior like that, I can assure you that a hiding will follow.”

There was a moment of silence, after which William tossed his seaweed samples off to the side and wound his arms around my waist. I let my arm rest on his shoulder, unsure of the appropriate amount of affection to show in my position. He clung tighter and I rubbed circles on his shoulder, trying to quell the nervous tension I felt in his arms.

During the summer, I often delayed going to bed. The garrett was pleasant enough but it was hot even if I opened the window. I was much happier to retire to the drawing room once the children were in bed, where I could write in my journal or read a little. I had finally settled in enough that I was able to sleep a little but the heat robbed me of that. I tried to fight through the fatigue and nerves but sometimes it overwhelmed me.

One such night, Kate could see that I was in such an overtired state that she insisted on putting the children to bed herself, so that I could rest in the drawing room in peace for a little. It was not quite dark, although the sun had gone. I could see the last streaks of light trailing towards the west, the last traces of a glorious summer day.

Looking out the window, I saw a dark figure next to the gate. My first thought was that it was an itinerant laborer from the village looking for any work he could find. It wasn't unusual for them to stop at the cottage, but none had ever passed so late. My only other thought was that he was a gypsy hawking door to door. I'd seen a few near the town. I'd never seen one alone, or in this area, but I knew very little of their ways.

I watched the man for a few minutes and realized that he was making no move towards or away from the house. He stayed still and silent. If Mr. Jones had been there, I would have dispatched him to deal with the situation but the gardener had gone home for the night. I didn't want to confront a strange man on my own but I felt a sense of danger coming from him. I had been charged with caring for the two children and that meant protecting them.

I stepped outside and waved my hand to get his attention.

"You there! What do you want?"

He showed no sign that he'd seen or heard me and so I walked a few steps on the path towards him. In the distance, I could hear the waves crashing and the branches of the trees clattered overhead, but the wind seemed light in the yard, so there was no chance the man did not hear me when I called to him again. Nevertheless, he paid no attention and I was forced to approach closer still.

As I did, I observed that he was striking at the gate post with his hand. It took me a moment to see that he was holding a rock and that he was actually marking the post with a few scratchy lines.

"What do you think you're doing?" I demanded, stopping just out of arm's reach. "Move on and don't let me catch you hanging around this place again."

It was difficult for me to see much of his face, for he wore a brimmed hat that kept most of it in shadow. He had on layers of clothing, completely inappropriate to the heat, that appeared old and dirty. I thought his face remarkably dark but when I looked at his hand, still grasping the rock he'd been using to mark our gate post, it seemed like there was dirt clinging to his skin as well.

"I told you to be off," I snapped.

For the first time, he reacted to me, a sneer crossing his lips. His eyes flickered in my direction, shaded by his hat, and some ugly, guttural sound came from his throat. I could smell a mix of salt and leather and smoke hovering like a pungent blanket around him.

The sneer spread and I could see a quick flash of teeth before he tightened his grip on the rock and raised his hand.

I gave a little cry and took a quick step back, believing he was about to hurl it at me. However, he simply lowered the hand and placed the rock on the post before disappearing in total silence. I went over and pushed the rock away, tossing it to the far side of the street. There were three parallel lines roughly scratched and nothing else.

#finn balor imagine #finn balor fanfic #wrestling imagine #wwe fanfiction #nxt fanfiction #nxt imagine #wwe imagine #wayward wrestle writing

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capo-cedes · 4 years ago

Text

Michael

INVOLVED: Mercedes D’onofrio, Nicholas D’onofrio, Al Mazomonie, Donna Mazomonie, Rebecca Mazomonie, & Michael D’onofrio TIME FRAME: LOCATION: -; New York City, New York NOTES: After the house is invaded and Mercedes goes into labor, everyone regroups at the hospital.

Mercedes rested against the hospital bed comfortably. This was the part of becoming a parent that she hadn’t prepared for, the labor and delivery. She exhaled softly as she breathed through a contraction as it wrecked through her. One hand gripping the beds railing for dear life as she laid there focusing on something other than the pain or the fact that there was no home to take their child to. The entire hospital was empty from top to bottom, police and guards circled the entire building.

After everything Al decided that by no means could they trust anything and anyone. The price didn’t matter; he had to protect Mercedes, Nicholas, and the unborn child safely if his own life depended on it. He paced the halls, down its entire length were men armed and ready for battle. He looked to his wife sitting beside Mercedes door before he placed his hands in his pockets and paced in the opposite direction.

Freddie stood even in his current state right by Mercedes door. He could hear the clicking of Al’s shoes from behind the closed door. His eyes darted at Mercedes as she exhaled into the room. Pain wasn’t an easy thing to watch on her but it was inevitable. There was nothing he could do there, outside of standing by her door with a loaded rifle in case anything happened within his control.

Head of Cosmetic Surgery Gregory Aronld. Or at least that is what his name tag read. Nicholas glanced down at the running gash on his leg that was being steadily closed. He rose from his chair and moved over closer to Mercedes’ bed, causing the surgeon to scamper holding the needle at the ready. “Mr. D” Dr. Arnold argued feebly, setting back to work as soon as Nicholas was still. “Do you need me to call the nurse?” Nicholas asked his wife, rubbing the back of her hand.

Mercedes groaned softly to herself and when Nicholas moved over towards her she looked up at him. “Would you please let him stitch you up?” she asked in an exasperated sigh. “I’m fine” she said in a low growl as she twisted her body “I don’t need a nurse” she told him, exhaling slowly through her plump lips.

“He knows what he is about.” Nicholas said looking down at the Doctor. He ran a restless hand back through his hair. “We both know you’re lying. But I guess this is a part of it. Can’t they give you something?”

Mercedes looked at Nicholas again calming down as the pain subsided. “I am not” she said to him tiredly as she licked her full lips and looked up at the ceiling. “I don’t need anything,” she replied back to him easily. Women before her had done this time and time again without assistance. She would be no different. She was strong, she was Mercedes Francis for god sakes a little baby could not break her.

Nicholas stretched his eyes, shaking his head softly. “All right.” He was restless. There were so many things that needed to be sorted out. He wanted to be at home combing over the bodies himself. They had to have left some clues. God help Paul if he didn’t come in with some good news. “Ouch” Nicholas groaned, slapping Dr. Arnold against the back of the head as he finished his work. “Watch that shit! Are you finished? Damn.” The doctor nodded, holding his head and moved away from the couple.

Bernice hurried up the hall, each room she passed was empty save the beeping of machinery. Turning a corner she almost ran bodily into Al. “Al!” She blurted. “How are the kids? Has the baby arrived yet?’

Mercedes blinked slowly as she looked over at Nicholas and the doctor in the room. When the man was finished he scurried away, leaving just her, Nicholas, and Freddie in the room. She shifted again in the bed straightening her posture a bit. “My water broke and he left…” she breathed looking back up at the ceiling. “I would have taken the shot” she said confused “why didn’t he do it? Why didn’t he kill me?” she breathed.

Al looked at the men down the stretch of hall, he needed to get some serious shit done and fast. Despite his pending grandchild, he needed him, Nicholas, and Freddie out and about. He wondered if he could leave Mercedes in the care of his wife as they did so. No, Mercedes needed their support right now she could have lost her life, they all could have and he didn’t know what he would have done truly. As a body bumped into him he turned around seeing Bernice “Bernice” he replied. “Fine, Nicky barely had a scratch. They stitched him up” he said. “No, the kid isn’t here yet. Two hours in, we know how long these things can take…”

Nicholas wandered back to his chair and sat down. “They were definitely there to kill you.” He signed, “Doesn’t make any sense why the deed isn’t done. They knew about the safe room. You two didn’t even know about that. And Luis won’t be giving us any clues. They killed him already.” These guys were connected that is for sure. “The soldiers in the kitchen were definitely Russian.” He said, looking over to Mercedes. “Baby, please tell me this isn’t the Russian mafia?”

Bernice cupped her face in her hand and exhaled, taking a moment to gather herself and wipe away her worries. “Yes, yes… I know. But going into labor during an invasion is a surprisingly new concept even for us.” She inhaled dropping her hands. “I don’t know what happened. This is all so unusual” she said crossing her arms. “Nicholas is too careful. The boy is damn near a ghost. How they could have been so careless with a pregnant woman in the house.” She fussed, in disbelief.

Mercedes listened to her husband, her heart pounding in her chest all over again, in that moment she had never known fear. Al’s back hand was an easy pill to swallow but her standing there without protection, soiling her clothes was a fear she had never known. She exhaled softly “this is all my fault, I am so sorry” she expressed seriously. “All those people,” she said thinking about her staff. “I know how you feel about this, and I am sorry” she repeated. “Our son doesn’t even have a nursery to go home to now” she said rambling on.

Al folded his arms over his chest as he stood before the woman, taking her in and watching to worry melt away. “Well,” he breathed “when you think you are going to die, your water breaking in probably the least of your worries” he let slip. “This isn’t Nicholas’ fuck up it’s hers” he breathed.

“Al” Donna said, very close in range to hear what both he and his friend Bernice were talking about.

Al turned around and looked back at his wife, “it’s the truth” he said back to her before he turned back to Bernice. “Nicholas could have died” he told both women “she could have died” he breathed “the baby for God sakes” he added. “And I am not completely sure how I am going to clean up all of this mess and protect them,” he vented. “Can’t even find these dudes right now…”

Upsetting Mercedes wasn’t what Nicholas intended. Even if it had been the only thing he’d done consistently for the last few months. “Shhh…” Nicholas said, going over the bed again, he sat on the edge, laying her head on his chest. “Everyone knows the risk. They’re family will be taken care of and now we have more time to figure this all out. I’m alive and most importantly you are. We’ll deal with the rest later.” He rubbed her arm. “It’s been taken care of. Down to the last baby blanket.”

Bernice looked confused… “Surly not.” She said, shaking her head. “Still this doesn’t make any sense.” she rubbed at her temples. “You can though. Al. you’ve seen the family though more than this.” She looked around at the assembled guards. “Do they have any soldiers left?”

Mercedes looked at Nicholas as he moved over to her once more she laid her head against his chest. She rested her hand against her bump, nodding her head at him as he spoke reassuring her. “Really?” she asked him as she looked up, a bit of shock and disbelief in her voice.

Al shifted on his feet, dropping his hands and placing them into his pockets again. “The Russian mafia” he stressed to her. “She claims her dealings with them were unbeknownst to her. She did what she had to protect Nicholas in the long run but now look at this shit” he said, throwing his hands up and gesturing around them. “Everyone has to watch their backs now” he told her. “Down to you,” he said, wagging his finger at Bernice. “Five” he told her, seriously lifting up five fingers. “There was an all out war at that damn house, bodies everywhere. I had to pay the NYPD so much got damn money!” he said, his voice booming.

Donna uncrossed her legs and recrossed them “Bernice” she breathed softly to the woman. “Come over here and grab a seat” she said “leave that old man to his thoughts” she said cutting off Al’s rant off.

Nicholas nodded. “Don’t sound so shocked. Yes. Red we are who we are. Shit happens. We lost more of the primary staff then I should like...but, we have a place to go and a pretty good skeleton crew to start.” He smirked, “Hell, Freddie can just be the new cook.”

Bernice’s head was spinning. “The Russians.” She whispered the word as if it were holy. “She couldn’t have known. Tiny’s always been Tiny but she’d never put us all in danger for nothing. Al you know that.” Her eyes focused on Al as he put her on notice. “I’m always careful. This isn’t our first war.” She twisted her lips, her heart ached for the families of the dead. “I can send over my personal maid to take over for them,” she said more to herself. She moved away from Al taking a seat next to Donna she grabbed the woman’s hand holding it in hers. “At least the kids are safe. Right, Al?”

Mercedes looked back up at Nicholas and she smirked a little at his comment. “I highly doubt anything Freddie would make would be edible” she joked back to him softly. She looked over at Freddie for a moment before she laid her head back against her husband's chest.

Freddie overheard Nicholas and Mercedes, he didn’t crack a smile though the joke was actually very funny. Instead he simply stood there swapping glances with her and looking straight ahead once more.

Al looked at her and tilted his head “yeah she’ll do anything for your knuckle head son, including endanger us” he replied easily. “I think Nicholas is ahead of you in those regards” he breathed, when his wife cut in he sighed and went on to pace more.

Donna looked to the woman, holding her hand back lovingly. “Yes that is most important” she chimed looking at the back of her husband's head. “She isn’t due for another few weeks, but they say that both are fine. It was a little rocky at first” she breathed. “Which I could imagine, whoever these people are nearly scared the girl to death”.

“Of course” Al replied back to Bernice easily. Then being alive those were the least of his worries. It was keeping them alive. “Now to keep them alive…”

Nicholas chuckled, and nodded respectfully to the bodyguard. “He might surprise both of us.” He said quickly. Freddie was devoted to his wife, which in their current situation meant more than the money they had stored away. He rubbed Mercedes' shoulder, trying to wash away what doubt he could. “Red, are you feeling better? I need to step outside and talk to your father for one second.”

