#he’s afraid he wouldn’t be able to give himself to save her if he had some happiness of his own to give up

[francesderwent]

“Lockwood,” I said, “I need to apologize. About recently. I’ve not been myself.”

It was a tight corridor; we walked almost side by side, following the beam of light. His voice was calm and quiet in the dark. “Well, neither have I,” he said. “After what happened at the Wintergarden house, I’m afraid I haven’t treated you very well. I know I might’ve seemed standoffish. It’s just—” he took a deep breath—“I didn’t trust myself to be with you. I was too anxious about what might happen.”

I stepped carefully over a fallen stone. Water was pooling around our feet. “Um, what might happen in exactly what sense?”

“In an operative situation, when our lives were in danger. Your Talent is just so extraordinary, Lucy—yes, we go left here; I know it looks like sewage, but it’s algae, mostly—I mean, I heard you talking to that thing just now. It’s getting easier for you, isn’t it? It’s not just the skull anymore. It’s unique, your Talent, but it makes you so vulnerable. And I have to look out for you.”

Something knotted tightly in my chest. In the dark of my mind I saw again the palely smiling face. “No, Lockwood, you really don’t. You mustn’t. It’s not your responsibility to—”

“But it is, Luce. Look, I know I don’t talk about it, but it’s happened to me before. Losing someone dear to me. I can’t let it happen again.”

[fandoms-x-reader]

Acts of Service

Requested By: @herdrops

Oneshot

Summary: Belphie does his best to speak your same love language. Belphegor x Shy! Reader Word Count: 2,093

No one in their right mind would say that you and Belphie had a good start to your relationship. 

His heart had been filled with so much hatred towards humans. He didn’t want anything to do with them.

He believed that all humans should die. The same way his sister did.

Nightmares of Lilith’s death plagued Belphie as often as they plagued his twin brother. He didn’t have to choose between the two of them as Beel did, but he felt just as responsible for her death. He felt as though he could have done more to prevent her death.

And one of those things he believed he could have prevented was the love she felt for humans - one in particular.

Belphie was the first among his brothers to take an interest in humans. He had even gone down to the human world to observe them closer. And following in her big brother’s footsteps, Lilith did the same.

But her trips turned from ones that satisfied her curiosity to ones that held an intent to see someone in particular. A man that she had fallen in love with. A relationship that she kept hidden from everyone else.

But, then that man was struck with an incurable illness and Lilith stopped at nothing to save him, even giving him food from the Celestial Realm.

It was strictly forbidden for an angel to alter a human’s lifespan and so she was sentenced to death.

That’s how her brothers found out about her relationship with the human - with the announcement of her execution. And they refused to let it happen.

Their refusal to allow their sister to die is what caused the Celestial War and what caused them all to fall from grace. And she still died in the end.

Belphie blamed himself for not being able to save Lilith. Maybe if he had been a better brother she would have told him about her lover instead of keeping it a secret. Maybe if he hadn’t taken an interest in humans then neither would she have and she would have never been sentenced to death in the first place.

But, Belphie also blamed humans. He believed that they were at the root of all the bad that happened to his family. They were the reason he lost his baby sister.

So, when Diavolo announced that he would be bringing humans to the Devildom, of course Belphie put up a fight. He thought his brothers were crazy for not fighting alongside him.

When Belphie saw you for the first time, he had to admit he was a bit taken aback by how attractive you were. But, he couldn’t let himself think that way. He couldn’t let himself fall for the same trap that Lilith did.

He was only talking to you because he needed your help to escape the attic. You were a means to an end and once he escaped from the makeshift prison he was going to ensure that you met your end.

And he kept that promise that he made to himself.

He knew Lucifer would be angry that he killed you, but he didn’t expect to see his other brothers’ reactions. He didn’t expect them to look so scared and heartbroken. What was wrong with them? Did they not remember?

When Belphie saw that you were somehow still alive, he knew that there was something different about you. And there was no point in trying to attack you again. If it wasn’t for the fact that Diavolo would kill him before he got the chance, it was for the way that his twin brother begged him not to hurt you.

He knew he shouldn’t let himself be convinced to give you a chance. He knew how dangerous humans were. He knew how easily they could be loved. But he still let himself fall.

Nightmares of Lilith’s death shifted to nightmares of your death the more he got to know you.

It didn’t take long for him to realize what a terrible mistake he made. He wanted to make things right with you, to apologize until he was blue in the face.

But what were the right words to say to someone you killed?

Belphie wasn’t afraid that you wouldn’t forgive him. He had seen how kind and understanding you were with his brothers. Despite everything that had happened to you in the Devildom so far, you still wore a smile.

He was more afraid that you would forgive. He wanted you to, but he felt like he wasn’t worthy of it. At least not yet. Not before he had found a way to make it up to you.

But he was running out of time. Your year with them would be ending soon and he didn’t have nearly the same amount of time his brothers had to form a relationship with you.

So, he offered you the only thing he could think of to show you that he had changed - himself. More specifically, a pact with him.

A pact wasn’t something demons willingly handed out without asking for something in return. It gave you the power to control his every move. To manipulate him in any way you wished. It was something that made him more vulnerable to you than he had ever been in his life.

But he hoped that his vulnerability would be proof of how he trusted you. Of how you changed his mind and opened his heart to humans. At least, to one of them. One was a start, right?

He wanted to spend as much time as possible with you before you left. He would make sure to join in with the others as often as he could when they were hanging out with you. And he would also do everything in his power to steal you away.

It was hard for the brothers to complain when Belphie was the one who was taking you away from them because they knew how little time he had with you comparatively. 

But there was only so much you could get to know about a person when you had a deadline. And that deadline came up way quicker than anyone expected.

Before you knew it, you were standing in front of everyone saying your heartfelt goodbyes.

Belphie hugged you a few seconds longer than he probably should have, not wanting to let you go.

He didn’t know when he was going to see you next and there was still so much he wanted to say to you. So much he wanted to do with you. 

It wasn’t until you came back to the Devildom that yours and Belphie’s relationship changed for the better.

Belphie knew that you were shy. He had witnessed you blushing at the smallest things or avoiding his gaze when he was trying to talk to you.

Each time you did it, you ended up looking more adorable in Belphie’s eyes.

He knew that your bashfulness sometimes prevented you from speaking what was on your mind.

He wasn’t bothered by it in the slightest. Having Beel as a brother, Belphie learned that sometimes actions spoke louder than words.

And he picked up on every action you did. 

At first, it was small things like making sure his favorite pillow was always clean or making sure the attic stayed at Belphie’s perfect temperature. But then there was the instance with Lucifer.

Belphie had overslept and was late to class. As a punishment, Lucifer gave him a large stack of homework to do as well as a list of chores. They all had to be done before Lucifer got back from his meeting or Belphie would be in big trouble.

Knowing that, the Avatar of Sloth still decided to fall asleep as soon as he got home.

He promised himself that it would be a quick nap. He really didn’t want to have to deal with Lucifer if he didn’t do what was asked of him.

But, when you went to check on Belphie, you saw that he was completely passed out. There was no chance of anyone waking him up in the near future.

And, if you did manage to wake him up, you should fear for your life because he wouldn’t be in a great mood having been awakened from such a peaceful slumber. 

The last thing that you wanted was for Belphie to get in more trouble with Lucifer.

You understood that Belphie had a hard time controlling his sin just like all of the brothers. Lucifer never got in trouble for being prideful so why should Belphie get in trouble for being tired?

You took it upon yourself to help him out. You made sure to fill out the homework that was sitting on the desk - it was surprisingly easy considering it was all assignments you had already done.

And after that, you quickly moved to do the chore list. It wasn’t the best effort you’ve ever put into cleaning; but, you were focused on getting it all done rather than the quality of your work.

Belphie would never put extra work into the chores anyway so if you had, Lucifer would have known right away.

Belphie woke up to the sound of Lucifer closing the door to the House of Lamentation. A sound that was ingrained into each of the brother’s minds as if it was a bad omen.

He immediately panicked and scrambled to his feet. Lucifer was going to kill him.

Sure enough, the eldest opened the door moments later, and walked in with a scowl on his face, ready to unleash hell upon his youngest brother as he moved to examine the homework. Belphie took a step forward, his mind racing with excuses to give.

“Lucifer,” Belphie began to say but the eldest cut him off. “You finished all of your homework?” Lucifer asked, looking at Belphie suspiciously.  Belphie’s eyes fell to the papers in Lucifer’s hands and noticed they were all filled out.

“And I saw that you got all of your chores done,” Lucifer added. Belphie was filled with confusion more than anything. He did? Lucifer was pleasantly surprised but didn’t dare say so.

He left Belphie alone in his room, for once not having anything to lecture him on.

Belphie sat down on his bed, trying to comprehend how everything managed to get done when all of his thoughts landed on you. 

Belphie had never felt such gratitude in his life. And it also sparked something inside of him. A different feeling that he wasn’t sure he had ever felt before. He just couldn’t quite place his finger on what it was.