Bernice clicked her tongue. “Well birds of a feather.” She said, giving Al a knowing look. No matter what Al said the whole thing still didn’t sit right with her. “Yes.. but?” she said struggling with the puzzle in her mind. She turned, giving Doona her full attention. “Good,” she breathed sighing with relief. “I can’t imagine how she feels.” She said looking toward the door. “I bet she doesn’t want any company right now”. Bernice’s head looked to Al seriously. He was right and the bigger question was why were they left alive in the first place.

Mercedes chuckled a little at his comment, glancing at Freddie once more. She felt comfort in his subtle arm caress in the moment. “I’m fine, you can go,” she said, nodding her head at him. She knew her husband well enough to know that being out there on the streets would comfort him far more than being in this hospital room waiting for their son to make his debut. There was still so much work to be done and he wouldn’t rest until it was completed.

Al halted and turned around slowly, he didn’t want to act as he naturally would giving the woman’s comment however this was not the time or place he was too on edge.

Donna looked at Bernice and said “I was in there examining things not long ago” she chuckled lightly. “Mercedes is a bull after all, I highly doubt she needs us. But would also never turn us away” she breathed.

Al allowed his wife to finish her cute little banter before he moved towards Bernice and excused her. Grabbing the woman by her shoulder she stood her up and said “Bernice have a walk with me dear” easily as he gestured the direction with his hand.

Nicholas gazed into his wife’s deep green eyes as she gave him leave. “I’m not leaving.” he said plainly. “I just want to get an update status on what’s going on at the house and check in with Paul. Ten minutes tops.” He felt compelled to explain his actions to his wife, something he’d never felt before.

Bernice grinned. “You raised an amazing woman. I’ll be right here until we hear our grandbaby cry. Whatever Tiny needs.” She flinched, surprised by Al’s hand on her shoulder. “Of course.” She said as if she had a choice and rose. “Excuse me Donna.” she said respectfully.

Mercedes shifted in the bed again as the on-set of another contraction surged and she nodded her head “okay” she told him softly. “I’m okay” she reminded him, he never explained himself she didn’t know why he was doing so now. She understood the motive behind departing to seek her father even as she grabbed the rail again and inhaled deeply.

“Aw, thank you” Donna said before Al walked over, she looked at him before pulling her eyes away and turning her head. She didn’t bother to reply back to Bernice thanks to her husband’s intrusion.

Al offered a fake smile to the woman and began to walk, tugging her along with him. “Birds of a feather huh?” he asked her in a hushed tone.

Nicholas shifted as Mercedes began to cling to the arm rest. “Another one huh?” He asked stupidly, feeling helpless for the second time tonight. He stayed in place rubbing her back gently waiting for the contraction to pass.

Bernice walked quickly to keep up with Al. She huffed silently as schooling her face to calm as she realized what was bothering him. “Yes Al. It’s clear Nicholas and Tiny will do anything to protect one another. That’s all I meant.” she replied honestly.

Mercedes nodded her head at Nicholas as she tried to breathe through the contraction, arching her back a little. She closed her eyes for a moment before she opened them looking up at the ceiling above her. She released he railed and grabbed his hand instead squeezing it for dear life “mm” she grunted softly before she exhaled.

Al looked to the woman before he dropped his hand placing them in his pockets. “Is that so….” he said, looking at the side of her face again. “Don’t play with me woman, I am on edge right now” he told her. “I planned to pass the torch over to her as soon as this kid drops, but now I have all of this mess to clean up” he barked in a quiet tone. “The last thing I need is a smart ass lip from you or Donna!” he said screeched, voice rising with each word he was so angry.

Bernice’s head dropped. “I’m sorry if I misspoke. I didn’t think” She confessed. “It’s been a long day for all of us.” Her stomach fell. This wasn’t the time for Al to retire. The family would fall apart without him. “I know.. I am sorry. This isn’t what you wanted but this may be what Tiny needs to really prepare to take over.

Al looked at the woman “it’s alright” he said calming down. At her moment he sighed “I don’t know” he said to her seriously as he rubbed his forehead.

Bernice's heart pounded her chest. This was no time to piss Al off. Especially now that it appeared to be off of Nicholas. "You are the only person who lead the family right now. You know this is true."

Al looked at Bernice, “Mercedes was a lot of things and now in a few hours she would have gone and made herself a got damn mother. She doesn’t even want to be a part of the family anymore. Can you believe that?!” He said. “She doesn't want to be Don,” he said irritatedly.

Bernice covered her mouth in feigned shock. She had heard this before. Though at the time she did believe it was true. “You believe her?” She questioned genuinely interested in his mindset. She shook her head lightly, “I believe at some point in time all the kids dream of something different. Maybe she’s just experiencing those aspirations later in life?” Bernice did ponder another question… How did Rebecca feel about all of this? Since she was in the stew pot… “What about Rebecca. I mean right now she is the underboss?”

Al paused sighing “yes, because I know her” he told the woman “she’s determined and she gets what she wants” he breathed. “Rebecca will get over it, I just-“ he shook his head. “Mercedes is a better fit to lead, she knows what it means to rule with an iron fist… and” he sighed “carry a little care for those around her rather she shows it or not” he said.

"I see." Bernice nodded, deferring to the Don's knowledge of his children. Even if she held her own reservations to the contrary. He'd lead the family to long to doubt his assessment now. "I can see that. She was about to have me killed at their engagement party. " she chuckled thinking about the girl.

At the woman’s comment Al furrowed his brows “is that right?” he asked her, not having known about that.

Bernice actually giggled, dropping her head then shaking out her red curled ringlets. “Don't seem so shocked. I'm sure you've wanted to end my life from time to time. She is your child. Anyway," brush past her comments. “I can see what you mean about Tiny. I guess now only time will tell."

“I’ve desired other things, that was never one” Al corrected, looking back behind them and he nodded. “Yes” he sighed “time” he replied back to her as he moved to retrace their steps back towards his wife.

Bernice sighed and left the comment to hang in the air. Al was a very dangerous man even after all their years of acquaintance, she had to walk a line with man, the key was never be caught off guard or alone. She nodded shaking her head in agreement with the Don.

Nicholas glanced at the clock on the wall. Wasn't there a way to time contractions. He thought standing now by the side of the bed. "Ummm… you sure they can't give something? Freddie go get the nurse."

“I don’t want anything,” Mercedes said, blowing out a large breath of air. “Freddie don’t you move” she snapped. “I can do this without medical intervention” she said as she shifted against the bed again, dropping her head back against the pillow as her contraction subsided.

Nicholas stood dumbfounded, sighing heavily he shook head from side to side. "You are being stubborn." He smirked, then leaned down and kissed her lips. "I like it. I'll be right back." Nicholas strolled to the door, looking back only briefly as went. The door clicked softly behind him and he looked up shocked to see his mother. "I thought I told the family to lay low." He said, looking to his mother.

Bernice stepped beside Donna, when Nocholas emerged from the hospital room. She chuckled lightly, "You weren't talking to me." She said simply. "Can I go in to see Tiny?"

Nicholas' growled, jaw tightening. He didn't answer his mother. Instead he turned to Al. "A word," he asked, tilting his head in the opposite direction to where the women were seated.

Al looked towards Nicholas as he surfaced, he looked between him and his mother as they bantered before he nodded his head. He began walking hands in his pockets as he did.

Nicholas swept the hall with his eyes physically counting the men present. Shaking his head slowly, took to quick steps to catch up with the Don, ducking his head in deference. "Did they find anything we can use at the house?" He asked as he walked beside the man.

Bernice scoffed, "the joys of having a capo for a son never stop." He exhaled and looked to Donna, "Shall we. Tiny may believe she needs Nicholas, but we both know that a lie." She said, standing she moved to the door and knocked, slipping her head in, "can I come in?"

Al looked at Nicholas and shook his head “no” he breathed simply to the man. “Gone without a trace” he said honestly. “I am sure they left the same way they came, like thieves in the night…”

Donna looked to Bernice and smirked at the woman’s words “why not” she said as she looked to stand up, grabbing her hand bag.

Mercedes shifted, pulling herself upright in the bed and tossing up her hand when Freddie’s foot moved. “I’m fine” she reminded him with a huff as she stretched her short body a bit, her back aching. When she heard the knock she looked to see her mother-in-law and she nodded “yeah” she told her.

Nicholas paused and sighed hand running through his hair, watching as his mother and Donna disappeared into Mercedes' room. "Dammit! All we got is the Russians. I'd say let’s set up a meeting but at this point we’d just walk into a trap." He said thinking more out loud than anything else. Frustrated the leaned against the wall, licking his lip nervous at what he was about to propose. "Al I think once the baby is born, I should take Mercedes away for a while." He said in hushed tones.

Bernice grinned as she moved into the room. Immediately she grimaced. "You need more pillows." She said shaking her head and moving to buzz the nurse.

Al folded his arms over his chest as Nicholas went off on a tangent, he didn’t interrupt instead he let the man speak. And then when he was done he nodded his head “I won’t fight you on that” he said shockingly. He expected her to drop her kid and get back to work however, that wasn’t going to happen obviously.

Donna followed behind Bernice, looking at Mercedes before she found her seat knowingly.

Mercedes looked at Bernice as she came into the room and she shook her head at the woman. “I’m fine” she told her quietly.

Bernice tilted her head quizzically backing away from the phone. "Okay…" she sighed. Hand going to the middle of her back she rubbed it in remembrance of old pain. Clapping her hands together, "Well, dear… ready or not. Is there anything you need?" She asked looking at Donna who had found a seat by the bed.

"Listen, I know it's not what you want but you didn't …." Nicholas cut his prepared argument, face shocked. "You agree?" He intoned in a voice mixture of shock, disbelief, and relief. "Good." He said exhaling, hands going to his knees. “Good. I think the fewer people who know we have left the better. We’ll start out at the safe house I’ve set up then move from there.”

As Bernice spoke Mercedes inhaled and exhaled evenly, shaking her head at the woman. “Uh, uh” she managed to exhale as another contraction wrecked through her. “I’m peachy” she growled, closing her eyes and resting her head back against the bed.

“Didn’t what?” Al questioned “see tons of bodies scattered across your estate?” he asked. “Pay the NYPD thousands to keep their damn mouths closed?” he pressed. “See the hide out you stuffed her in that didn’t do much hiding?” he glared. “Newborns are hard work just how do you plan to run off into no man’s land with one?”

Bernice nodded as she watched the girl clearly in pain. "First children are always the hardest. I'm glad you're up for the challenge. D’onofrio are stubborn son of bitches like to play rent in your womb." She said hold on to the bed rails.

Nicholas bite down on his hard enough to draw blood. The metallic taste of life and death serving as a calming agent against the onslaught of calamities his father in law hurled at him. He ducked his head and kicked at something imagined on the floor, "I have another safe house it's real off the books. It's in a quiet place homey." He shrugged "She'll like it there."

“Yeah well I am married to one so that isn’t shocking” Mercedes said to the woman before she leaned upright again. With her head of hair a mess of wild curls she finger combed them to one side and looked over at Donna with green eyes. Her eyes moved to Bernice again and she said “how long were you in labor with Nicholas?” curiously.

Al looked at Nicholas, turning away from him and saying “I see” with a head nod. “Nothing to fight you on here” as he moved to walk away. “Is that all you wanted?” he asked him “I’d like to go smoke a cigar now” he told him.

Bernice moved to fluff Mercedes pillows as the girl sat up. She sighed heavily after a moment tapping her finger on the bed rail. "Nicholas? I was in labor for 36 hours with him." She said, shaking her head. “In the end they ended up giving me a Csection."

“36 hours?!” Mercedes said back to the woman, the pain subsided and her body relaxed tension leaving it. “A c-section” she breathed as she looked down at her rounded stomach in the bed. She looked back up at her mother, worry in her face now.

“Well yes. You shouldn’t worry though everyone’s labor experience is different. Personally I admire you gusto. With my first the luxury of painkillers wasn’t offered. I learned better with the last of my children.” She patted Mercedes' hand softly. “How is the breathing going for you. Is it helping much?”

Nicholas turned towards the wall, holding himself off the surface with his knuckles. The pain in his leg was starting to spike despite his attempts to keep the pain at bay. One thing down and a hundred to go. He turned and looked at Al’s retreating form, for the first time in life starting to feel that another life was just what the doctor ordered. “Thank you for your time sir.” He said, standing up straight.

“Yep” Al replied, reaching into his coat pocket for a cigar. He flicked it upwards acknowledging the boy as he continued to walk down the hall.

Mercedes eyes left Donna and moved to Bernice again. “Uh” she said with a light shrug as she laid back “I guess it helps a little” she told her. “I don’t want to be here for 36 hours doing this dance with him but I guess I could” she breathed.

Donna looked between the two before she said “12 tops with Rebecca, no drugs, and no Al” she said, looking at the girl.

Slinking up the hall with an air of complete self possession Rebecca appeared. She glanced at her father who was moving towards her but did not stop. Yes she was here to report to the Don, but she want to see her sister. She moved past the guard and opened the door to Tiny’s room. She chuckled hearing her name. "What did they say about the devil?" She said standing in the doorway.

Nicholas’ scowl deepened then hit the floor. Ice cold rage entering his body as he saw Rebecca. He moved past Al, a deliberate stride, wondering what had happened to bring her out of hiding.

Donna looked up to see Rebecca and she smirked fondly “speaking of” she replied to the girl.

Mercedes looked to see Rebecca and despite her attempt the smile never reached her face. Why was she here out of all people? Yes, her acting at her wedding was pretty good but this. This happened to be different. She all but tried to destroy their marriage so why celebrate the birth of their first child.

The door shut as Rebecca moved over to her mother's side, laughing. "Well, I'm sure I was joy enough." She said She bending to kiss Donna's cheek lovingly. Straightening, "Bernice…" she nodded focusing on Mercedes. "This all seems fitting. You were the baby doll type." She committed crossing her arms over her chest.

Nicholas entered the room at full speed. circling the door he eyed Rebecca cautiously. "Anything to report?" He asked looking at his wife, then back to Rebecca.

Mercedes looked to Donna and then Rebecca, again she tried to laugh or smile but it didn’t reach. Instead she made it apparent how she truly felt by stating “the very dolls you stopped at nothing to destroy… I suppose dear sister” she breathed. Inhaling and exhaling, she finally looked up at her and peered into her eyes. When Nicholas showed she looked at him and shook her head “not really” she breathed.

Rebecca shrugged, “Kids will be kids. I was acting out.” She said, reflectively, “Forgive me, I went from being a spoiled only child to a big sister without warning. You can’t still hold that against me?” She asked cutting off when Nicholas entered the fray. “Brother in law…” She smirked, “Nothing. Outside of what you all already know. I was able to find out that most of the thugs were hired guns, with only the main group being Russian. They used them as cannon fodder for the most part. After that I thought it was only right I come here to support the family.”

Nicholas clenched his teeth, trying hard to relax. He moved to Mercedes placing a protective hand on her forearm, nodding as Rebecca spoke. “Do you need anything?” He asked quietly to his wife, brushing her hair back with his free hand. He looked back to Rebecca, “You should go give that report to Al. I’m sure he’ll want to know.

Donna shifted in her seat looking between Mercedes and Rebecca, she was deciding if she were going to speak up or be quiet. As long as she could remember the two had been at each other’s throats.

Mercedes raised a brow, before she scrunched her face in disgust “oh forgive me” she stressed agitatedly. “I forgot at 9 months old I asked your father to do that” she snapped.

“Mercedes” Donna breathed tenderly before she looked at Rebecca. “Rebecca, your sister is in active labor do you think this is the time or place to put on a show?” she asked her with a tilted head. “Yes, your father would love to hear that” she said agreeing with Nicholas, offering the room a smile.

Mercedes eyes rolled over to Donna, just mere moments ago she was facing death to then venture off into motherhood weeks before her actual deadline and here Rebecca was being the usual annoyance she always was. She took the time to sink in the bed, ignoring the contraction she was having. She wouldn’t give Rebecca that satisfaction right now. Looking at Nicholas she shook her head at him, looking down at nothing in particular as she inhaled sharply through her nose.

“And I did?” Rebecca countered in the space of a moment. “Contrary to what you think I’m not here to argue with you. I know I’ve been less than perfect. I’m trying to change.” Her hand went to her mother’s shoulder as her full mouth went into a sad little pout. She folded in on herself visibly in front of everyone. “Yes… I suppose you are right. Brother-in-law” She stressed tossing her hair lightly over her shoulder she quickly moved to the door and exited the room. Outside she took in a deep breath, the move to where her father was smoking. “Father.”

Bernice watched the going ons with the cool disconnection that was completely fake. Her ears were alert while her eyes studied Nicholas and Mercedes with a mother's concern on face.

Nicholas rubbed his hand down Mercedes back, "thank you, I believe talking to Al would be best. Underboss." He ended using her formal title. Despite the complete lack of respect he felt. Turning completely to his mother now. "Is everyone safe. We don't know what these people want… at least tell me you did that much."

At her words Mercedes raised a brow, her mouth twisted in disgust as she thought about the audacity of Rebecca’s lie. “Right” she said simply in response as she shifted her body again, still fighting against her pesky contraction. When the woman left she growled lowly to herself, releasing another harsh breath as Nicholas unhelpfully rubbed her back.

“Rebecca” Donna replied to the girl’s remark, as she went on she nodded her head. “That’s a good girl,” she said, patting the girl’s hip lovingly. She watched the girl go and she rested back against her seat again.

Al stood out front, just down the hall from everyone, he sighed in the cool air. Using his lighter to relight the cigar he heard Rebecca and looked up “the kid is here?” he asked, prepared to finish her statement as he turned to her, eyeing over.

Rebecca looked back at the door, shaking her head. “No the kid takes after his mother he will come when he is good and ready. Needless to say, I’m not exactly welcomed in there.” She shrugged softly then looked back to her father. “We’ve cleaned up as much as we could at their home and are running down the connection to local dead guys. We’ve got the Mitchel brother under surveillance. An easy amount of the hired guys were from their crew. Would you like us to talk to them?”

Bernice rolled her eyes. “Nicholas this isn’t my first war. Calm down. If they wanted us they would have hit us before you guys, or at the same time. Don’t be foolish.” She fuseed, She said, watching Mercedes struggle through a contraction. “Besides, do you actually think I would miss the birth of my grandchild. I’ve never missed one and I refuse to start now.” she said sheepishly, her eyes rose to meet Nicholas again. “Everyone but Paul has been placed underlock and key,” She finally said, moving around the bed to stand by her son’s side. “You just be here. At this moment. Okay?”

“Mother?” Nicholas fussed, not backing down. She alway thought she was the smartest of them all and that bothered him greatly. “You don’t know for sure what any of this is or what will happen. None of us do. Don’t be so flippant”. He relaxed only marginally as she finally offered the information he wanted to know. “Must you always be you.” He sighed, “I’m here mother. Can someone please go tell the nurse to give her something, or at least come in and let us know if everything is okay.” He said finger raking through his hair.

Al chuckled at Rebecca lightly, “why not?” he asked her “your sister needs your support now more than ever” he said honestly. “That shit can’t be easy, no matter the woman or her measured strength,” he said with a headshake. As she went on to tell him something he’d actually like to hear he nodded slowly “mhm” he said processing what she had said. “Yes” he told her with a head nod. “Do just that” he said exhaling a cloud of smoke.

Mercedes swallowed thickly and she shook her head “I don’t need anything Nicholas” she groaned, a whimper escaping her before the pain subsided. She exhaled slowly, one of her hands moving to her stomach pressing flatly against its roundness. “Okay” she said catching her breath “that was like a 9 out of 10” she said nodding her head.

Donna looked between the son and mother, much like watching a tennis match she only pulled her eyes and ears away when she heard Mercedes struggles. She stood up and moved a little closer “maybe you should have them give you something” she said softly. “It’s not a sign of weakness, just alleviate some pain” she suggested. “I’ll go get a nurse,” she told them. It was obvious why they were slow to budge, they knew who they were and anybody who did feared them.

Rebecca regarded her father for a long moment, the old bastard, wasn’t there even for her birth and now he had the nerve to expound on what his bastard needed. She kicked at nothing on the floor, then looked back up. “Old wounds die hard father.” she said simply. “Old wounds.” She waited dutifully as he mulled over her idea, then nodded quickly as he gave his approval. “Consider it done.” She said, already back away from the man. “I’ll let you know what we find out.”

Nicholas rolled his eyes grinding his teeth at his wife's continued resistance to medicine. “Baby... “ he said, trying to keep the base out of his voice. “I agree with your mother,” He said then added “Thank you Donna.”

Mercedes watched her mother disobey her and she looked at Nicholas “I can do this” she stressed to him. “All the stuff we’ve witnessed, we’ve done, like tonight for instance” she told him “I can push out this baby on my own” she said, if she said it enough she would convince herself of just that eventually. “And it is a sign of weakness” she corrected sadly lip quivering, turning her head from him.

Nicholas touched his mother’s hand, lightly. “Leave us for a moment.” he told the woman, eyes only on Red.

Bernice inhaled, then nodded knowingly to her son. “Donna wait up, I’d like to have a word with that nurse as well”.

Nicholas rounded the bed, and pulled over the chair sitting down to rest his leg. “Red.” he said restlessly, “what’s this about? We have the best staff in the world here to help you deliver this child. Why are you being so damn stubborn? Is this natural birth shit really what you want to do?” he asked, feeling a little guilty this was the first time he’d even thought about this aspect.

Mercedes watched Bernice leave and she looked down at the bed she was in, when Nicholas pulled up beside her she looked at him as he spoke. She sighed softly and said “I did a lot of research and it’s better for the baby and I” she told him at first. Which wasn’t a lie at all if she were to be honest with him. However she went on “I don’t know” she answered back to him getting emotional, yet again. “It’s just, while he’s in here I can protect him from some things, but once he’s out” she cried “I don’t know” she said shaking her head as she wiped a few tears. “I’m scared” she admitted “I didn’t really know what to expect and I didn’t imagine it like this” she cried to her husband as a hiccup left her. “I-I-” she stammered working herself up “didn’t picture i-i-t going like t-this” she said her hand covering her wet eyes, her other gripping the bed’s railing as another contraction wrecked through her.

Nicholas sat back and let Red explain herself. He nodded softly, unable to argue against what she was saying. He didn’t know if it was true or not. As she came down to the heart of her feelings, he swallowed then looked to Freddie before he reached for his wife’s fingers, “Shhh,” He squeezed her hands. “Hey… this might not be your dream situation. But even you have to admit, having both your baby daddys here is a blessing.” He waited for her to gather herself, “We are leaving as soon as the baby is born. Far away from here and all the bullshit. You don’t have to be scared. Not anymore.” He promised.

Mercedes dropped her hand as Nicholas reached for her fingers, squeezing her hand and she sniffled hard. At his joke she looked over at Freddie and then “not funny” she said softly those I was amusing. As he went on she looked at him, she couldn’t tell if he was just saying that to her to calm her down or what. So she shook her head a little wiping her tears a little more “yeah right” she said quietly as she exhaled softly the pain subsiding, she laid her head back on the pillow shifting down a bit as she looked at Nicholas, lacing their fingers together.

“Yes it is. You and I both know he’s going to change way more diapers than I ever will.” Nicholas continued, not joking in the least. “No.. I told you we were going to leave the house and got raided. I almost lost you. I am a lot of things but a fool isn’t one of them. We are leaving. Just get our son here safe and sound and we’ll have a new house safe from harm.”

Freddie looked over to the both of them, wondering if Nicholas was actually telling the truth and what it all meant. As they went on he looked down for a moment before he looked back, raining a stone wall despite.

Mercedes held Nicholas hand close, chuckling a little at his words “Freddie has 3 kids, he should be a pro” she breathed looking over at him before she looked at Nicholas again. She dried her eyes a little more before she nodded her head at him slowly “okay” she said reasoning with him, her other hand moving to her stomach. “I can do that,” she said softly, calming down and letting some of the nervousness melt away.

Donna stood before the nurses station “my concern is the strain” she vocalized “and the fact that originally when he got here both her and the babies vitals were alarming” she added. “Remember, her blood pressure” she pointed. “She thinks she doesn’t need the drugs, but mother knows best,” she said with a small smile.

“Three kids…” Nicholas whistled looking at the silent man. “I had no idea. Wow.” He kept her hand in his and leaned back in the chair, “I know you can. Mercedes you're about to be a mother… The best mother. Strong and sure… quiet as it’s kept, I got the feeling you’re going to be a lot like my mother. Which I find sort of scary.” He said looking towards the hospital door.

Bernice stood beside Donna red nails clicking on the counter of the nurses station. Donna’s nice yet threatening approach was another feather in the ladies hat. She really did like the sweet woman. “You heard Mrs. M dear. Get off your ass while you still have one.” She add with a smirk.

XXX

Despite everyone’s protest hours earlier, now at the tail end of this never ending battle Mercedes regret choosing to ignore those protests. Her mother-in-law had jinxed her, or cursed her depending on who you asked. At a whopping 23 hours she still found herself battling with their unborn son. He was proving to honestly be just like his mother and father “whew” left Mercedes in a strangled groan as she huffed through the now excruciating pain. And as if 23 hours wasn’t far too long to punish someone she sat their 9 centimeter, just 1 shy of victory and her son hadn’t budged in an hour. She told herself in the moment sweat pouring from her forehead that if she survived this “I am never doing this again” in a deep growl, squeezing Nicholas' hand as hard as her body allowed.

Nicholas bared his teeth, trying to endure the pain this wife was inflecting on his hand. The time for witty exchanges had left hours ago. All he wanted was his son, a shower and sleep. And at this point, the order of those wants were switching by the second. With bloodshot eyes, that bore a hole in the nurse who stood at the foot of the bed, “This can’t be normal… isn’t there something you can do?”

The nurse's eyes peered past the man, she looked to check Mercedes vitals as well as their son’s before she looked back down. “He’s fine” she said tugging her gloves off “I can see the top of his head” she commented. She moved to page her doctor. After she had done so she grabbed a new pair of gloves. “Here let’s get you ready” she said to Mercedes, the girl assisted in getting Mercedes feet in the stirrups before she attentively dried sweat from the woman’s neck and face. “You are doing so good, a trooper to go this long with no epidural” she commented calmly.