Belphie wanted to show his gratitude but he knew that too big of a gesture would scare you off. So he resorted to showing his affection the same way you did.

They were small acts that the two of you shared.

You would be his personal alarm clock, always making sure he was on time to school so that he didn’t get in trouble with Lucifer again.

You would make sure to bring him his favorite drinks with caffeine in them to keep him energized throughout the day.

And if he really felt like he couldn’t make it, you would help hide the fact that he was sleeping in class.

In return, whenever Belphie was spending time with you, he would do everything he could to show how much he wanted to be there.

If it was one of his brothers he would zone out without a care in the world. But he wanted to listen to what you were saying and pay attention to every word. And he wanted you to know that he felt that way.

If he had an extra burst of energy, he would do your chores for you, a reminder of the time that you saved him.

Your relationship was full of small acts and secret longing glances. You would admire him from afar and if he ever caught you, it would always bring a smile to his face.

When he was awake, he spent his time admiring you as well, and he wouldn’t be afraid if you noticed him, wanting to see the cute blush that you always got when you did catch him.

It wasn’t a grand proclamation of love. It was a hundred unspoken confessions under the guise of simple acts and sneaky looks of yearning.

It was a language that none of the other brothers would understand.

A dialect that was meant only for the two of you. 

[xo-hugs-n-kisses-ox]

Rumination

Ruminate

(v.) To think about something deeply

After Edward left her, Bella Swan fell apart. Desperate to try and save his eldest daughter, Charlie brings his youngest daughter to Forks to see if she can bring her sister out of her depression.

Now, y/n must try to help her sister find her way back to the light while also trying to navigate her Junior year of high school in the odd town of Forks.

Chapter Seven: Confrontation

---

Now playing: Monsters by Hurricane Bells

Warnings: mentions of heart attacks resulting in death (Harry Clearwater), mentions of suicide (Bella jumping off the cliff at La Push), cursing, mentions of funerals, Edward is introduced (his dramatic ass is a warning in and of itself I’m afraid)

Everyone keeps trying to force Paul and I into the same space. It’s driving me mad.

I don’t want to talk to him until he apologizes, and he’s been stubbornly silent on that front. All I want is an apology for his actions, and all’s forgiven. Mostly.

It makes me snappish and irritable whenever anyone tries to force proximity between the two of us. It has a similar effect on Paul, who’s taken to staying out of the house.

Sam and Jacob keep giving Paul meaningful, pointed little looks that I don’t understand. Even Bella’s been roped into their bullshit, dragging me along with her to Emily’s when she knows Paul is there.

Victoria’s still being hunted by the pack, so it’s not like I could just stay home. As much as I’m starting to resent it, I’m safer at the Rez.

---

“Why haven’t you been hanging out with me recently?” Max demands, sitting down beside me in Physics. I sigh.

“Max, I’ve been busy—”

“With work? Chelsea said you quit.” I didn’t like how accusatory he sounded, and my already touchy nerves bristled.

“I have shit to do outside of school Max,” I tell him, my voice harsher than I intended, “Sorry if I haven’t been able to make room in my schedule for everything for the last week.”

“Don’t act like that,” he hissed, “You’ve been ditching me to go to the reservation with your other friends and—”

The bell rings, cutting him off. He gives me a long look before muttering, “We’ll talk about this later.”

I sigh forcefully, knowing that this day was just going to go to shit.

---

I was right.

The day did go to shit. I failed my math test, US History assigned a shit ton of homework due by the end of the week, and Max wouldn’t leave me alone about my six day absence in his life.

He managed to corner me before I could escape to my truck, pulling me aside by the side of the school.

I sighed, “Max, I really don’t have time for this today—”

“You don’t have time for me ever, anymore.” He challenged, interrupting me. I stared at him flatly and he scoffed, “Don’t give me that look, you know I’m right. You’ve been running off with those freaks from the reservation, the ones in the gang!”

I made a face before I could stop myself, “They aren’t in a gang, you moron,” I told him, “And they aren’t freaks, either.”

He scoffed, “Whatever, Y/n. You know, after you dropped that freak, Paul, or whoever, I thought we had something going, you know? But now you’re running back to him like a—”

He cut himself off, and I quickly demanded, “Like a what, Max?”

He just shook his head, “Run back to your freak show already, they’re waiting for you.”

He turned and left, and I stomped towards my truck. Bella and Jacob were already waiting for me, and Jared was sitting in the bed of the truck as he peered over at me.

“What was that about?” Bella asked, getting into the passenger’s seat as Jacob hopped into the back with Jared.

“Nothing.” I hissed, slamming the door shut and peeling out of the parking lot.

---

We all got to Emily’s and Bella was quick to shower and change.

I sat with Emily as she made stew, telling her about my day. Dinner was ready at seven thirty sharp, and everyone rallied around the table as Bella helped me plate all the food.

Quill, Embry, and Paul walked in just as I put rolls onto their plates. The three of them washed up quickly, and Paul sniffed.

“Trouble in paradise, Y/n?” He taunted, “Doesn’t smell like that horrendous cologne rubbed off on you today.”

Fed up with bullshit for the day, I slammed his plate in front of him and grabbed my own, marching back to the room Bella and I had taken over to eat by myself.

“You’re so full of shit, Paul,” Jacob hissed at him, but I slammed the door before I heard anything else.

Tears welled up in my eyes, but I refused to cry. In a house full of werewolves, they would all hear it, and I refused to give Paul the satisfaction.

After a minute, Bella came into the room and sat beside me on the floor. She ate her food without speaking, sitting shoulder-to-shoulder with me as tears streamed silently down my face.

“Do you want to go back to Charlie’s?” She asked, and I took a deep breath.

“No,” I said, “It’s fine.”

She was quiet for a moment more, “You and I will skip school tomorrow, go on a hike. Get some fresh air.”

I nodded, finishing my food.

---

The next day, Bella and I went out for a hike early. We left at six in the morning, driving to the La Push trails.

We went together for a while, eating lunch at a scenic outlook. She went on towards the cliffs at the beach, but I stayed behind.

I sat hugging my knees as I thought.

Paul was an asshole. I wanted to hit him. Max was a dick. It was only partially justified.

Sam made me want to bash my head in. He needs to stop trying to shove Paul and I into making up. I’m about to tell Emily that if he keeps doing it, I’m staying at Charlie’s exclusively.

No, that would probably only make him force Paul to babysit my house.

I don’t know how long I sat there, but I eventually got back up and started to make my way back to Bella. A knot formed in my chest, and I hurried back. Before I knew it, I was running towards her, breaking the tree line and seeing her standing on the cliff before me, looking at the waves.

I was about to call out to her when she jumped, letting herself fall towards the waves. A scream ripped from my throat as I shoved my backpack and jacket off, running out of my shoes as I dove after her.

I watched her hit the water as I began to plummet, and I prayed that I could catch her and that she wasn’t trying to kill herself by drowning or blunt-force trauma from the surface of the water.

When I hit the water, the temperature made me gasp. I choked for a moment before diving to try and find my sister. I held my breath as long as I could before I had to resurface, diving back under as soon as air entered my lungs.

I kicked against the current and my hand snagged on something. I looked over and saw Bella, her eyes closed as she laid motionless in the water. I grabbed her under the arms and hauled her back to the surface, swimming as fast as I could towards the shore.

It was the adrenaline, I was sure, that let me get to the sand. If I wasn’t too worried about my sister dying, I probably would have drowned myself.

I dragged her onto the sandy beach, watching as Jacob came sprinting over. I was shaking, her hand clutched in mine, as I watched him get her to breathe again.

Fat tears rolled down my cheeks as I sobbed, cold and distressed. Jacob picked Bella up and hands pulled me towards a chest. With the adrenaline fading, and the cold getting to me, I was too tired to see who had picked me up and just let it happen.

---

I woke back up before Bella did. My eyes opened, and I saw her face in front of mine. Her eyes were closed, but she was breathing.

I exhaled, relief flooding my system.

“You’re awake,” Emily said, her beautiful face coming into my line of sight.

“Yeah,” I croaked, sitting up.

She looked like she had been crying.

“What happened?” I asked, knowing she wouldn’t have wasted tears on Bella and I when we had survived.

She looked at me for a moment before speaking quietly, “Harry Clearwater had a heart attack. They’re arranging his funeral now.”

I lurched forward to hug her tightly, “Emily, I’m so sorry, oh my god.”

She sniffed, “Everyone’s over there to comfort Sue and their kids. Your dad, too.”

The two of us sat there for a long while before we both laid down in the bed. Emily fell asleep quickly, exhausted from crying. I just stared at the ceiling.

---

Jacob took us back to Charlie’s house when he heard we were awake. We got there, however, and he froze.

“There’s a vampire in there—” he started, but Bella shoved past him. I followed, assuming that it was Edward.

I grabbed a cast iron pan from the stove and yelled, “Edward, you sickly dickhead! Come here so I can beat your ass!”

I stormed into the living room and swung on instinct when I saw the shape of someone who wasn’t my sister or Jacob. The small woman dodged it easily, looking at me grimly.