Mercedes released Nicholas' hand and grabbed the beds railing, her back arching slightly as she released another loud groan. At the girl's statement and page, she looked down, releasing another groan. “I’m never doing this again,” she said shaking her head “never doing this again, never doing this again” her words a jumbled plea for help, laced with exhaustion, and agony. As the girl positioned her the way that she needed her Mercedes tried to regain some strength and sanity. “Oh” she cried as her back arched again, she continued to grip the railing on the bed as she inevitably fell into temptation and began to push. Bearing down she didn’t wait for further instruction truly, whatever she was doing came naturally and it was edging her closer to some relief.

“The head?” Nicholas exclaimed, trying to look and backing away at the same time. “Next time say something. Standing there all mute and shit.” Confused he stood by the side of the bed dumbfounded as Mercedes was helped into a new position. “Yeah, baby you are doing great.” He added lamely, feeling a nervousness that hadn’t been there two seconds ago. “I’m here. Just breathe okay… Should she be pushing?” He asked, wondering where the doctor was. “Doesn’t a doctor need to be in here?”

“His head” the girl repeated, rounding the bed the young girl proceeded to set up what was necessary for the doctor ignoring his other remark. She looked at Nicholas and then Mercedes “he’ll be here any moment, don’t worry. It’s fine, she’s doing what her body requires… naturally” she said calmly to him. When she was done she moved back to Mercedes and nodded her head pleasantly “you are doing amazing” she breathed happily offering Mercedes her hand if she needed it. Her eyes moved back down between the woman’s legs watching closely before she heard the door open behind them and the older guy rush in. She only parted ways with Mercedes to assist him, gearing him up.

Mercedes exhaled loudly as she laid her head back on the bed looking at Nicholas with eyes that screamed either be supportive or get your ass out. He told her she was doing good however it went through one ear and out the other “I” she breathed deeply “am going to make you go stand in a corner if you don’t leave her alone” she snapped at him, eyes deadly. When her doctor showed she huffed loudly, puffing her cheeks out. “I thought you were going to miss all of the fun” she told the man her back arching again.

The older guy moved into the room as quickly as his legs carried, truthfully somewhere down the line a nap was needed. Imagine being held hostage at your place of work for a full 20+ hours. Mercedes wasn’t the only person exhausted, was all he could say to this current situation. When he entered he geared up with the help of the nurse and rolled some gloves on. Hearing Mercedes he chuckled lightly “of course not, I was contemplating grabbing us some pop and pizza to bring to the party” he joked lightly as he sat before her. “You are doing good, next contraction give us a big push” he told her happily.

Nicholas raised an eyebrow, but let the girl slide as he focused more on his Mercedes words. He nodded quietly, feeling out of his element entirely. He took the off handed dismissal on the head and moved out the way to allow the newly arrived doctor and the nurse to do the job they had been paid for. Easing to the foot of the bed he stood near Freddie, and scrubbed his hand down his pants then thread his fingers into his hair.

“How thoughtful of you” Mercedes said back to the doctor before she beared down, her hand still gripped the bed’s railing for dear life. Her other slid to the back of her thigh as she pushed roughly against the contraction, a strangled cry left her before she pressed her lips in a tight line. “Oh my goodness” she said, her head falling back against the pillows behind it. “Oh” she groaned, looking down between her legs.

The older man smirk at Mercedes adjusting the mask on his face a little before he watched as the woman pushed with all of her might. He shifted on the stool a little arms extended as he helped to guide the newborn’s head. “Good,” he said cheerfully, “his head is out,” he said to her. “Next contraction he should be out” he told the woman as he reached for the suction, suctioning the boy’s nose and mouth carefully.

The nurse grabbed a blanket and gently laid it across Mercedes' chest carefully, when she started pushing again she made sure to have the examination area prepped for when the baby is born. She moved to grab a pair of gloves and she handed them to Nicholas, moving to push the man right back at Mercedes' side, a little lower even so that he didn’t miss the show or finale. After all these hours of annoying them to death over the woman he thought he was going to stand on the side lines? Oh no, he was going to be all in today. “He’s almost here…” she reminded him.

Nicholas could run the world. Kill a man without flinching, but standing in this room watching his wife give birth he was helpless. Taking the gloves hesitantly, he slipped his long fingers into the glove without prodding. Cutting the umbilical cord was a dad thing, at least in the movies it was. Gloved, he stood like an out of place rag doll while the nurse and doctor cheered Red on. The experience was too wild for him to take it all in.

Freddie’s eyes stayed focused straight ahead as Tiny along with the help of staff worked diligently to bring the child into the World.

Mercedes groaned softly before she beared down and pushed against her contraction once more. Using all the strength she had to muster, she gripped the railing extremely hard as pushed the child out in two tries. Mercedes rested back against the bed releasing the rail finally as she looked down.

Mercedes’ doctor sat there watching the child as his mother pushed him out with ease. When Nicholas' hands were gloved he shifted over a little to allow the man to catch the little boy. “Right here, just cup your hands” he directed.

Watching the tall man put the gloves on the woman brought him closer to his wife, moving him closer to the view of their son and when she did she gestured with her head. “Go on” she encouraged him without much thought.

Nicholas’ head swivelled away from the happenings, as his rooted feet struggled to remain in place as the nurse pushed him south of the Mason Dickson line. ‘Was this normal protocol.’ He thought wildly, now standing beside the doctor. Nicholas looked oddly at the doctor’s face. He wanted him to catch the baby? His eyes tracking down to the doctor’s cupped hands. Yep! That was the plan. Nicholas squatted slightly, for a better position, for a moment more a man taking instruction from a coach than a father to be. The doctor helped support the baby’s neck as he reached down to catch the rest of the body. Hand holding his son's tiny body the Capo, killer, looking up to Red’s haggard and speechlessly grinned. He went back to the baby’s face, hands sure now. He’d never drop him. He laughed out loud, what sounded like a half sob. And before he knew it, he had all of his son’s long body in his hands. He huffed out more laughing sobs, “Hey boy.” He said, still holding him tightly.

Mercedes shifted slightly, her eyes falling on her husband as he held the now screaming bundle in his hands. They swapped glances and she smirked softly to herself, a tear she was unaware of rolling down her cheek at the sight of their son. He happened to be the picture of perfection and far more magical than she expected, it was hard to believe even now that she had carried him for nearly nine months in her womb.

The nurse smirked at the man, she moved towards him with a warm blanket and gestured her head towards his wife. “If you hand him over you can help us with something else” she breathed preparing to offer the man the surgical scissors he’d use to cut the boy’s umbilical cord. When the man feet finally carried him to his wife she’d wrap the bundle up, clean him off a bit and let the doctor and new father do their jobs.

Nicholas beamed down at the little screaming bundle in his hands. The yells were strong and loud, everything a D’onofrio should be. Instantly, everything in Nicholas' life was changed. The nurse got his attention and Nichlas looked over the woman as if she was the novice. He laid the baby in her hands slowly, reluctantly then gave the woman a warning look. He took the scissor then followed the doctor's instructions cutting his son free from his first home, with steady hands. Comfortable in the role he’d play in his son’s life from this point forward. He handed over the scissors then took off his gloves, moving up to Mercedes side. He leaned in and kissed her softly on the forehead. “Thank you.” He whispered into her hair. “He is absolutely perfect.”

The young girl smirked at the dazed man, it was amusing to her. It was as if everything he needed in life was suddenly handed to him. She moved the crying bundle towards his mother, rocking him gently as he did. She rested him on his mother’s chest, which subsequently quieted him a lot. She made sure he was bundled, knowing how very important it was for a child to be in its mother's arms the second it breathed life.

Mercedes watched as the wailing child was placed on her chest and she looked down at him. His red skin as loud as his scream she pecked him sweetly quieting him down, her hand instinctively moving to his small back as she rubbed him lovingly. When Nicholas moved towards her, her sparkling eyes looked up at his. He kissed her on the forehead which only made her eyes close as she basked in it. He whispered thank you and she opened them nodding at him slowly, his statement made her look down at the boy again. “Did you hear that Michael?” she sweetly said to the baby “you are absolute perfection, mommy and daddy are so happy you are finally here” she said kissing his tiny pink lips.

Nicholas reached down stroking the tiny fingers of his son’s hands. “Michael…” He repeated, the shocked expression in his tone. He cleared his throat, and tried to speak, then licked his lips, steadying his broken and heavy voice. He fought back tears, swallowing a huge lump in his throat. “Michael.” He repeated once more, wrapping his arm around Red’s shoulder squeezing her to him closer.

Mercedes continued to watch the little boy, her hand rubbing his small back sweetly. She was in awe, she’d really birthed a baby and with Nicholas no less. She kissed the little boy’s forehead and smirked looking up at Nicholas again “mhm” she replied “Michael Nicholas D’onofrio” she breathed to him before she looked back down at the baby wiggling against her bosom.

#samcedes rp #thread: michael #thread.

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adamwatchesmovies · 5 years ago

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The Best of 2019

What a year. By the time 2019 ended, I had seen over 130 new movies. It's actually probably closer to 150 but I lost count. There are a few titles I missed, such as The Dead Don’t Die, The Fanatic and Honeyland so obviously, this is not an all-encompassing, definitive list of 2019’s best, but it should give you a good idea of which films you need to check out if you haven’t already.

I usually like to save the #10 spot on my list for a movie that’s just for me. Normally, this would mean a giant monster movie, an off-beat creation nobody else saw, a comic book movie that spoke to my particular tastes or maybe a Canadian movie I know didn’t get the opportunity to shine like it should’ve. This year, that’s not happening. Trimming my list down to 10 was hard enough. I certainly wasn’t going to sacrifice one more to make it just 9. Let's dig in.

10. The Farewell

It’s been weeks since The Farewell and I’m still thinking about it. If I was put in the same position as Billi, I'm not sure what I'd do? Is it better to tell someone that's dying that their days are numbered, or should you spare them from that burden? Is it really them you’d be sparing, or is keeping the secret for your own selfish needs? Writer/director Lulu Wang asks serious questions about culture I had never contemplated before. There’s a lot for you here and even more if your family comes from mixed backgrounds.

9. A Beautiful Day in the Neighborhood

I heard some complaints about Fred Rogers (Tom Hanks) not being the main character of this film by Marielle Heller, from writers Micah Fitzerman-Blue and Noah Harpster. It was the right choice. The plot has a cyical reporter meet Rogers and through their relatively brief interaction, learn what we knew going in. It delivers a moving character arc without having to stain its subject with flaws we didn't want to see. The quasi-meta presentation is what elevates it into top-10 status. That extra touch means it does a lot more than simply re-iterate what we saw in the 2018 documentary Won't You Be My Neighbor?.

8. Knives Out

Knives Out is one of the most entertaining films all year. There are no profound moments of meditation, no earth-shattering realizations about yourself, just a mystery to be solved. All the suspects are so intriguing they could be the stars of their own movies. Put together in the same house as a dead body and you’ve got no idea who did it. Its screenplay is excellent. The twists are juicy. Everything ads up in a satisfying manner. Rian Johnson is already working on a sequel. I can’t wait.

7. Apollo 11

There are few holdovers from the list I made halfway through the year, which either says something about the strength of the second half of 2019, or the weakness of the first. Either way, you’ve got to see Apollo 11. It’s the closest thing to going back in time and being there when man landed on the moon. The tension and anticipation are overwhelming. Knowing what happened doesn't matter. The way the footage is assembled is nothing short of incredible. Why this documentary wasn't present at the Academy Awards is beyond me.

6. Uncut Gems

Adam Sandler should’ve been nominated for an Oscar. He wasn’t. I’ll bet you dollars to donuts it's because of his association with all of those brain-dead Happy Madison Production comedies. His history with cinema shouldn't matter. The movie is what matters. The fact is, this was the perfect role for him. It isn’t even that Sandler’s doing something different, it’s that he’s being used to his full potential. If you weren’t glued to the screen, eager to see what’s coming next, this movie would have you jumping out of the window screaming - anything to escape the anxiety the Safdie Brothers serve up with devilish grins.

5. The Lighthouse

Next on my list is The Lighthouse. Right away, the aspect ratio and black-and-white cinematography lets you know you’re in for something different. You have no idea. What I love so much about this film is the way it handles madness. At the end of the day, I’m not sure if I could tell you if Robert Pattinson’s character was crazy, if Willem Dafoe’s character was the nutty one, or if they both were. It shows you just enough to make you doubt your own sanity. It’s also unexpectedly funny, which makes it feel oddly genuine. In one scene, Robert Pattinson's Ephraim Winslow gets a hold of the lighthouse's logs. In it, his boss, Thomas (Willem Dafoe) recommends Ephraim be disciplined for masturbating excessively. Considering Thomas has been cavorting with some kind of tentacle creature up in the lighthouse (at least that's what I think I saw, I'm not so sure anymore), all you can do is laugh. What kind of loony bin is this turning into? One I'm looking forward to revisiting.

4. 1917

Shot in a way that makes it all look like one take, 1917 is a technical marvel. It hooks itself up to your circular system and steadily replaces your blood with pure, undistilled stress. As you're about to flatline, it stops and gives you a breather. A shot of a meadow untouched by the ravages of war; a reminder of what the soldiers are fighting for and of how utterly devastating armed combat is on humanity as a whole. Gorgeous cinematography, powerful emotions, magnificent production values.