She opened her mouth, but spotted Bella and launched herself at her for a hug.

“Wait! Wait!” Bella yelled at Jacob and I, “It’s Alice! This is Alice!”

I watched her warily, the pan still clutched tight in my fists. My sister cried as she hugged the woman, Alice.

“Oh, Bella, how are you alive?” She asked, “I saw you jump, I saw your sister jump after you, but—”

She took a breath and continued, “I saw you go into the water and I waited and waited for you to come up, but you didn't. What happened? And how could you do that to Charlie? Did you stop to think what this would do to him? And my brother? Do you have any idea what Edward–” She cut herself off, looking to me.

“Why did she jump, Y/n?” She asked, and she said my name with such familiarity that it was unnerving.

“For fun, she said.” I informed her, “She wasn’t trying to kill herself.”

“Why did I not see you pull her out, then?” Alice pondered, “I saw you coming to Forks, I saw you hiking, I saw you jump after her, but I couldn’t see anything after you got within a yard of the beach.”

“Jacob and Paul pulled us out of the water from there. Jake got Bella breathing again, and they took us to the reservation.” I told her, watching as her face went slack with understanding.

She pinned Jacob with a stare, “I thought she drowned,” She said slowly, “Because I can’t see past you and your pack of mutts—”

“Watch it, Alice,” I warned, “Him and his pack of wolves are the reason Bella and I are still alive, and Jacob’s the reason Bella’s even a functioning person today.”

She sniffed, conceding, “I suppose.”

Bella and Alice caught up with each other in her room. Jacob and I sat with Charlie at the dining room table.

He told us stories of Harry Clearwater, seeming dazed that he was dead. He kept flipping between past and present tense when talking about him.

Charlie went off to bed a while after.

The phone rang, and Jacob picked it up. Carlisle was calling, asking for Charlie.

“Now’s not a good time,” Jacob said, “Charlie just got back from arranging a funeral—”

The line went dead.

Not a second later, Bella and Alice flew down the stairs and lunged for the phone, only to hear the dial tone.

“What did you do?” Bella demanded, and I whipped my head to look at her critically.

“Jacob didn’t do shit, Carlisle asked for Charlie and Jake told him that he had come back from arranging a funeral—”

“That wasn’t Carlisle,” Alice said quietly, staring into the distance, “Edward thinks Bella’s dead. He’s going to the Volturi to—”

“Hold on, the who?” I demanded, but was ignored by both my sister and her guest. I looked to Jacob, and he mouthed, “Vampire Police?”

“I have to go save him—!” Bella said, trying to walk past me.

“Wait a damn minute, Bella,” I said, stopping her, “Save who? That sickly piece of shit who left you when things got hard?”

“Edward’s going to get himself killed!” She shrieked, and I scoffed.

“He nearly killed you, and you’re rushing to his rescue because he’s jumping to conclusions instead of asking for confirmation?” I demanded, and Bella pursed her lips.

“You would do it for any of us,” she told me, “No matter how angry you were or what we did, you would still go save any of us if we were trying to kill ourselves. Just like you already did for me today.”

I was silent for a long moment.

“I’ll tell Charlie where you went,” I said finally, “But I won’t stop you. You’re eighteen now, anyway.”

She smiled, hugging me tightly before rushing off towards Alice’s car. Jacob chased after her, and I went upstairs to shower.

---

(Edited 1/4/25)

Am I team Edward? Am I team Jacob? The answer is, for cannon, neither. I was originally soooo team Edward when I watched/read the first movie/book, but during New Moon I loved the werewolves (still do obvi) and I did love Jacob so much until Meyer completely nerfed his and Quil’s characters by making them imprint on CHILDREN

Fanfiction’s free game though, I’ll eat it up no matter who it’s about.

Anyway, hope yall enjoyed!! Lmk what you guys think and if yall want to see anything specific/have a request for anything, let me know!! I’m open to writing for whoever and about almost anything ☺️

Bye bye for now (I’ll post again tmr)

[koisuko]

Hello, I was wondering if you would write a romantic Smoke x female reader, about Smoke trains the reader self defense but they start to flirt and become handy with each other?

Yesss, more Tomas lovers!

Tw: handsy behavior, flirtation, may contain lewd suggestions, fem reader, no use of y/n

You are far from incapable of taking care of yourself, and Tomas knew that. But having a boyfriend who was both a ninja, and had ninja enemies, he was worried for your safety. Often times, his mind would run wild with ‘what if’ questions. ‘What if I’m not there to save her’ ‘what if something happens to her’ ‘what if she gets taken, or worse’ and many more. So, to set his mind at ease, you agreed to train with him and learn some basic self defense. It couldn’t hurt to learn something new, and maybe you’ll be able to fight along side him…someday.

Every morning, you two would wake up early to have the training grounds to yourselves. Tomas wanted to make sure that you felt comfortable, and wouldn’t be shy or embarrassed if you made a mistake in front of others. Plus, you two would have alone time to be yourselves without any on lookers giving awkward side-eyes.

Today, training was done a little bit earlier than usual. The moon hung high over the sky, bathing the courtyard in an almost ethereal glow. The calls of night life offered a backdrop to the sounds of grunts and exerted breaths. “Good, again.” Tomas repeated, repositioning himself opposite of you with a twirl of his Karambit. Blankets of heavy smoke swirled around his figure, moving to settle beside him on either side. You nod, careful to perfect your defensive stance. The role was simple, Tomas wouldn’t go easy on you, as promised, and you would work on your defense as if against a real enemy. “Remember,” he spoke, “don’t be afraid to hit me, okay?” You hesitated at first, but nod reluctantly. With the confirmation out of the way, he charged at you, running low with his karambit held at his side. You tried your best to keep your confidence, but seeing him run at you was intimidating, causing your stance to falter and allowing him an opening to attack. Before long, your back collided harshly against the ground. The sheer velocity nearly knocking the wind out of you. Tomas kept you beneath him with his thighs firmly closed around you, forcefully keeping your arms at your side. His arms caged either side of your head, and the close proximity of his lips to yours was making you blush. "Do not hesitate, be sure of your actions or you create an opening for attack." His words bounced off the skin of your cheek. The best part of this whole situation, he seemed oblivious to the effect he was having on you.

He paused in his movements, giving you a questioning look. His head tilted to the side as his eyes trail along the contours of your face. He was confused, concerned even, at the red hue swallowing your cheeks and your parting lips gasping for air. “What’s wrong?” Tomas asked, his brows knitted together. The only response you could give, was a pathetic squeak, squirming beneath him while turning your face away to provide at least some space between the two of you. To your surprise, he grasped the base of your jaw, turning your gaze to meet his once again. “Do you need a break?” He was still blissfully unaware, the stupid look of concern still written on his features. “I-I’m fine, Tomas,” you replied. Tomas loosened the pressure of his thighs on your body, giving you the prime opportunity to use your weight and strength to reverse the roles. With a thud and a grunt, he was now beneath you, your face still flush with embarrassment. Tomas was surprised, is eyes shot wide from the sudden turn of events. “V-very good, you did well!” He blushed at the sudden power you had, his stutter causing you to giggle in response. “I think I like you better from this angle,” you smirked, placing a hand on his chest. You pushed yourself up, reaching out to help him. You could feel the slick sweat of his palms between your clasped hands. He was nervous, in a good way of course. Tomas unknowingly had a love struck smile on his face, hearts nearly visible in his pupils. He cleared his throat awkwardly, rubbing a hand on the back of his neck. Tomas took a deep breath to gather courage before approaching, gingerly placing a hand on your waist, “you did well today.” For a split second, he admired the shape of you, every bump and curve that created you. His eyes trailed back up to meet yours with a tender smile. “Let’s get some rest.”

[madametamma]

The Day Jon was born (A MAWS fanfic)

“I’m so sorry, but your son likely only has a few more hours to live.”

The news made Clark’s whole world lose sound, light, and color. He was frozen to the spot. His body reacting as if he didn’t move time wouldn’t go forward.

He and Lois were so thrilled over having a baby. Clark wasn’t sure he could due to his alien DNA, until one day in the middle of stopping a bank robbery he heard a noise he had never imagined before.

Two hearts beating inside Lois as she hid behind a turned over desk to cover herself from the armed robber’s gunfire. She furiously scribbled notes into a pad of paper for the story she’d write about this. The shock at the time got Superman shot over 58 times until the robbers themselves grew confused at his motionlessness.

He suddenly snapped out of his stupor, finished rounding the robbers up as quick as a flash and carried his perplexed wife out the door up to the privacy of the sky to give her body a proper X ray vision scan, confirming that she was indeed pregnant.

They were overjoyed at the time. So happy to bring a child into the world. They imagined teaching him or her catch, bringing them to Ma and Pa’s home for holidays. They wanted every part that parenthood had to offer together.

A few weeks later the fears started taking hold. Lois was on an emotional roller coaster. With some days feeling full of energy and eager to fight against her husbands insistence that she be less reckless with claims that no one could stop her from doing what she had to do as a reporter and other days where she cried in bed feeling certain she was going to be a horrible mother.