3. Joker

Along with Godzilla: King of the Monsters (a movie they basically made for me), this was my most anticipated movie of the year. To get ready, I watched Taxi Driver and The King of Comedy, two Scorsese films Joker director Todd Phillips drew a lot of inspiration from. For some reason, it seems as though many critics took offense to the similarities. Sometimes I understand differing opinions from mine. This time, I don’t. It’s a great film that warns of the dangers of letting people like Arthur Fleck (brilliantly performed by Joaquin Phoenix) fall through the cracks. Left unchecked, he discovers that by doing terrible things, he becomes a “better” version of himself. It’s not a drama. It’s a horror movie that spins the familiar Batman archenemy in a new direction but also stays true to the character. There are several scenes in this movie that are going to be permanently imprinted in my brain. Those stairs. Need I say more?

Runner-ups

Avengers: Endgame

Even if every single Marvel movie going forward is awful, this caps off the whopping 22-chapter saga epically. A couple of aspects bugged me enough that it could only manage to make the runner-up list but it's a terrific film.

Booksmart

The funniest comedy of the year. I think back to Amy and Molly using their hairs as masks and still can't manage to hold back a few chuckles months later.

Toy Story 4

This one was hard to cut. The only flaw I could find was that it isn’t on the same level as 3… even though they’re both 5-star movies.

Midsommar

I’ve heard the extended cut is even better than the original. I wish I’d had the chance to see it in theatres.

Jojo Rabbit

Audacious and heartfelt. I loved those scenes of Scarlett Johanson being a mom. Her agent might've dropped the ball getting her cast in Ghost in the Shell but she sure knew how to pick great work in 2019.

Once Upon a Time in Hollywood

Quentin Tarantino brings us back to a time when Roman Polanski was simply a good director instead of a convicted rapist, movie stars were untouchable, and the death of someone’s wife under mysterious circumstances was nothing to raise eyebrows about. It’s not a movie that screams “here and now”. If anything, it’s regressive. That said, I cannot deny the experience I had watching it. It’s a once-in-a-lifetime kinda thing and I doubt even Tarantino could pull it off again. I wonder how many people went in knowing what happened to Sharon Tate like I did.

Marriage story

It’s nothing but raw emotion and powerhouse performances in this drama about two people you love going through a divorce. I always make it my goal to watch movies all the way through without any interruptions. Several times throughout, I was tempted to hit "Pause" so I could catch my breath.

Internet lists are everywhere. You know why, don’t you? They suck you in and when you get down to it, most don’t require all that much effort to put together. Except when I make them, apparently. These bi-annual lists always turn out to be difficult to put together. 2019's proved particularly arduous. I’m fairly sure that my #3 movie belongs there. Out of all the movies on this list, it’s probably the one I’m going to go back to most often. The other two? I’d say that technically, one may be better than the other but I think the other one is “more important” so that gives it the edge. What I’m trying to say is, they’re all winners and on a different day, I might even swap them around.

2. Little Women

I have only seen three of the seven silver screen adaptations of Louisa May Alcott’s novel and I don’t expect any of the others to top this one. The secret ingredient to this one's success is Greta Gerwig. Writing and directing, she does so much more than merely translate the classic to movie form. She re-arranges the story to give the events a greater punch than they would if they were shown chronologically and puts a little more emphasis on a couple of key moments (that tear-jerking Christmas, for example) to crank up the emotion. She also makes it more modern without having to change anything about the setting or characters. Admittedly, the back-and-forth between the past and present is a little jarring at first - makes you wonder what Greta Gerwig could’ve done had she been given the de-aging budget Martin Scorsese was given - but that’s where the performances and costumes come in. It takes mere moments before you get what the movie is doing. I’ve said it already but it made me cry.

1. Parasite

To make this list, I didn’t go through all of my past reviews and check which ones were rated what. I thought back to which movies gave me the most vivid memories, which ones gave me the biggest reactions. I’m still not sure how I feel about the final final moment but there’s so much about Parasite that I admire. This would be a great one to watch with others just to see their reactions to the reveal about the bookcase.

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fics-not-tragedies · 4 years ago

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In a Week: Chapter 8 🌲

It’s more like a filler chapter, at least it feels like that to me when I look at the number of words which is quite low but hey, who doesn’t love a good talk while having the lunch?

Words: 1821; Warnings: none, but really, none; Summary: After the encounter in the woods Andrew and Flo are back to their hotel ready for new adventures.

Hozier tag list:

@letoursilencebreaktonight; @angelpeachamber; @sgt-morgan; @julessbrown;

Monday, 11:50am

“So you say that foxes make weird noises?” She was playing with the lunch menu, pinching its ends with her fingers again and again.

“Yes, they basically sound like, em, women screaming” he took another sip from the cup of tea he ordered, desperately trying not to touch her hands.

When the waiter came to take their order, they chose an oversized platter of tiny finger sandwiches - ham, chicken, cheese, then one with double the amount of cheese and some cakes too, little over decorated pieces which seemed too dainty to eat when they arrived.

“I’ll get it” he mumbled, as soon as the waiter placed the cheque.

“No, I’ll get it” she countered, taking a sip from her lemonade.

“Flo…”

“Andy…”

“I don’t need you paying for me.”

“Halves then?” He offered before she could moan at him, knowing he’d never fully win this round.

“Fine.”

Monday, 12pm

After little consideration, Andrew picked up a cheese sandwich between a finger and his thumb - too fancy for him to comprehend, too small for the price they were paying. It was gone in two bites and he was unsatisfied so picked up another and another, wolfing it down with no regard for any possible future indigestion. They ate between polite conversation, surrounded by the sound of splashing from the pool water and quiet chatter from everyone else in the room. Flo chewed gingerly, watching people from where she was sat, occasionally lifting her head back to his gaze and turning away again when he was too much.

After polishing off the sandwiches he’d chosen, the sweetness of the cake distracted Andrew, hungrier than he’d realized and he savored each bite of sugar, licking his lips. Flo tilted her head into her palm, just taking him in, chuckling at how emotive his face was even in the quiet moments. He was busy pondering whether going for a swim in the small pool the hotel had would be the worse idea than skinny dipping in a creek in the dead of the night as he tried not to devour her with his eyes, when she spoke again.

“Do you regret meeting me?” Flo slurped the rest of her lemonade and sighed deeply, like she already knew the quite obvious answer that will fall from his narrow lips in the upcoming few seconds.

“Why would I?” He answered her with another question and she rolled her emerald eyes at him, “I don’t run from boars and climb trees with every girl I meet at the bar” Andrew smiled at her with the kind of smile that weakened her knees.

“It’s quite insane what we did so far…” she sighed again, rubbing her neck. Flo looked up at his face, leaning back in her chair, hoping he’d have something clever to say.

“What, em, you always wanted, but never had the courage to do it?” He asks out of sudden.

One corner of her mouth twitches upwards and she tilts her head to the side, but just a little, “Hmm… dancing. I always wanted to join a dancing class in my town, but I was too frightened to do so.”

“Why?” He leans over the table, his long body towering over the furniture. Andrew gently grazes his fingertips over her wrist and Flo flinched it backwards.

“Because I’m like an elephant in a glass castle.”

Andrew couldn’t help and laughed out loud, brushing the stray strands of his locks away from his face, “You’re a quite gorgeous elephant then, honey.”

She shakes her head at him, her straw hair moving around her head like a permanent halo and in that moment Andrew feels like he just found his own little angel, here in the middle of the woods.

“I shouldn’t even try to dance… I’d end up crushing people’s toes and probably like breaking few mirrors in the dance studio.”

“Oh love…” he laughs again, probably after picturing her trying to crush his toes with her tiny little feet, “I, em, I know one dancer myself.”

“A dancer?” Her eyebrow rises and she moves with her chair closer to the table.

“Yes, I did one music video with Sergei Polunin and-”

He wasn’t given the chance to finish his sentence, because Flo interrupted him quite violently with her high pitched voice, “Sergei Polunin?! You know Sergei Polunin?”

“Well, em, he’s a really nice guy” he said, giving her a little smile.

Monday, 12:30pm

“I’ve got another question for you, honey” he announced.

“Go on then” Flo sighed, intrigued.

“Where do you want to be in five years from now?

Flo tried to engage her brain, tried to think of an answer worthy of his question and one she would feel comfortable saying out loud. If someone ever asked her that question at the beginning of her adult live, she’d probably come up with many various things. A promotion, perhaps an engagement in the near future, the possibility of starting a small business on her own, a better place to live than the one she already had. But now all those things were irrelevant; she got that promotion, her boyfriend still wasn’t existing, she didn’t have enough funds to open that store on her own and she didn’t wanted to live at all now.

“I’m not… sure…” she sighed truthfully, needing just to say something to ease the anxiety bubble blowing inside her, “I- I thought I knew. But now, it’s…”

“Now it all changed?” He replied, soft, his eyes locked with hers.

“Yeah…” she said quietly, “everything is different.”

Andrew mulled it over for a second, trying to know what she feels now, what she’s thinking about now, but he was clueless what was the reason behind her coming to this god forsaken hotel in the middle of nowhere.

“Do you want to know what, em, I think?”

“Always.”

He wet his lips then spoke again, “Make a new list, really, em… just take out everything on the old one and, em, start over with whatever you want.”

She bit her lip focusing. What did she want?

She’d previously wished for a promotion - but she already got that. Then there was the engagement. An obvious one to throw in the bin. How could she even dream of starting a family when she had no one to start it with? And anything would be better than the apartment she currently still owned, but it was overly haunted with the ghosts of her past.

And then she considered what she really wanted.

More time to work on her hobbies, to become better in drawing. Perhaps to see more of the world. Finish all the creative projects she started, but never really had the time to finish them. To bake more cakes… She tried to form few cohesive sentences, but her reply wasn’t quite as sophisticated as she would’ve wanted it to be.

“Maybe in five years I’ll have traveled a bit more? Drew more pictures? I’ll find a hobby that excites me? Have more nights being drunk without worrying about the next morning?” She paused for a second, avoiding his eyes, so she could stare at the wall behind him, “I want to be shamelessly happy - and really feel it.”

He smiled, couldn’t help himself, felt his heart swell with pride at how much stronger she was since he’d first spoken to her and he was busy crafting a reply along those lines when she interrupted his train of thought.

“What about you, Andrew?”

It was stupid of him to assume that she wouldn’t ask, but the same question thrown back at him was a shock. He felt frustrated, unprepared.

A couple more albums? Maybe one fully acoustic? Another world tour? More time to rest? To focus on his own needs? Find his safe haven?

Andrew was so used to have everything mapped out, a response for every question, but he didn’t know how to put it in words now that she was asking. The pause was too long. Too uncertain.

“I just want to be, um, equally happy with my career and my personal life. If I really have one now…” he drawled, “I want to keep working on my music and, um, meeting amazing new people, rediscover myself somehow.”

“Rediscover yourself?” Flo asked him, her emerald eyes back and focused on his face.

That small smile that never left his lips when he was around her was too tempting, too inviting for her and she desperately tried to fight off the urge to lean over the table, move her body closer to him and just simply give in to the thought of feeling his mouth pressed closer to hers.

“Know who I really am, since I’m, em, quite far from that right now…”

Monday, 1:40pm

“So, what��s next?” She asked, her eyes full of inquisition and curiosity, looking at him like she just read his mind. He smiled warmly, pushed his fingers through his hair for good measure then pulled her into his side, his arm slinking around her, hand cupping her waist to hold her against him as they walked together. His fingers brushed against the fabric.

He pressed his lips close to her ear and murmured: “Tell me something you’ve never done, Flo Hayes.”

“Oh, not again…”

Monday, 1:45pm

“So you really never smoked a cigarette?” He asked, eyes wide, like he just seen a little green man in front of him.

“Never ever” Flo replied with a shrug, meeting his eyes as she tilted her head upwards to look at him. They were still in the corridor on their way back from the restaurant, linked together like old friends, his hand wound around her hip to keep her close. She watched him watch her as they walked, loved the curiosity in his eyes then added sarcastically: “Why? Do I look like a dirty smoker, Andrew?”

“Em, no, it’s just… I wasn’t expecting, I…” Andrew spluttered, never ready for her responses. She was so quick sometimes that it took him off guard, “you just look like someone who, em, tried many things in her life…”

“Is it my sweater? Well we both know that’s not true…”

Andrew rolled his eyes which prompted a laugh. He knew she was so much more interesting than she pretended to be, that she liked to portray her life as quiet and boring, but there were so many things about her that excited him - her passion, her drive, all her little secrets she kept so close, how well she held herself in every situation. He did like how in control she was but he also knew that there was so much more underneath the enigma she still was to him. He had a feeling that if he could just get her to relax a little more, push past that top layer of insecurity, then she would finally realize how wonderful she really was.

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outlaws-of-anarchy · 5 years ago

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Tainted Love (Chapter 4)

Pairings:  Tig Trager x Reader, Herman Kozik x Reader

Warnings: Heart break, angst

Words: 2400

Eyes ghosted across the yellowing stains along the ceiling, and the overwhelming, and forever looming stench of cigarettes plagued the mattress she lied on top of. It was quiet enough that she could hear a couple a few doors down fucking like wild, crazed, animals. After the blow out with Tig, Y/N had found sanctity in a dingy, worn down motel room. Yet, it was hard to disappear in a town that was ran by bikers, bikers that all knew just who she was.