Through every breakdown Clark was there to assure her that everything would be fine although she wasn’t the only prone to anxiety and emotional episodes. He would also have more than his fair share of nightmares of something happening to the baby. A foe discovering of his family’s existence and taking them hostage? A strange Kryptonian sickness that he would have no idea how to cure? What if their child had powers like him? What if they had to live with the isolation and loneliness he grew up with as a boy. He would never wish that on anyone let alone his own kid.

Thankfully Lois and Clark never had a breakdown at the same time. They were each other’s rock. When one was in crisis mode, the other swooped in to let them know they believed everything would be alright.

That is until last night. 25 days before her due date, as Clark was brushing his teeth getting ready for bed, he heard the sound of a crash in the kitchen where Lois was. Near instantaneously he was at her side as she lay fallen on the floor breathing ragged, holding her baby bump.

“Something’s wrong.” She managed to hiss out through clenched teeth.

Clark flew her to the local hospital as fast as he was able, The doctors declared that if they had any chance at saving the baby, they’d need to perform surgery immediately.

As Lois was going under, quickly loosing consciousness, she gave Clark the most painful, terrified expression Clark had ever seen from her, it almost stopped his heart. It didn’t look right on the face of the bravest person he’d ever known, and it made him feel almost as small and helpless as she looked.

“C-Clark, y-you’ve gotta make sure our baby’s gonna be okay. You’ve gotta bring em to me, promise?”

“I promise.” The words came out before Clark even knew what he was promising. He would have given her anything in that moment.

She muttered a few words incoherently as her eye glazed over and succumbed to the anesthesia.

The rest was a blur for Clark. Never in his life had he felt so powerless and afraid. The only thing he clung to was the sound of the two heartbeats of his wife and baby until finally a doctor delivered him those awful words.

“I’m so sorry, but your son likely only has a few more hours to live.”

Clark somehow found himself sitting in the hospital room with his sleeping wife and tiny new born son. He was hunched over, head in his hands, not sure how long he’d been there or how he got there.

He finally managed to look over at his new born son, so small, pale and struggling to breath. Clark looked at him more closely with his super vision. There was something unstable about human, kryptonian DNA mixed together. The baby’s heart was weak and struggled with all its might to keep on beating. Turns out Clark was right all those years. He couldn’t have a healthy baby with a human.

He turned his gaze to Lois. How was he going to face her? The promise he made in the heat of a heartbroken moment shattered.

The light from the rising sun in the distance illuminated her face from the window. Usually Clark’s favorite sight in the world. The sunrise lighting up his wife’s beautiful, peaceful face as she slept so close by him but at this moment…

That’s when realization struck him. He looked back at his son. He had his kryptonian DNA. And Kryptonians heal when exposed to strong sunlight.

Without wasting another moment, Clark unhooked his child from the machines keeping him alive. If he was wrong about this, their boy would die but if he did nothing, he’d die anyway in a few more hours. He cradled his child in his two hands. He was small enough that he could fit nearly all of him in them.

“Lois, I’m going to try something drastic.” He muttered to his unconscious wife before flying off.

He held his baby firm against his chest and just went strait up above the clouds where he could be close to the sun. It was almost blindingly bright but Clark kept his eyes on the boy as he held him out enough that his skin could absorb as much light as possible.

And he waited…

And waited…

No immediate change. Were seconds or minutes going by? Clark couldn’t tell. His whole universe held still.

“Jonathan?” Clark mouthed out, saying the name he and Lois had agreed upon if they had a boy.

“Jonathan.” He said again a little louder this time.

“Do you know who I am? Do you recognize my voice?” So many nights Clark curled up next to Lois’s baby bump speaking to it about anything and everything, hoping that his child would know him by the sound of his voice once he was born.

“Cry Jonathan… Please cry.” He begged. Clark had been crying nearly this whole time and a new fresh set of fat tears rolled down his face.

“If you cry now, I’ll never feel bad about you crying for the rest of our lives. I will stay up all night, every night with you if you want to cry in your cradle, When you’re older I’ll sit with you if you cry over a nightmare, or if you cry about getting dumped or bullied at school. Just cry for me, Jon.”

No change.

“There’s so many great things in this world, Jon. You’re going to have an aunt Kara who will teach you stuff and an uncle Jimmy who will make you laugh and a grandpa and grandma who will make you feel loved and special, and you’re mom and dad will always be there for whatever you need, but you’ve got to live, okay?”

Still nothing.

Clark sniffled back more tears, his voice was choked up with emotion.

Suddenly, it was as though the whole world put back into its rightful place all at once it hit him. Jon let out a loud baby wail and wiggled slightly in his father’s hands. His skin was bright and rosy and Clark could hear a heartbeat strong and steady.

For a moment all Clark could do was stare at the child illuminated by the rising sun. Almost unable to process the miracle before him. When more tears fell and finally he could smile. He brought his son close and cooed,

“Daddy’s here… Thank you Jonathan.”

Lois was beginning to come around. She looked around and found her room empty. She couldn’t help but be worried that Clark wasn’t with her and neither was their baby, when suddenly a shadow cast over her. She looked to the window to find her husband smiling down at her eyes puffy from crying with their child in his arms.

Wanting to close the distance between them, without taking her eyes off her family, Lois moved to get out of bed to reach out for them only to almost immediately fall on unsteady legs.

Clark moved to catch her with one arm and move her back to bed. Once she was okay, he handed her their crying baby. “Lois, meet Jonathan. He’s beautiful.”

And now it was Lois’s turn to cry as she held her tiny son close to her chest, thankful that her family was okay. She didn’t need to ask. She could read it on Clark’s face. She held their baby and Clark held the both of them.

The doctors were astounded. They had never examined a healthier baby.

[prythiansfavoritefox]

For day 1 of @lucienweekofficial Gentleman

Lucien is tasked with bringing the Archeron family over safely to Feyre’s wedding- and warming them up to the Fae in the process.

It would’ve been a strange day by any other human’s standards, but the Archerons had had stranger. As it was, Nesta Archeron hardly blinked when the faerie lord showed up before their doors.

Lucien Vanserra stared at the woman who had to be Nesta from Feyre’s descriptions of her. He definitely saw the resemblance to Feyre, but Nesta’s features were stronger, sharper. She had siren eyes, her brows were thick and arched, and her full lips were pressed together as they appraised him. Her purple dress was surprisingly elegant, albeit dated: light fabric, a full high-waisted skirt, puffy elbow-length sleeves, and sparkly silver leaf embroidery throughout. It looked like a dress a lesser faerie might wear to sneak into an Autumn Court ball.

“What do you want,” Nesta asked flatly. Lucien flashed a practiced smile, sketching a bow. “Greetings, Lady Nesta. I am Lucien, courtier and emissary of the Spring Court. I come here on behalf of my High Lord, Tamlin Donnachaidh.”

Nesta’s eyes widened in recognition. “Feyre’s High Lord. What does he want with us?”

Lucien swallowed his laugh. “He wants nothing to do with you, but I’m afraid your sister insists.”

Nesta’s face remained unreadable. “And why is that?”

Lucien let his lips pull into a smirk. “She has invited you to her wedding, of course.”

                              ~~~~~~

After the Archerons had sat down in the carriage, Nesta turned to Lucien, who she had sat next to in order to keep an eye on. “What’s with the eyepatch?” she asked. Lucien flashed an arrogant smile that Nesta had quickly realized was his go-to. “Tamlin’s idea. Thought it would make me look less…threatening.”

“You can tell him it’s not working,” Nesta snapped. Her voice shook a little on the last word, and she clenched her fists in her lap. She was trying so hard to be brave for Elain, but she couldn’t deny her fear. Lucien could rip the three of them to shreds in seconds and not break a sweat. She squeezed her eyes shut and tried to take a deep breath.

“Hey,” Lucien said, surprisingly gentle this time. “I’m not going to hurt you. Feyre is my friend, and she cares about you.”

“Sure she does,” Nesta choked. Don’t cry don’t cry don’t cry. “It’s been months since we heard from her, not a note or fuck you or anything. And now we find out she’s getting married to a High Lord? Will she even be safe there, surrounded by so many enemies?”

Lucien bit his lip, seemingly debating something. “I should probably warn you about something.”

Nesta sniffed. “What?”

Lucien took a deep breath, bracing himself for their reactions. He knew it wouldn’t be good; these people had grown up fearing the Fae, and for good reason. It couldn’t be nice to find out their sister was one of them.

“Your sister…she died freeing us from our High Queen. The only way to save her was for every High Lord to give her a piece of themselves. So, when Feyre’s eyes opened once more, she was reborn as one of the High Fae.”

Elain gasped. Nesta went inhumanly still. Then she took a few deep breaths, as though trying to calm herself. “So she’s one of you now.”

“She’s still the same person, Nesta,” Lucien tried to explain. “Just…stronger.”