“The differences between me and you doll is that I only love one woman that I fuck, and I come home to her every night.” Were the words that haunted her, further tightening the knots in her stomach.

It was no surprise that Tig fucked around with other women, but what had come as a shocker, was that he actually loved her. He saw her as more than just a pair of tits, or someone he could bury his dick in, he saw her as something else, some worthy of his untamable heart. Yet, he had been so reckless with hers, in fact, he had inflicted so many scars and seared his name into her heart, that she knew it would never heal properly.

Just like the part of her heart that had never fully recovered from Kozik’s abandonment.

She felt guilty, and she knew why she did. While Tig fucked whomever he wanted, it was never with someone he loved. Y/N, on the other hand, had fallen so hopelessly back into Herman’s trap, giving him her body, the one Tig had marked and claimed repetitively over the course of a year. It was not easy loving two men, it was damn near impossible, but she couldn’t help how she felt.

At the end of the day, she could see herself with either of them. There was Kozik who was more stable, his mood didn’t switch constantly, he was faithful; for the most part. He also had admitted in the past of wanting a family with Y/N. And then there was Tig who was a loose cannon, a man with no morals nor ethics. He didn’t care who he hurt, as long as he got what he wanted. He was a rip-roaring storm, wreaking chaos everywhere he went. They had never spoke about having kids, nor ever taking their relationship to the next level.

Was there even a next level with Tig Trager? Who knew.

☾ ☾ ☾ ☾

‘I’ll be there in an hour, finishin’ up some shit with Happy & Op.” Was the text from Kozik, and Y/N read it with a scowl.

She was now standing outside of the clubhouse, music raging in the background. It was another Saturday night and it was no surprise that was a party being held at the Son’s stomping ground. Kozik had messaged her earlier in the day, inviting her over, but she had refused. She didn’t want to see Tig, and she definitely didn’t want to be put between them again, who knew how another one of their fights would end. However, Kozik had sworn Tig wouldn’t be there, and after reminding Herman that she didn’t know what she wanted, she agreed to go and see him and the others.

As soon as she entered the clubhouse, the stale scent of old booze tickled the entrance of her nose. Overtime, the smell had become familiar, one that she recognized as home. Yet, once she left, she had stayed away, the smell now foreign in her mind and unwelcomed.

“Fox! Good to see you kid.” Bobby hollered from near the pool table, a cigar in hand.

Her lips tilted into a smile at the nickname, one she had earned amongst the ranks of men. If she had been a man, it was obvious she would have been a patched member of SAMCRO. The nickname had been given to her sly, vexing, dastardly ways when she drank too much. She had the habit of hustling the men out of their money at pool or even other drunken, party games.

Nonetheless, she was a valued member of the family, even though she was now treading dangerously over two men’s hearts.

“Bobby, I expect a game later.” She winked, which earned a chuckle from the man.

“No way darlin’, I ain’t ever bettin’ against you again.” He said.

She could only shrug with a large smirk. “Wise man!”

Men and women had begun flocking in, filling the club house idly. Most of them she knew, some were also crow eaters. Women who have a particular taste for leather-clad men and trouble.

She had found a place at the bar, making small talk with Juice as he kept her glass full. “Juicey, stop giving me refills. I won’t be able to get home tonight.” She growled playfully.

“This is your home, we are family. Just because you’re going through shit, doesn’t mean we stop caring. You can always crash in my room if you need to. Loosen up, you deserve it. I got you.” He leaned forward, ruffling her hair.

Y/N could only coo at the cute Pureto Rican before downing the remnants of her drink.

☾ ☾ ☾ ☾

An hour had come and gone and there was still no sign of Kozik, Opie, or Happy. Whatever they were doing had either gone completely south, or they were god awful slow. Yet, one person she hadn’t plan on seeing, showed up, his insatiable aura drawing her in, eliciting a fire in her belly that she thought had been doused.

He had glanced once in her direction but after that, refused to acknowledge her, even in the slightest. He was giving her the worst cold shoulder she had ever received, and the only way she could fix it, was drink. Maybe spending so much time with the outlaws had influenced her, forcing her to pick up terrible habits. Such as, drinking to relinquish the pain and frustration she felt.

“Give me something stronger.” She murmured to Juice.

He was quick to oblige, sliding her a double edge of whiskey and rum. The drink was one hell of a concoction, it also tasted like shit, but it began working it’s magic and that’s all she wanted. Something to help ease the memories away, to smother the temptations, and to demolish the pain.

Juice had passed his bartender duties onto a prospect, giving him time to sit down beside Y/N and to edge into a meaningful conversation. And although she tried to give him her undivided attention, she could only look longingly over his shoulder into Tig’s direction.

It wasn’t long before a crow eater had taken an interest in him, of course it was one of the usual’s. One that had been passed around from man to man, taking whatever, she wanted. Y/N was positive she had seen Tig hook up with this particular woman before, but she couldn’t exactly remember. She was more focused on the way she draped an arm around her ex’s shoulder and pressed her fake tits into his chest.

Being only a simple man, it was easy for Tig to get lost in the captivating woman in front of him. But no matter what, no matter how hard he tried, Y/N’s face was all he saw. Taking the form of every woman he had tried to bag within the last week and ultimately failed at. She had kicked up dust in his mind, making it hazy and uncertain. Yet with all the uncertainty of the feelings she produced, he still wanted her, still loved her.

Hell, he was probably the most fucked up individual in the room, but she never cared. She loved him, she stuck by his side, until it all went to shit.

☾ ☾ ☾ ☾

The last fifteen minutes, she had spent watching Tig and the crow eater make out in the corner of the club house. Every so often, Tig’s icy gaze would flicker in her direction, almost as if he wanted to make sure she was watching. The longer she spent staring, the more she grew angry, and the more her heart crumpled. If he was paying her back for what she had done with Kozik, then it was working.

It had been easy to slip into a severely intoxicated state, her judgement a little compromised, but everything she was feeling was everything she would have felt if she was sober.

Y/N’s cloudy eyes fell to Tig’s hands as they grabbed the woman’s ass, squeezing it while licking a stripe across her neck.

“I’m gonna be sick.” She slurred towards Juice before jumping out of the seat and rushing out the front door.

She used the wall as support, her body bent at an awkward angle as she tried upchucking all the liquor in her stomach. All that came out however, was empty retches and slight whimpers. The cold air of the night tickled her bare arms, forcing her into a state of relaxation. Instinctively she wiped at her mouth with the back of her hand, only getting rid of a bit of saliva.

“Fuck.” She groaned before pressing her back into the wall, leaning fully against it.

Slowly, her eyes had fallen closed as she tried to force the nauseous feeling away. When the door of the clubhouse squeaked open, she only assumed it was Juice checking in on her. “I’m fine Juicey, just needed some air.”

“You don’t look good pussy cat.” Tig said with a rough drawl.

His voice twisted around her body, squeezing it and making her nerves hum to life. Peeling her lids open, she glanced somewhat in his direction. “Thanks.”

“Where’s your boy toy at?” He asked.

Y/N tensed before pushing off the wall, stumbling forward a bit. Blazing eyes darted to the curly-headed biker, stepping cautiously towards him. “Don’t start with me Trager, I have enough shit going on in my head. I don’t need any of your bullcrap.”

He dug his hands into the fronts of his jeans, only offering her a snort. “What shit do you have going on? Trying to decide which dick you want to ride tonight? Maybe you’ll move onto one of the other guys. Ya know, you can be all of our personal little slut.”

Even in her inebriated state, she knew an insult when she heard it. So, it was no surprise when she slammed her hand into his cheek, feeling the sting on her own flesh, she knew she had landed a good one. “Don’t fucking talk to me like that. You out of all people have no room to talk about being a slut, as you’re dry fucking out in the open for everyone to see. You have no idea what I’m dealing with, how I’m feeling.”

His jaw flexed as he rubbed the red, irritated skin of his cheek. Within an instant, he was grabbing her wrists and forcing her back against the wall, pinning her arms above her head with a firm pressure. She struggled against him, bucking around like a bronco, but his hold was too strong.

“Get the fuck off me.” She spat venomously.

“Why did you do it? Why did you ruin what we had? Was he worth it?” He growled in her face.

His sudden questions made her shrink back before rediscovering her voice. “What we had? You mean me being devoted to you, loving you, while you went and fucked whoever you wanted, while you just used me? It was clearly nothing special Tig, because if you loved me like you claimed, then our situation would have been completely different.”

There was an evident pain in the depths of his eyes, but he quickly shielded himself, unwilling to show an ounce of vulnerability.

“You moved on pretty fast though, I’d get back to the bitch waiting for you.” She grunted, trying to jerk her wrists from his hands.

This only made him tighten his hold, her face contorting into a wince as she sucked in a breath.

“Are you jealous?” He asked.

Her eyes rolled dramatically as if he had asked the question, he should have known the answer to. “No shit, just because I slept with Kozik doesn’t mean I stopped loving you. I’m just trying to figure out everything, I’m trying to do what’s best for me. I can’t keep being hurt, it’s not fair, and it’s not fair that I keep hurting either of you.” Her voice softened.

Tears slowly began welling up before pushing towards the corner of her eyes and dripping down her cheeks. “I’m sorry Tig, but let’s face it. We weren’t ever going to last, you’re wild and free and I enjoy that about you, but I’m not the one who’s gonna tame you. I’m not gonna be the one who makes you want to stop fucking everything with a pulse. I’m j-just sorry.”

He looked down at her face, concern briefly flashing across his visage as he watched her silently cry. She was clearly in pain, not physical, but emotional. She felt guilty for what she had done with Kozik, and it was noticeable. She wanted his forgiveness, even if she couldn’t have his whole heart. She could settle with that, to just be forgiven for her betrayal. Yet, he wanted to be forgiven to, he wanted to give her his whole heart.

All the emotions he had developed over the months, were terrifying. But only because they were real, because they came from a place inside of him that he thought had died off a long time ago. She wasn’t perfect, but neither was he, and he continuously had hurt even if she had never verbally said so.

He could always see the disappoint in her eyes when she found hickies on his body that didn’t belong to her. Or when he would openly flirt with numerous women in front of her, knowing damn well she wouldn’t leave. He had hurt over and over, and she had stayed. She didn’t give up on him, she didn’t call him names, she didn’t do anything, just accepted it because she knew who he was.

But he didn’t want to be like that anymore, he wanted her.

“I’m what’s best for you pussy cat.” He said before crushing his lips into hers.

Chapter 5

#samcro #soa #sons of anarchy #herman kozik #tig trager #tig trager fanfiction #juice ortiz #happy lowman #jax teller #opie winston #chibs telford #fanfic

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arclundarchivist · 5 years ago

Text

A Raven’s Cry

(Spoilers for the Dalen’s Closet One Shot, I really enjoyed that final scene...but I felt like there were a few other characters that deserved more proper goodbyes.)

“I wish that Vax’ildan can say a few words at his sister's wedding.” The voice of a friend, power resounding in every word as it fought against the Divine Gate reached his ears and that of his Lady-Matron. She turned to look down at him for but a moment, before beckoning him towards her form, into the darkness beneath the cloak.

He walked free of the blackness that surrounded him, appearing on a pristine cliff side the sound of waves crashing against its base far below. Looking up he spotted...those he’d left behind, sadness, shock, and joy rolling off the like an encompassing fog. Like a beacon, his sister shone with the light of the Dawnfather, resplendent in her gown as tears began to well up in her eyes. Standing beside her Percival, slightly worse for wear, drenched in seawater stood staring at him with a hopeful but as always carefully coached expression, Pike stood before both of them, turning to look at him with...regret, tears welling in her eyes as well. Grog towered over the rest an unabashed wildly pleased smile on his face. Vax’s heart had not beat for over a year, but he knew if it still could it would have stopped when he spotted Keyleth standing beside Percy, shock in her eyes, tears on her cheeks soft sobs wracking her body. Lastly, his eyes fell to Scanlan, who stood there smiling his, “I’ve done a very good thing” smile his eyes misty as well.

“Scanlan Shorthalt.” He spoke, his voice raspier and slower than it had once been, a gasp from his twin causing him to pause longer than he had meant to, “You are toying with the designs of the gods still I see, old friend.”

For a moment the bard looks stunned, for once unable to find the proper words. When he finally spoke his voice was raw, “I didn’t have a present so...”

Several members of his family laugh just a bit sadly at the joke, and once he would have joined them, instead he simply sought to give them a bit more peace of mind.

“She will allow it.” He watched as Scanlan’s face morphed into an immense grin.

“Okay.” His friend half-whispered, much of the tension fleeing his form.

“And thank you.” Vax finished, turning ever so slightly away but finding himself not fully able to look at the face of his twin as of yet. She meanwhile fought for his gaze, stepping towards him several times before back-peddling, crunching the bouquet in her hands, her whole body shaking.

“Hello.” He said, slowly turning to face her.

“Can you come over here?” His sister pleaded, and with that, whatever kept him from looking towards her broke. He felt a soft smile break across his face as she looked him over, gesturing plainly to remove the mask he now wore. As he slowly pulled it free of his face, he watched as her own face broke into a wide tearful smile.