“She has become the very thing we fear. She is not the same.” Nesta began moving her thigh up and down. Lucien sighed, scrubbing a hand over his face. “We’re not all so bad, Lady Nesta. Many Fae fought tooth and nail to free you from slavery. Tamlin was too young to do so, but I can assure you that he and I would’ve fought for the humans had we been able to. And with me, Alis, Tamlin, and now your sister, I can assure you that no one will dare lay a finger on you or your family during your stay,” he murmured.

Elain tilted her head, peering at Lucien. “You are not much like Feyre’s High Lord.”

It was amusing to hear the way Feyre’s sisters spoke of Tamlin. Tamlin was one of the most powerful High Lords ever born, but to these ladies, he was just Feyre’s High Lord. 

“No, I am not,” Lucien confirmed. Elain smiled slightly. “He was…odd.”

“You can say it, Elain. He was violent and beastly,” Nesta muttered. Lucien snickered. “You’re talking about his little entrance? Tamlin never was good at communication. That’s why I’m here.” Lucien pulled a knife out of his belt and began twirling it in his hands. Nesta continued to stare at him, as though trying to figure out his weakness.

“Are you missing an eye?”

Lucien raised a brow at Nesta’s bold question. “Not exactly,” he replied.

“Take off the mask,” Nesta ordered.

Lucien grinned. He could sense the woman’s fear, but she was not backing down. How brave. Lucien could respect that.

“I’m afraid I only take commands from my High Lord, and he gave me strict instructions to keep it on,” he drawled.

Nesta did not back down, holding his stare. “He said that under the assumption that we would be scared if we saw what was underneath. But I think we’d trust you more if you showed your true face. Right, Elain?”

Elain bowed her head softly. “You shouldn’t have to hide yourself for our convenience,” she said softly. The diplomatic one, then.

“Alright,” Lucien said. “But don’t say I didn’t warn you.” Lucien slipped his fingers underneath the eye patch and pulled it off.

[klaus-littlestwolf]

I have a Story Stuck in my Head!

Hybrids Mafia Princess Series

I want to know if anyone thinks of something similar because this one has been running through my head for months. You know the story you tell in your head to fall asleep to? This has been mine for a while.

Mafia!Bucky Barnes and his girl have been together for years now and have a daughter, she has been the light of her fathers life since the day she was born, spoiled rotten.

As she got older though they grew apart, Bucky having no clue what to do with a teenage daughter, he still adores her of course, but she feels as if he has forgotten about her for years…

Cue Klaus Mikaelson!

Y/n meets Klaus at some party her father is forced to bring his wife and daughter to, schmoozing with all of the political idiots New York has to offer and Klaus (who has only recently broken his curse mind you) realizes that Y/n is his wolfs mate, one he has craved since the day he first killed and turned into a werewolf over 1000 years ago.

Klaus introduces himself, getting his girl a drink and flirting, barely noticing all of the looks he receives from the men around the room who all know better than to get that close to James Barnes daughter. They end up in a corner talking about anything and everything, both of them loving how honest they are able to be with each other for what feels like the first time ever, until of course one of her fathers men shows up. She quickly tells Steve to fuck off before pulling Klaus outside, insisting he leaves, giving him time to get away from her father and though Klaus doesn’t care about the man, he sees her fear and he does as she asks.

Later that night, after her mother scolded her all the way home for leaving her security (something that she’s sure was really her fathers issue but he had forced her mother to bring it up, making her feel like her father was avoiding her again) she hears a knock on her window and opens it to find her sexy Hybrid waiting for her to invite him in. They spend the whole night talking and Klaus tells her everything, knowing that his mate would be the one person that wouldn’t judge him or leave him. Y/n also told Klaus about her life, about who her father is and how she feels unloved by him and trapped in this house, and Klaus swears to save her, promises to give her a life away from her fathers business and cruelty (not that Klaus’ cruelty is any better but at least he won’t ever let her wonder whether he loves her or not, she will always know and that is a comfort to her in every way she needed).

One of Bucky’s men sees Klaus sneaking out her window before dawn and informs his boss, running a background check on the man and finding 5 different identities, this convinces Bucky that the man was sent by one of his enemies to hurt him by getting to his daughter. Bucky berates her for being so stupid to fall for this and though she knows the truth she can’t tell him about Klaus, she swore she would tell no one and she won’t break her promise. Bucky breaks Y/n’s heart, believing her so dumb and naive but she allows him to think this of her, already believing her father hates her anyway, which is why she does not hesitate to run away with Klaus later that night.

Bucky searches for her for months, his heart broken at the idea that his daughter thought she was unloved by him. He needed her to know that it wasn’t true and he was just an idiot who didn’t know how to care for a teenage girl. Eventually he finds a man who had been dealing with Klaus lately, clearly not knowing that he was a vampire and ending up injured beside Steve with the rest of his men all slaughtered.

It’s then that Y/n shows up, more beautiful than Bucky had ever seen her, screaming at the creature and demanding he explain why he believed he had the right to harm her family, shocking Bucky and Steve both at how terrified this man was of her. They quickly realized however that it wasn’t really Y/n that he was afraid of as Klaus shows up…

Honestly I have many different endings to that story at this point but it’s been rotting my brain for a while now so I thought ‘maybe someone else will like it too’ and here we are🤣

Mafia!Bucky’s Daughter is Klaus’ Mate Moodboard

Hybrids Mafia Princess Masterlist

[memelovescaps]

I'd give up forever to touch you

He stopped in the doorway, the sight of her tear-streaked face twisting something deep within him. He’d faced horrors across universes, but nothing had ever prepared him for this: seeing her so vulnerable, so broken.

Seeing her look so painfully young and scared, so achingly familiar.

Her eyes. He was sure he would never forget them, wet, wide and scared. Something inside of him broke at the sight, and he took a ragged breath, his trembling hands twitching to hold her.

None of the monsters, not the loss he’d faced, not the fear, the pain... nothing cut as deep as seeing those tears on her face, a reminder of all she had lost at such a tender age.

Her wide, tear-bright eyes pulled at memories he rarely allowed himself to touch. Her small frame, curled and trembling, reminded him of a girl he hadn’t been able to save.

Donna.

He hadn’t been able to save her. She was his first failure, and he’d carried that guilt, that ache, like a wound that refused to close.

And now here was America, this brave, remarkable girl who needed him. But he couldn’t keep himself from trembling, afraid that history might repeat itself—that, despite everything, he could lose her, too. That she would become another ghost haunting his failures.

Yet, he couldn’t keep away from her. Even knowing how much it could hurt, her presence soothed an ache so deep, so woven in him, he hadn’t realised how much it had hurt. Until her.

“Ste—Stephen...” she voiced, her voice shaken, broken.

His mind was taken from that horrible night by the lake, his eyes, almost as wild as desperate as hers, focused on her.

His feet took him to her bed, opening his arms as she collided with him, tears rolling down her cheeks as a choked sob emerged from her throat.

He pulled her in, letting her curl up against him and hide against his chest, uncontrollable sobs wracking her. She seemed so small, so much smaller than the fierce girl he knew. It broke him, how much she’d endured, and he knew he couldn’t let her carry that pain alone.

“Shhh it’s alright Scout... I’m here,” his hand gently cradled her head as she buried her face deeper into his chest.

He felt her relax against him, her breath shuddering against his collar, and he pulled her closer, fighting the fear that gnawed at him. He would do whatever it took—he would be everything she needed, even if he had to guard every moment of her life. He couldn’t afford to fail again. He’d lost Donna once. But this time… with America… he wouldn’t make the same mistake.

The cloak moved from his shoulders, wrapping itself gently around them both, cocooning her against his chest. He let his arms settle around her, a fierce promise settling in his heart, grounding him in that quiet certainty.

Also available on Wattpad and Fanfiction.

[mysteriawrites]

Matchup for @little-soldi3rs

Sorry this is late also the format for the ask was weird so i had to @ you instead of responding to the ask directly. Anyway without further ado.

🥁🥁🥁🥁🥁🥁🥁🥁🥁🥁🥁🥁🥁🥁🥁🥁🥁

JIAOQIU!!!

I think you and Jiaoqiu would be a very warm couple. You both have a love of people and are incredibly kind. You also have a shared love of cooking and use it as a medium to convey your hearts.

You were a researcher who was doing a thesis on the land of a planet the Yao Qing troops were stationed at.

While you were taking some samples of the geographical formations, you were attacked by an abomination of abundance. You were within an inch of your life before you were saved.

You didn’t get a good look at who it was but they had long ears and a soft voice. “Don’t worry I’ll take care of you,” you heard before everything faded to black.

You woke up in a tent covered in bandages and with the smell of something delicious. A foxian man approaches your bedside with a bowl of soup.

He helps you sit up and encourages you to eat. He introduces himself as Jiaoqiu, the military’s healer. He doesn’t know what but something inside him to take care of you personally.

Since the day they found you to the day you made a full recovery he worked tirelessly day and night heal you. During that time you got to properly know each other and became quite close.

He was happy when you were better, but a little disappointed that it ment you wouldn’t get to spend as much time together anymore. He enjoyed your company and maybe had a bit of a crush on you cough cough.