“Am I allowed to hug him.” Vex pleaded, to no one at first before turning to look at Scanlan, who shrugged stammering out, “I don’t know how this works.”

Before the bard had finished speaking however his twin had pulled him into a desperately tight embrace. Slowly he embraced her as well, nestling his head into her shoulder. She laughed, light and happy and then he spoke.

“I am so glad for you.” As the pulled apart still embracing each other's arms, a true smile on both of their faces, “A child!”

The joy within him eclipsed anything he had felt in quite some time as his sister laughed, nodding her head furiously.

“Yeah, a little girl,” Vex stated, still shaking, still on the verge of tears, but happy, so very happy at that moment. Vax felt the threads behind Creation pull and he could see his niece in the years to come growing, learning, being loved and giving it. It was to be a beautiful experience, one he would only be able to watch...from afar but still there would be beauty in her life, and within the lives of the many de Rolos that would follow her.

“Like our mother,” Vax stated, knowing full well who she would grow into.

“Yes, named after her,” Vex stated, her smile melting away as the tears came rolling down, “I miss you so much!”

“I know,” Vax stated, speaking more truth in that sentence than he ever had in life. His sister continued to sob, her body shaking with grief as he reached out and stroked her cheek, wiping away tears as he did so. She looked up at the caress, his comforting smile greeting her.

“I am no longer worried for you.” He stated, turning to look at Percival who had been managing to fight off the tears, a soft smile on his face, “I know...the de Rolo family is born anew.”

Percy continued to pleasantly smile, while a laugh and grin fought its way through his sister’s tears.

“Congratulations on this your first, of many blessings Percival,” Vax stated, eliciting another joyful laugh from his sister.

“Thank you.” Percival stated, leaning in ever so slightly, “Talk to her idiot.”

Keyleth laughed at that, and once more Vax felt as though his world would stop at that moment, even as a smile crossed his face, “Thank you.”

He turned back to his sister and stared for a moment. Which was shattered by his sister suddenly shaking him, yelling as she did so.

“Don’t be weird! Talk normal, talk normal!” Bringing a smile to his face, which coaxed another from her.

“Don’t worry about me.” He stated, drawing another laugh from her, “I am sage and taken care of. I am always with you.”

“I know.” Vex stated, her voice ever so slightly dejected, “I know.”

“You will live,” Vax stated, not just to her but to all of his found family, drawing tears that streamed down Pike and Keyleth’s faces, wistful smiles from Grog and Scanlan and sighs from his sister and her groom.

“As long as all of your hearts are beating I will live within them.” He continued, his sister nodding along with his words, “And my love will never dim.”

He focused once more solely on his sister, and he could feel the ghosts of tears and his own grief welling up inside, “How beautiful you look.”

“I am so proud of all of you.” He stated once more to all of them.

“Turn around dear.” His sister stated, pushing his face ever so slightly to look at Keyleth who had stood silently, weeping only feet from him. From deep within a wave of guilt rose as he looked at her standing with grief-stricken serenity.

She couldn’t quite look at him, and he found himself once more not fully able to look at her, and at that moment the side he had grown to know the past year took over.

“Hail to the Tempest.” He stated, bowing low before her.

“Don’t be weird!” His sister demanded, slapping him on the back of his shoulder, “Go hug her!”

Keyleth’s laugh cut through the tension, and he rose to face her fully. He moved, sliding towards her and embraced his beloved fully within his arms his wings encompassing the both of them.

“Hello.” Such a simple word, but the roiling meanings and emotions behind it carried onward all the same, “My love, my home, Zephra blossoms under your boughs as I knew it would.”

“It’s not the same without you.” His beloved stated, sniffling slightly as she melted into his embrace.

“It will not be.” He stated, the plain honesty of it all hurting him as well.

“How am I supposed to get over you if you keep sending Ravens to me?” Keyleth asked, looking up at him with deep, painful grief in her eyes, a dejected laugh on her lips.

He stood silent for a moment, still wrapping her within his embrace, and for a moment felt the need to take a step back only for her arms to lock around him tighter.

He looked deeply into her eyes, and smiled sadly, “I am...imperfect as are the Gods...”

A silence followed that had he not already seen eternity he would assuredly have felt was one until Keyleth broke the tension with a soft smile, and a softer touch to the bottom of his chin.

“That was my poor attempt at humor.” She remarked sadly, “I’ll never get over you.”

“Nor I.” He responded, once more with a truth he had never known in life. It was then that the kissed, a long slow affair his cold skin against her warmth, the Tempest and the Raven locked in one final embrace. They broke apart from each other, and Vax felt just a small hint of grief for the words that followed next.

“But you will live and your life will touch thousands.” Over the grief rose pride, as he stared at the women he had wanted more than anything to be his bride, to be the mother of his children, to be his final home and saw instead her rising to become a bastion of safety, calm and leadership for generations to come.

“Thanks to you,” Keyleth said, a sad smile on her lips as she rested her head against his shoulder.

He saw the threads branching out like the antlers atop of her head, he could see her finding new love, raising children that would not be his...though their futures could intersect with his in a number of ways, “Your children...”

He stopped as he watched Keyleth slowly and sadly shake her head, “I’ll watch over hers...and her.”

She looked up and he followed her gaze to his sister, who gave her own saddened smile.

“For as long as I live,” Keyleth stated, already the threads of her future realigning before his eyes.

Vax pulled her in tighter, his head bowed as he whispered into her ear, “I am far but not gone.”

“We know.” Keyleth returned, nuzzling into his neck ever so slightly.

The grief and guilt inside him became too much to bear as the last words left his lips, “Forgive me.”

Keyleth leaned back in their embrace and looked him deeply in the eyes. She began to shake her head, a soft smile playing across her lips, “There’s nothing to forgive.”

She kissed him on the cheek as she caressed the other, “Nothing. We get to go on because of you. It’s not taken lightly.”

He looked up and away from her his eyes falling on Pike, tears fresh in her eyes, “Your Grace.”

“I...I’m happy to know that you’re safe.” Pike choked out, though her smile was as luminous as it had ever been.

He turned to Grog, a slight grin crossing his face, “De Doink.”

Grog nodded, “Vax, I miss you brother.”

He then looked out and found the crowd that had come to aid and then watch the marriage of his sister, spotting the shocked faces of Allura and Kima, tears in the former's eyes, while the latter gave him a lazy wave and just shook her head with a smile. Tary had taken a step back, for all his pompous air he had decided to not insert himself at this moment.

“You are doing good work,” Vax stated, his voice a whisper but Taryon started as if it had been said by someone directly next to him. He smiled at Vex, wiping a few tears from his eyes and nodded, mouthing, “Thank you.”

He then turned to Scanlan, who looked at him with the love of a best friend, mentor and well even the pseudo-father-figure he and his sister had thrown upon him. Vax smiled and intoned once more, “Thank you.”

He stepped away from Keyleth and made to walk away from the group a bit when a voice rang out across the cliffside!

“Vax! Wait!” As he turned around he saw a small figure pry their way free of the crowd and then race towards him as fast as their legs could carry them. As if emboldened by that action two more figures broke free of the crowd and made their way towards him, one almost as frantic as the first figure and the last at a more sedative pace.

Velora raced towards him her brown hair bobbing frantically in the wind, the owlbear feather pinned within holding firm despite the speed at which she raced towards him. Tears were flying free of her face and falling to the ground behind her.

He knelt down, opening his arms as he did so as she fell into his arms with a joyful sob. He picked her up as he had done two years ago, her arms wrapped fiercely around his neck.

“You’re back!” She cried, pulling away tears still streaming down her face, “I told Simon you’d come back!”

“For...for this moment yes I have returned,” Vax stated, smiling softly at his younger sister.

“For the moment?” Velora asked, new tears beginning to brim in her eyes, “Why, why can’t you stay?”

“I made a promise Velora.” Vax said, wiping the tears from her eyes and moving a bit of her windswept hair from her face, “And one must always keep their promises.”

“I don’t want you to go!” She cried out, her grief magnified by how young she was, “It’s not fair! Please stay! Please!”

Vax looked up at Keyleth and Vex, both with fresh tears in their eyes, “You’re right little sister, it is not fair...but I will never be far from you. I am your big brother, and that will never change. The blood in your heart is the same as mine, and you will always carry a part of me with you, isn’t that right Simon?”

The Belt in response to his voice unfurled, long and sinuous and curled up Velora’s arm, his head bopping her playfully in the cheek, his tongue shooting out to lick away a few of the tears.

“Take good care of each other.” Vax stated, and know that if you ever hear a raven in the middle of the night...it’s a friend of mine making sure you sleep safe and sound.”

“You’re friends with Ravens?” Velora asked, childlike wonder briefly replacing her grief.

“I’m very good friends with their Queen.” He returned giving her a soft smile, as he turned and spotted the others that had come up to him.

“Velora darling, come over here please,” Vex said, opening her arms into a welcoming embrace which Velora greedily took to.

Vax turned to the second figure, his long ash-blonde hair also tousled by the wind, his young face marred with grief and anger.

“Kynan Leore...it’s been some time since we last spoke,” Vax stated, looking him deeply in the eys.

“I...I failed again sir.” He said, refusing to meet Vax’s eyes, “I couldn’t protect the people I was supposed to.”

Vax reached up and placed a comforting hand on the younger man’s shoulder, “I would never blame you for what happened here today. Nor would anyone here, I know as well as you that had Sylas Briarwood come for Lady Cassandra, you would have fought with every single ounce of your strength and spirit to keep him far from her.”

“I...I don’t deserve your praise sir.” Kynan stated, still looking down at his feet.

“You more than almost anyone deserve my praise.” Vax stated, “You have come far in spite of me, and I know that you’re future will be one bright and filled with more than a few surprises."

Kynan stood up a bit taller but still fought meeting Vax’s gaze, “I promise I’ll do my best to keep your family safe, even though...they have much more capable guardians than me.”

“You are more capable than you think, and despite your doubts of yourself I know you will continue to be more than worthy of that second chance,” Vax said.

Kynan finally looked up, a few tears sliding free of his deep brown eyes, “Thank you Vax.”

Vax then turned...and moved to embrace the final person, Shaun Gilmore.

“Shaun, I am sorry,” Vax stated softly, as Gilmore hugged him, more sedated the Keyleth but still comforting and intense in its own way.

“Vax, the only thing you will ever have to apologize to me for...is being much too pretty for your own good,” Gilmore stated, with a laugh on his lips and tears in his eyes. Keyleth laughed as well, a beautiful happy laugh.

Vax pulled away, staring at the man who had once had his heart, and who still carried within his own heart a love for him, and smiled ever so slightly.

“If you won’t take my apology will give you something that you more rightly deserve instead,” Vax stated, still smiling warmly.

With that, he kissed Gilmore on the forehead, and then whispered two words, “Goodbye.”

Gilmore laughed, tears tracking down his face, “Thank you.”

With that Vax stepped back, turning to look at them all, a single tear tracking down his cheek, his sisters, found, twin and younger, his found brothers, the young man who had only ever wanted to follow in his footsteps, the man he had once loved and the woman he still did and smiled, “Thank you. Live.”

He looked over and spotted Trinket approaching, and reached out to scratch the great bear under the chin as he disappeared, “No, I didn’t forget you boy, I know you’ll take care of them.”

Trinket huffed appreciatively, and marched back towards Velora and Vex, licking the tears off the former's face, eliciting a peel of laughter.

And as returned to the darkness beyond he heard Vex cry out on last time, “Wait! What about the boots?”

Another tear tracked down his cheek, his laughter joining the echoes of his friends as he was carried beyond the Divine Gate for the final time.

#critical role #vox machina #vax'ildan #vex'halia #keyleth #vax'leth #scanlan shorthalt #velora #kynan leore #shaun gilmore

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jetblackpayne · 5 years ago

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Dazed & confused

✧･: *✧･ﾟ: * 　*:･✧*:･ﾟ✧

summary: In which Arden Keaton (OC, half!witch, time traveller!from present) travels to 1984 to fix the timeline for the sake of her future. She’s left Dazed and Confused. BASED OFF RUELS SONG

warning(s): part of another series (aka i’m too lazy to write and wanna write this first), language, sexual situations.

a/n: this was rushed lol. lmk if i should change it to make it less choppy/spelling corrections. AND OR IF IT MAKES NO SENSE ILL CHAT YOU IN THE COMMENTS AND MAKE IT CLEAR!⚡️⚡️😁

key: italics = flashback

bold = arden’s thoughts

bold italics = others thoughts

✧･: *✧･ﾟ:*:･✧*:･ﾟ✧✧･: *✧･ﾟ:* :･✧*:･✧･ﾟ:*✧

PART i.