Eventually he is able to work up to courage to ask you out months later to dinner at his place and he admits his feelings for you.

You guys are a very protective couple if that makes sense. You fuss and preen over each other like monkeys making sure the other is properly taking care of themselves.

Always making sure you’re eating enough and that the food is nutritious and you’re getting enough of the right vitamins and minerals is his passion.

You guys will cook together almost every night unless one or both of you had a long day then you’ll order out even if he insists on cooking anyway. He may be a bit pouty, but just give him a bit of a kiss and it’ll be all good.

You and him play chess together a lot. You both currently have an equal number of wins and have yet to break the tie to this day.

When you cuddle he lets you pet and play with his tail while he plays with your hair and you nerdy ramble to him. He finds it incredibly comforting. His tail is incredibly soft sometimes you fall asleep cuddling it and he dare not move until you wake up.

Because he’s seen so many of his friends die due to not only being a long lived species, but also working on the battle field, he is highly protective of you. He’s afraid you’ll become one of the many faces that fails to return to him. You have to reassure him that you won’t just disappear.

Sometimes he has PTSD episodes and you’re the only one who can calm him down. Whether it’s with words or just holding him, he is very grateful to you.

Sometimes you get a bit insecure about all the time he spends with general Feixiao. You know it’s just his job, but you can’t help it. Who wouldn’t fall for her she’s beautiful, smart, and strong.

He waves those insecurities away by peppering your face with kisses and says you’re 1000 everything she is in his eyes and he would never want anyone else.

And you feel the same.

[softrozene]

Arthur Turns into a Parent

Anon asked: Howdy:)! I'm loving your blog so far, as new as it is. I was wondering if you could write HC's on a new addition to camp who's a kid--maybe around 11 or 12 and she always follows around Arthur cos he saved her or something, and all the gang members tease him about it, but she evntially grows on him and sticks with him to the very end :'( Idk, hopefully something fluffy and father daughter sort of thing:) Only if you're okay with it!! 

rdr2 masterlist

This is my type of thing. We love a wholesome father figure Arthur in this house! Thanks for the request Lovely!

Originally published on January 28, 2020

(Father-Daughter relationship) Arthur Morgan x Kid!reader

Warnings: Fluff, spoilers?

Words: ~700

-

Arthur would be so angry that you chose him, out of the damn people here at camp, to follow around

He would be very annoyed, all huffy puffy, but wouldn’t say a dang word about it

The annoyance is obvious especially if Hosea or Dutch tease him about it, but he keeps his lips tight with them

If it’s another member making fun of him he will tell them to “Shut up”

Despite his behavior, he never ever tells you to go away

Give it a few days and he’ll cave in

He’ll turn into the mama bear he’s meant to be eventually

Since you are technically glued to him, he has to promise to come back a few times in order for you to stay with Abigail or someone else, while he goes on a mission

Eventually, he’ll embrace the father role that you had forced upon him (thanks to Hosea and Dutch probably)

He’ll teach you everything he knows

If you’re his daughter now he wants you to be able to protect yourself

He doesn’t want you to end up like his baby mama Eliza and his son Isaac

Eventually, you’ll be like Jack and call everyone Uncle or Auntie

The second you call Arthur Daddy or Papa his heart will literally melt

He’ll finally see this as the second chance he doesn’t deserve but will embrace it

Arthur probably has a sixth sense so if Micah comes near you, you bet Arthur will be there making sure that Micah will not interact with you

He ain’t afraid to shoot him if he tries to talk to you

If you ever see Mary and become mean or jealous of her, Arthur will think it’s the cutest thing in the world

Mary will be slightly upset wishing that she was your mother after seeing how loving Arthur is towards you

Get out of here mary

When he realizes he has TB you are the only one he will tell because he doesn’t want you to be devastated when it’s too late

He might try to distance himself but if it hurts you more he would stop immediately

You would be entrusted to John and Abigail and when the time comes you don’t put up a fight- You don’t want to break his heart more and he definitely doesn’t want to see you witness his death

You’ll stay as long as you can but he’ll make you leave with Abigail when she leaves with Sadie

Jack calls you his big sister

John may have Arthur’s stuff but when the time comes you’ll get the notebook

You’ll probably join John, Charles, and Sadie to get revenge for Arthur (since 8 years pass reader would be 19/20) so Abigail can’t control you lmao

Small Bonus Scenario:

“Hey Kid, wake up,” Arthur’s voice is surprisingly gentle as he shakes you gently.

Your eyes open real wide and you are breathing with panic. Upon seeing Arthur’s face you feel better immediately. You hug him.

“I know, Kid. It was just a dream. You’re safe now. See? You’re home with us,” Arthur says murmuring these lines of comfort for you.

He holds you gently for a bit before he pulls away. “You good now?”

You shake your head and he smiles, “See. Nothing is ever gonna hurt you again. Not that you have me and all of us to protect you. Uncle Charles and Javier wish to train you tomorrow if you’d like.”

Seeing your eyes light up like that makes him chuckle. Despite not being his real flesh and blood, you sure are his daughter with that behavior and enthusiasm for wanting to learn this type of thing.

“Sadie wants to take ya shopping too. Said you’d been bothering her for pants,” Arthur says softly.

You nod your head eagerly and he laughs. “Fine. Fine. Probably suit you better than those dresses. She’s gonna be proud that you’re taking her new style. Anyway- Go back to sleep. I’m here to protect ya now.”

“Will you stay until I fall asleep?” You ask softly immediately clutching his hand.

He huffs just slightly before saying, “Sure, Kid.”

[hughiecampbelle]

Good Mourning (Roman Roy Onesoht))

((SUCCESSION SPOILERS))

Character/s: Roman, Kendall, Shiv, Connor, Logan, Willa

Word Count: 1,621

Inspired By: I Bet On Losing Dogs by Mitski

Tag: @locke-writes

A/N: Last nights episode was such a hard watch, it brought back deeply painful memories and the only way I know how to cope is to write. Omg Roman the entire episode. Omg that fucking recording Frank or whoever brought up, laughing at it. I know it's only fictional, but still. Omg the ending with Kendall and the running away. Omg this episode, I will never recover. I wanna go back to when he was telling Matsson to fuck off. I know I can make this better so I will lol. Feedback is always appreciated 💜💜💜

You’ve talked about death, about the forever-ness of it. You’ve talked about what you want arranged once you’re gone. He was always hesitant, afraid, as if speaking about it would make it happen sooner, faster. As if Death herself were listening and waiting to strike for the right moment when he let down his guard and forgot all about her. As if Death were like the people in his life: cruel. Parts of you have been scared of her. She takes and she never gives back. She leaves a hole in your chest where something should be. She’s made you scream and cry in the past, leaving this gut-wrenching emptiness inside of you. Parts of you have admired her. When she loves someone, she loves deeply, effortlessly, showing affection to those who have never deserved it in their lifetime. She takes all, never discriminating. She takes fully, everything that they are and everything that they become. Death is not something you wish to be scared of for the rest of your life. People try to outrun her by denying their age, their time well spent, but you? You know you will welcome every gray, every wrinkly, every line and deep groove. It is a privilege to be able to see yourself live. It is a privilege to get old. You hope you can do so by his side, hand in wrinkled hand. 

Talking about it and coming face to face with it are two very different things, of course. You cannot take your eyes off it, the casket, heaving all the attention in the room. Inside is Logan Roy, the most powerful man you have ever met. The angriest man you have ever met. Gone. you knew there would be a crash. All his manic energy getting ready this morning, feeling on top of the world, pink cards in hand. You’d straightened his collar, smoothing his jacket, fearing the worst. You learned a long time ago that the Roy family burned as bright as the sun, hot and glowing, but they burned as bright as the sun, until there was nothing left of them. This morning he was the sun. He was confident, even joyous, but he was not feeling. He was not prepared for the reality of it all to smack him across the face as Logan used to do. There was nothing you could do to protect him from this, from them. This was not the funeral of a devoted, loving father, but of a monster. All his minions came to watch, to see if it was real. Was their leader really gone? It was a spectacle, another place of meeting. You were behind Kendall when Hugo started talking to him about Gojo. you shouldn’t have been as surprised as you were, though you would have thought they would have had a little more class. The whole way up the steps and through the church your hand remained in his, squeezing it ever so lightly when his rose colored glasses began to slip. You don’t know if he even notices, busy directing friends and business partners and even his cousin, who is not at all disturbed by his own behavior. Mencken gives you a hug that makes your skin crawl, but you do not object. This day is not about you, about any of you, rather it is about them and their grief.