Arden Keaton woke up with a sudden urge to vomit. Her head was spinning as her eyes began to well up with tears. What just happened? Why do I feel different? She woke up in Murder House as she normally would but something to her seemed off. What was once her bedroom coated in lilac walls and light carpeting against cherry wood floors was now white cracked paint and nails sticking out of the floorboards. More hazard, dangerous, and unkept then she remembered. What happened to this place? For some unknown reason, her mind kept trailing. She couldn’t call out for help or question to her family or to the ghosts why her room looked the way it did. She felt as though she didn’t belong. She couldn’t feel half of the souls trapped in this house as she did before. Her friends Tate not Violet we’re present. A pounding sound suddenly filled her ears from the thin walls echoing through the narrow halls. Her head snapped up in surprise as she walked out of her room. She walked along side the doors, attempting to feel some type of energy from the rooms. Her tracks stopped beneath of a room she had yet to explore, the attic. Her gaze travelled up the suspended ladder as her hands and feet hooked onto the ledge one at a time. When atop, her heart stopped when she found Nikki and Sam Argento, the two loudest ghosts in Murder House screwing each other like some sort of kinky ritual. The woman’s wrists tied to the bedpost in the attic as a knife trailed down her collarbone to cut the strap of her bra off.

Arden gasped. Her hands feeling weak at the sight. Arden felt her body draw from the only thing keeping her stable as she landed on the ground with a thud echoing throughout the house. The sound of meaning and pounding against the wall was silenced. The two stopped in thier moment with wide eyes, “Who’s there?” She heard Nikki yell from the top. Arden scrambled up and ran to the staircase trying to keep her footsteps quiet as possiable. Where is my family? She took out her phone to see her worst nightmare, ‘No Service.’ What is going on?

Arden deceased down the main staircase as quietly as she could. She didn’t know what was going on. She walked into what her family called the ‘family room’ and walked over to the television. Her head lowered as she started intensely at the picture box; goring almost with a palm stuck out. The TV began to flicker as the static became clear. Arden cocked an eyebrow in confusion, the signal usually was great; static was unusual for her to see. The televisions signal slightly cleared up with a grainy effect. *“James Keaton, a young man, age of 19, the youngest ever to graduate from MIT was at his weekly press conference last night. He had some shocking yet releaving information to share with the world.”* The women on the news channel spoke. Arden’s heart pace quickened hearing her fathers name being mentioned. This had to be some sort of prank. The bottom right corner of the screen made her heart drop; there was no way. June 13, 1984. She didn’t know what to think let alone say in this moment. Either I’ve seen the light, or i’m loosing my mind.. The channel finally cut to a new scene. It was her father when he was younger. Arden could distinctly remember the photos framed on the wall above the fireplace in thier old home and the ones mounted on the counters. She could have sworn she’d seen a picture of him in that exact moment. *He looked as if hewere glowing yet looked around at the press with a nervous glance. “I am the Iron man.” He spoke as the crowd went crazy. He then proceeded to sit down in his seat behind the podium. The scene cut to the woman again as she smiled, “Los Angeles has their very own superhero; and it’s James Keaton, genius, soon to be billionaire, also known as Iron Man. Clever name for a clever guy!* The television suddenly went black. Arden’s eyes glued on the void lingering in the still-air.

“What the hell are you doing in our house?!” Nikkis voice shouted from the top of the stairs. Arden’s heart dropped into her stomach as her mouth ran dry. The woman had on a silky bubblegum pink robe untied revealing her lingerie set to the teenager. Behind her was Sam. His arms crossed over his chest as he stood in confusion.

“I’m sorry.” Arden spoke, “I’m not supposed to be here for another 35 years.” Arden stepped over to the staircase placing a nervous hand on the railing. Even the words that came out of her mouth cane as a shock. How was she so calm? “You see it might sound crazy but I fell asleep in 2019 and woke up here in 84. I don’t know what to do.” Arden didn’t feel guilty telling them. They were ghosts in her present house and she was sure they would remember her. “I didn’t mean any harm but I don’t know what to do. My parents are my age.” The couple exchanged glances. Arden read into their minds only to be thinking the same thing, What the hell? “I know what you’re thinking literally it might sound crazy—”

“The amount of shit we’ve seen going on in this house, nothing seems crazy anymore.” Nikki cut her off offering her a small smile. She returned the gesture with a slight pink tint to her cheeks. The couple were still in thier underwear behind the masks. “You don’t look too harmful to me.” she smirked walking down the stairs, “What’s your name?”

“Arden Keaton.”

“As in James Keaton?” Nikki stood stunned.

“In like 18 years time.”

“Bitchin” Sam spoke now beside his partner kissing her temple, “That’s your old man.”

Arden cringed at the term. She gave them a fake smile and snickered playing along, “Yep.”

“Well Arden,” Sam spoke looking down at her small frame, “If you’re gonna be here anyways, you can stay with us obviously.” Arden’s body shifted in slight discomfort. She knew what this couple was known for and being in the midst of that would be disturbing to say the least. “Don’t worry, we won’t keep you up all night with our noises.” He smirked at his significant other as she nibbled on the exposed skin on his neck. He sucked in a hitched breath as his eyes rolled back with pleasure.

Arden’s nose scrunched up, “I guess.”

“It’s settled then!” Nikki smiled again her.

Something to Arden didn’t make sense. Sure considering it is her house in 35 years, she should stay but in thier present time, it’s not. Why would they let her stay like it’s normal? “I’m sorry,” Arden spoke catching them in mid makeout session, “Why are you being so nice to me? I mean I woke up here, told you I was from the future, yet you treat me like i’m not crazy?”

“Like we mentioned, we live in the Murder House, nothing seems too crazy for us anymore.” Nikki wrapped a lazy arm around Sam. They smiled at the girl.

“Well.. t-thank you.” She stuttered a bit shaken up from what she found out.

“You seem tense.” Nikki pondered looking at Arden’s figure. Her shoulders were broadened, eyes diverted to the ground, and hands folded in front of her. “You need to let loose and I know just the thing.” Nikki ran over to the small closet near the front door. Rummaging through the racks she picked out two very bright workout outfits. She slung the two pieces over her shoulders and popped one hip out. To Arden, the outfits looked like a cry for attention; a good or bad cry was still being debated. “Were going to the aerobics studio!”

Arden tossed the woman a small smile. Maybe this would be good for me..

ii.

Sam stayed behind while Arden and Nikki were off to the studio. When they arrived, they went thier separate ways planning to meeting up later. Arden was currently stood in front of a full length mirror. On her body was one of the outfits Nikki gave her. The top was a hot pink bandeau under blue striped spandex suspenders. A buckle above her hips strapping over her belly button. "What the hell am I wearing?" Arden asked herself looking at herself. Her back arched as she looked at the leotard basically up her butt. She twirled amd reached her hands over her head in a semi-seductive way, admiring her look slightly, but she’d never admit it.

"A sexy aeroba-fit that will make all the guys pop a boner." A voice remarked behind her. Her gaze followed it to find a girl in her 20s if not Arden’s age, smirking in her direction. Her hair looked like she dyed and fried it too much. Her was face caked in makeup. She had on a leopard print leotard on; underneath were black leggings paired with platform boots. Interesting. “Don't worry, i'm not a les," The blonde spoke as she smacked her gum against her teeth smirking, "Just friendly." She beamed, "I'm Montana Duke by the way."

"Arden."

“You got a last name, Arden?” Montana challenged narrowing her brown eyes to the girl who stood a good few inches taller than her. Arden would have found her intimidating if she were weaker than her. She knew that wanst the case. She admired Montana Duke for her assertiveness and confidence. There was no way Arden introduce herself to anyone here without feeling awkward of it.

“Ke-” She thought for a moment noting a look of curiosity from the stranger across her. She couldn’t tell the girl her name. After all her father was famous for his now exposed identity for being a superhero and whatnot. The only reason why she told the overstimulated couple was because they once lives in her house; she would know them once she got back to present time as who was once living. Thier souls embodied in the wall of Murder House. She had no idea who this chick was. She couldn’t possibly trust her even if she held a knife to her throat. “Kline.” She firmly spoke.

“As in Calvin?”

“Far descent but yes.”

“Can’t possibly be that far if you have the same last name babe.” Montana smiled as she grabbed hold of the girls hand. Arden tensed up and Montana felt it, “Now let’s go Miss. Kline. Don’t wanna be late for your class.”

“I don’t have a class set up!”

“You do now. I’m sure X would let you join if you’re with me. I can tell we’re gonna be very good friends.” And they were off to class. Arden was a little anxious but she didn’t know why. She wouldn’t remember these people in the long run so why should she care what they think of? The two girls stepped into the bright room. Montana let go of Arden’s hand and practically ran to A hunky blonde Ken-doll. His features, to her, mirrored an angel. His perfectly gelled blonde hair was held up with a lilac headband. His clothes were light as well. White tank top and lilac shorts. The matierial hugged his body well. Arden couldn’t help but bite her lip unintentionally. Montana conversated with him as his gaze suddenly turned to Arden’s, winking in her direction. His tongue ran over this pearly white teeth. He gave her a sly wave. Arden felt her stomach drop as he left cheeks flourished. Her hand went up slightly to give him a shy wave. He laughed a bit looking at her again, he admired her shyness. If only he knew she wasn’t THAT shy.

Pretty soon class started and a few more people to Montana’s taste strolled in earning a wave. Arden stayed close to the back with a brunette girl who introduced herself as Brooke Thompson. They made quick conversation being thier first time in the studio, except Brooke wanted to come. Arden came with Nikki’s suggestion; she had no idea where the woman was. That was far beyond her concern. The sound of Frank Stallones, ‘Far from home’ began to fill the small room. X walked up to the front and began to stretch. His arm crossed his collarbone hugging it with the other. Once again, winking in the girls direction. She smiled at him and looked to the ground. This was gonna be a long day.

iii.

Arden began to hum/quietly sing the tune to Hanson's, 'Mmmbop' as she exited the women's locker room. The Montana and Brooke, whom she met prior, trailing behind her. Arden walked up to the counter and ordered a mango smoothie when she saw three guys converting. She recognised them from the slimmercise class she took. One being the the instructor and the one Montana mentioned, X. The one who couldnt keep his eyes off of her. X stopped what he was saying to look at her. He stared at her body licking his lips as his friends began to check her out. Arden sighed as she saw the hungry eyes melt into the back of her head. She began to read the filthy thoughts they had of her and shuttered. "You know it's not polite to stare." Arden turned around flipping her hair over the shoulders in the process. Batting her eyes, she took a sip of her smoothie. Where did this confidence come from? The boys stood there speechless at the sudden accusation; which happened to be true.

"I'm sorry sweetheart." X spoke as he stepped in ground of her. His perfectly structured jawline sharpened as he smiled at the girl. She couldn't help but blush at his gesture. He stuck his hand out to her, "I'm Xavier." He spoke as she looked at his hand. She finally knew what the letter stood for. "This is Chet and Ray." He motioned to the two other muscular guys behind him. Arden looked down at his empty hand and reached out for it. She brushed her hand against his smooth one to give him a gentle touch. Without warning, her mind clouded as her vision became blurry. She saw Xavier in a park with a needle in his arm. His pants soaked with his own urine. His eyes puffy from crying. Why did he let himself get like this? Just then a man came up to him and talked to him about the film industries he's worked in, "I could make you a star. With a pretty face like that, you could reach big places. And i'm gonna help you get there." He placed a hand on his inner thigh; groping is ever so slightly. "Trust Daddy." The man smirked at the broken man in front of him. Xavier nodded as he helped him up. Arden gasped as she stumbled into his arms. His smirk faltered to a scared expression. He snaked his arms under hers in a deadlift as her weight shifted onto him. He lifted her body over to the couch and looked around to see if anyone had seen the incident unfold. Nothing. The people in the lobby passed by doing anything but looking in thier direction. Chet, Ray, Brooke, and Montana rushed over to the couch as a drop of blood seeped it’s way down her drained face. None of them knew what to think.

“Good going man,” Ray said placing a hand on her shoulder wiping the dropping blood down her nose with a napkin from the counter, “You broke her!”

“Piss off!” Xavier exclaimed to his friends accusations, “I didn’t do anything. She grabbed my hand and went down. Then again most girls do.” Xavier and Chet shared a smirk.

Brooke rolled her eyes at thier childish behaviour. A girl just passed out in front of them and thier connecting it to thier hookups?

“That doesn’t explain why her nose is bleeding.” Montana spoke catching thier attention. They shook her off focusing on the limp girls body on the couch. What were they to do?

“Did you squeeze the poor girl too hard?” Chet asked.

“No fuck-face.” Xavier looked down at the girl. Her eyelids twitched slightly as her mouth parted. She sucked in a shaky breath as she opened her eyes slowly. The light from the ceiling blinding her. She hissed as she sat up and held her throbbing head. Xavier quickly sat next to her, taking her small hand into his large one, "Are you alright? Can I do anything?”

Her cheeks tinted as his simple gesture made her heart flutter. “Sorry about that.” She replies sheepishly

“Never has anyone in my class faint before.” He smirked at the thought. He leaned his body on the pillow her head was once on; elbow propped up holding his head in place looking up at her, “Guess you could say you ‘fell for me.’”

“Ugh,” Montana groaned and rolled her head back in annoyance, “Give me a break.”

Arden laughed at her remark. Xavier looked at her a winked at her making her flourished cheeks heat up more.

° :. *₊ ° . ☆ ✮ ° :. *₊ ° . ☆✮ °:.*₊ ° . ° . •°:.*₊ ° . ° . •

taglist: *based on reblogs/votes on this mini series*

@arkhamren @lourdlangdon

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