You watch the pink cards shake in his palm. It's too late to stop him, to drag him back with you, to shield him from Death and her icy grip. What you wouldn’t give to go back, turn back the clocks, save him from himself. Ewan is finally finished, so he stands, shuffling towards the podium. You have given up on God a long time ago. You and Him, you never got along. But you pray to him in this moment, you pray that your love will get through this in one piece, that for once He will be kind to him. You pray and you hold your breath as you do, watching his hands begin to shake. His voice catches in his throat, tears welling up in his eyes. Fuck, you begin to think. Not today, please not today, not now, not him. Anyone else but him. Kendall, Shiv, Connor, they stand. You want to run to him, to hold him, but Willa grabs your hand. She can see what you’re thinking. She can see how dangerous it would look. What would they say if you came running to his rescue? He would be ruined. You can hear him, his head bowed: I can’t, I can’t do this. He is crying now, panting, motioning at the coffin. Willas grip tightens. You want to scream. Tears begin to fall down your face. Not for that bastard, the man who hurt him so many times he began to think that’s what love is. No, for Roman. For all the versions of him before you. The scared little boy attending his fathers funeral. For the wounded puppy that just wants him back. For the abused man that you love, that you cherish, the grief he’s been putting off finally settling in. He finds his way back to you, to the pew, shaking. Finally, she lets go, your arms finding their way around him, his head falling on your shoulder. You take one look back behind you, towards Logan's minions, and they are smiling. You shush him, his cries, wiping his cheek with your hand. It’s okay Rome, it’s okay, you say over and over again. To him, to yourself. It’s okay, no one will hurt you again, though you know you cannot make that kind of grand promise. You know it’s already too late. 

Neither of you stay long. It is Kendall who thanks everyone for coming, shaking hands, giving hugs, until he too is tired of the charade. All the way there he sniffles beside you, his eyes red, his cheeks flushed. You want to stop the car, stop everything, give him all the time and room to cry as he needs, but you know better. This world is not made to accommodate. This life is not one you are free to express even at the loss of a parent. They expect you to be normal, not to inconvenience them with your grief, not to show it. You hold him, keeping him close, feeling his racing heartbeat. You couldn’t have protected him from this. There was no way. Not from the funeral, not from the “burial” , not from Death herself. How you wished you could wrap him up in a cocoon and save him from all the heartache. Instead the car stops in front of the mausoleum. It is giant and lacking life. Sterile. Monstrous. Roman does not go in like his siblings, instead lingering on the outside. You and Willa stand off to the side, understanding your place in all this. No one notices this, but you. The way he stands, hands in his pockets, hunched, as if he wants to curl into a ball. As if he wants to disappear. When they bring the coffin up, his leg begins to shake, then his whole body. Finally he stands, talking to himself, not waiting for it to be over, racing to the car. You know better than to follow. He needs his alone time, he needs the tinted windows, he needs to do what he needs to get through this. You hope against hope that he isn’t spiraling, heading towards self-destruction. He never learned that it wasn’t his fault. Everything, everything was because he messed up, because he did or said something, because he was a fuck up. Logan taught him this and you, very slowly, very patiently, were trying to get him to unlearn it. All of it. 

The reception is packed. Too many people, too many bodies, they put an ocean between you and him. Roman struggles to meet your eyes. He’s back to himself, kind of, recovered in the eyes of the public. Only you can see him struggling, only you can see the mask slipping. He leaves you to get a drink, mingle, following his brother obediently. You want to remind him that grief is an all encompassing thing. It is unpredictable and powerful and it’s okay. But he won’t listen, shaking off any comforts. He wants to be uncomfortable, he wants to be in pain, it's the only thing he knows. The only thing he can love at this moment. You shouldn’t be hurt by it, but you are. He thinks he should be more like Logan, but you believe the opposite. You love him as he is, not for who he should become. You watch him carefully, understanding he does not want you near, unable to let him go. You talk to no one, you can’t even stand to look at them. The way they smiled, mocking him in his time of grief, as if the loss of father from son is to be taken lightly. You only take your eyes off him for a moment, but he is gone. You go to Kendall, panicked, but all he can say is he left. You’re running after him, calling his name, but he is too quick. Beyond the barriers he jumps into the crowd. Someone punches him, over and over, and you cannot help but scream. He keeps moving though, keeps instigating fights. You try to call him, but he does not listen. That same, scared little boy is running towards what he’s always known: suffering. 

You’re not sure what to do, how to help. You’re not sure you can help. He's made his decision. It has always been too late.

[theartofwriting3]

I Remember Everything

Tommy Shelby x Reader

Summary: Y/n ends up at the Garrison after a very hard few months and runs into an old friend *wink wonk*

Warnings: Swearing, smoking, drinking, mentions of child loss, Tommy being Tommy, Y/n being…well Y/n, brief mention of smut (nothing actually happens though), Country music

A/n: I said I would post this like…a week ago but I forgot I had some stuff going on and shit. And then I forgot this existed. Please excuse how shitty and kind of short it is, I kind of suck.

It wasn’t long before the pub started clearing out, Y/n halfway drowned in whiskey and her memories. She didn’t even realize who was pouring her drinks anymore, or that it wasn’t the original bartender that was pouring shot after shot of scotch in her whiskey glass for the last hour.

“Think you’ve had enough, eh?” The bartender said, reaching to grab her glass.

“I’ve had enough when I throw my money up here and walk out of this pub.” she looked up at him and immediately, her entire demeanor changed. “Fuck are you doing, eh? Bartending? What happened to the whole…”

“So you’re not drunk enough to not notice me…”

“Sadly, no.” Y/n shrugged, taking another sip of her drink. “Haven’t seen you since you left for the war.” Five years. He left for the war five long, miserable years ago. She never truly got over it, being left alone like that with the small chance of him coming back.

“Haven’t seen you since you left with the kid…didn’t expect to see you here alone anytime soon.” Thomas poured himself a glass, then poured her another.

“Neither did I…” She downed it without question as he lit a cigarette. He offered her a smoke, and she obliged, taking the first puff from it and blowing it out through her nose.

Again, another truth she didn’t want to admit. She never planned on coming back here. Having not heard from Thomas in so long, she thought he was dead. She resented this place, afraid of the memories it might have brought back for her. Afraid that she wouldn’t be able to let them go.

“You never answered my question? What happened with the whole business thing, running around here like a fucking gangster and all that?”

“Still do it, but I have to keep a few side gigs to seem less suspicious, eh?” He wasn’t wrong. He was clever, intelligent enough to actually try, add succeed covering up his tracks…most of the time, at least.

“So why are you here?” She didn’t want to answer that question, for she had been avoiding it since everything happened. “Somebody watching Willy?”

That was his nickname for William, Y/n’s son. Just the thought of his nickname brought back the memories of when Tommy would help her with him. How he would teach him things, take him places, all of that, just to give Y/n a little break. There were a few times William asked her if Tommy was his father. She told him no, because he wasn’t, but he would still slip and call him “dad” a few times.

She didn’t want to tell Tommy about what had happened, knowing it would probably hurt him too. Not as much as it had hurt her though.

“Y/n? Where’s Willy?”

She gave in.

“Dead, Thomas. He’s dead.” Her words were soft spoken, but in a mournful way. It hasn’t been two months since she woke up to her ill son cold in her arms, his heart stopped. She just wanted the memories of it to be gone already. Her reply made the man freeze, putting down his glass and looking at her, his eyes laced with worry.

“Why didn’t you come here sooner?”

“Thomas, no amount of fuckin money would have saved him, alright? No trip to this filth hole would have made him any better. What would be the fuckin point?”

“I could have helped-”

“He wasn’t your fucking son!”

“Yeah well I fucking felt like he was!” His sudden change in tone made her jump slightly, wishing she hadn’t yelled at him over the whole thing.

William was, however, like a son to Tommy. On multiple occasions, the boy would ask his mother “Can he be my father?” and she would never answer. She didn’t know what to say, her son wanting her good friend to be his dad, and the man already treating him like a son. She made sure to scold the boy when he would ask Tommy, only to have him laugh it off.

“Thomas…” she murmurs, and he reaches out and brushes his knuckles against hers.

“Don’t try saying sorry…because it’s fine.” At this point, they dropped the whole conversation about William, preventing further argument.

By the time she had finished another drink, he had caught up to her, just each other's presence bringing back the memories before the war. They weren’t bad, but they were something to drink over so you would forget about them. Forget about the whole reason the two weren’t being comfortable with each other like you used to.weren’t all happy and comfortable with each other like they used to be.

That wasn’t, however, the only good memory they tried to drown out, the two of them. Between raising her son together, there were things no amount of whiskey, scotch or Irish, could drown from the back of their memories.

The mix of their warm breaths and pants, the rustling of bed sheets in the dead of night. None of it was all that bad, but she had tried everything to forget the brush of his rough hands on her bare skin. He’d drank everything he could find for the longest time to try and forget the taste of her lips and the soft sound of his name when it slipped past them.

The silence between them was loud and irritating. One had hoped the other would speak, but nothing was said. That is, until Thomas spoke up.

“You know, I still remember it all.”

“All of what?” She pulled her hand away.

“That night before I left for the war…five years ago.” He trailed off, putting out the cigarette from earlier and lighting another. She sighed and pushed her glass away, running her hand through her hair.

“I try not to remember it…” She mumbled.

“Why is that?” A stupid question, really. A stupid, yet frequent question. She answered anyways.

“Never thought I would see you again…” It was part of the truth; with the way the war had gone, she never thought he would come out sane, let alone come back from the war at all. She never expected to see him ever again. The rest of the reason was that she didn’t think he would want her after the war. Hell, she didn’t think he wanted her at all, even as they lay together in his bed all those years ago.

Thomas had noticed she wasn’t saying the entire truth to the reason, and he sighed. “I thought of you…every single day I was out there. There wasn’t a single moment you didn’t cross my mind.”

Y/n felt her heart swell, a bit of hope in her eyes as he spoke. She felt her mind was at ease now, more at ease than the alcohol had made it.

“Every damn day I spent in that hell hole…you got me out of it.” He leaned against the bar, trying to get her to meet his gaze.

She drank some more, smiling softly- something she hadn’t done in a long time.

“There’s that smile…” Tommy murmured, the corners of his mouth turning up into a small smile as well.

“What?”

“You only smile like that when you’re drinking.”

“Oh, so you remember the night before you left, and how I smile when I’m the slightest bit drunk?” She teases, her smile turning to a smirk. He chuckles and shakes his head.

“I remember everything. Do you not?”

“I wish I didn’t, but I do. I remember it all.” Tommy passed her the cigarette, watching closely as she took a long drag from it. She leaned her head back and blew the smoke out through her nose. She passed it back to him and he took a smoke before stubbing it out.

At this point, they were multiple drinks in, reliving the stories of their past. Thomas just kept pouring and pouring, and they kept drinking and drinking. Until finally, the the bottle was empty, not a drop left. Tommy had offered to open another bottle, but she declined. She had got off the stool shakily, dizzy from the amount of alcohol she had. She then started to dig through her purse.

“Ah, keep the money. Don’t want you going broke already.” Tommy stopped her.

“It would be stupid of me not to pay you for something.”

Tommy just shook his head and came out from behind the bar. He lifted her chin with his finger and kissed her forehead gently. “You’ve payed me enough.”

With that, they both left the pub, Y/n stumbling with every step. They went their separate ways, once again. Y/n felt a weight on her chest, getting heavier with every step she took away from him. The same weight she ended up there to drink away. Her mind was racing with thoughts of if they’d ever see each other again, if they’d truly lost each other. She wanted to turn back and run to him. She wanted to. But she didn’t. She kept walking, and walking. The weight never left, nor did she think it would ever leave.

It never did

[sugar-coated-prat-dragon]

Title: Gaius’s choices and mentality

Episode: "A Remedy to Cure All Ills" questions #3

Questions by @tansyuduri

Tagging: @miyriu

Books used for reference: A Fighting Chance, Potion and Poisons, Valiant and Merlin Complete Guide

Question: Gaius was willing to give up Uther to protect Merlin. And is later revealed to have saved Alice.

So part of me wonders how close of friends the sorcerers could have been?

My answer: Gaius sides with Uther for a long time, despite knowing that he has killed innocent people and only decides to start ‘rocking the boat’, once he takes Merlin under his wing.

In fact, up until Gaius is forced to chose between Uther and Merlin for the first time during Edwin’s appearance, does he realize that he would choose…Merlin.

Before that point, Gaius would have pleaded for mercy on Merlin’s behalf, but he likely wouldn’t have risked his own life or attempted a rescue.

So Merlin’s presence changed him and caused him to risk Uther’s displeasure, but it took a little while for him to realize how much he’d changed.

Book description: Because he failed to speak out when Uther executed many of Gaius one-time friends and colleagues - the physician was branded a traitor by the surviving members of the magic community.

Gaius has found it easier to go along with Uther's wishes than make a stand; it is only as he gets to know Merlin that he allows himself to rock the boat' and risk the king's displeasure.

- For many years he has been a loyal servant to Uther, often serving his king rather than his conscience. But when his old friend Hunith appealed to him to look after her only son, Merlin, his life took a different path. Gaius soon found himself having to make very difficult choices.

WHAT WOULD GAIUS DO IF UTHER FOUND OUT ABOUT MERLIN?

Early on in their acquaintance, Merlin asks Gaius what he would do if Uther discovered the truth and Gaius avoids answering.

Back then, although Gaius felt a responsibility for Merlin, he might not have risked his own neck for the boy. He might have pleaded for mercy, but it's less likely that he would have courted certain death by admitting to concealing a criminal or attempting a rescue.

However, being with Merlin has changed Gaius. It is not just his growing love for the boy that makes him stand up to Uther, but a realization that he cannot always remain on the sidelines - 'turning a blind eye'.

Question: Did Gaius actually agree with Uther on a level?

Was Gaius actually afraid of magic and its capacity to corrupt? Is that why he keeps Morgana’s magic from her.

My answer: Gaius kept Morgana’s magic hidden from her because he was afraid of what Uther would do if he found out. He was trying to protect her.

- Gaius was indeed afraid of magic (even his own) and had a hard time casting the spell to save his charge from the Morteaus flower, due to that fear of stepping over the line and not being able to go back afterwards.

- Gaius originally served his king, rather than his conscience. Which means that he knew what he was doing was wrong, but he stood by and let it happen regardless, because of his loyalty to his king.

Even as Gaius thought back on how Uther’s own choices had caused people to attack in order to get payback, he still remained loyal… despite everything.

Book description: the future.

Gaius has been working hard to keep knowledge of Morgana's abilities from the girl herself and from Uther, fearing what the king might do if he were to discover that his ward is a magical being.

If anyone ever heard sounds of Morgana's distress in the night, if anyone did ever ask what was wrong, then Gaius just brushed them off. 'Bad dreams, that's all. Nothing to worry about,' he'd say.

2nd description: There was another worry too. 'Magic corrupts, he'd told Merlin, not that long ago. Once he'd stepped over that line again, would he ever be able to go back?

But of course, he knew he had to do it.

Whatever the consequences. Even if he hadn't already come to love Merlin as a son, even if Merlin wasn't destined to be a great warlock, Gaius had promised the boy's mother he would look after him.

3. For many years he has been a loyal servant to Uther, often serving his king rather than his conscience.

4. But through it all, the king had believed he was acting for the best. He believed that a world without magic was the right one for his people. Whatever he had done, he had done it for his kingdom.

And knowing that, Gaius remained loyal.

Despite everything.

[stellarcat52]

A familiar needs a magician... right? Right.

Esther died and Monty should have too. But something saved him and Caleb Covington has something to do with it. The warlock seems to want a familiar, and Monty just wants to be safe.

This is one part of a larger story. I'll post more if people seem interested!

-----

When a magician creates a familiar, it connects the animal to their soul. A familiar lives and dies with its magician. A familiar cannot feel hunger or thirst. They are not animals, nor are they tools. A familiar is the living connection between a magician and the spirit of the earth, a core of night infinite magic. But the familiar will never be able to draw on that magic without it passing through it to its magician. A familiar can only use the magic its magician chooses to give it.

If a familiar were ever to survive the death of its magician, nothing would stop it from using the earth’s magic for itself. Of course, this is a purely hypothetical, impossible phenomenon. 

“A ghost such as myself can’t get a familiar, not like you have…” Covington mused. “You’ll get access to whatever profit my clubs produce,” Including the magic, of course, but Covington wanted to make her get a big head when she eventually figures that out. It would make things easier if he ever needed to knock her down a peg in the future. “on the condition that Monty becomes mine when you perish.” He doubted Esther had ever even heard of the legend of an unbound familiar. If she had, well, she had no reason to believe Covington had the means to sever the tie between a dying witch and her bird.

Esther scoffed. “Death will come for you before Lillith gives up on me. What do you really want?” Nobody in their right mind would trust such an obviously one-sided deal. Not even a vain, self-serving immortal such as Esther. 

“An IOU, then, if you insist.” Covington had set a trap with only a few words. If she took it back, she’d seem weak or afraid of what the warlock would ask of her. But if she insisted that wasn’t enough, trying to make sure it wasn’t a trap, she’d be insulting Covington and risk him adding something she couldn’t give him to the deal. “But he is still part of the deal, yes? I’ve always wanted a pet bird”

Of course she agreed to this, Covington would give her credit where it was due but she truly knew nothing about dealing with him. The IOU was only a decoy, he’d never need anything else from that useless witch. But it kept her from wondering why Monty was what he asked for in the first place.

Covington made sure to scratch the crows head on his way out. 

The bird barely reacted.

-Years Later-

Thomas felt the shift in the air instantly. “Caleb.” He smiled. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

Covington was dressed to the nines like usual, Wasn’t quite his type, but Thomas could appreciate him nonetheless. “Can’t I just come visit an old friend? You haven’t been to my club as much recently.”

“Well, another ghost has caught my eye.” The cat king admitted. “But Esther’s got her paws on him, and only one of them is going to walk out. Honestly, I don’t know which party has the upper hand here.”

“And here I thought that was always you.”

“You flit.” Thomas purred. But his eyes glinted with distrust. “You aren’t just visiting, are you?”

“I came here to check on Esther, I wanted to see if our little deal would be coming to fruition anytime soon.”

“Then I guess we both have a reason to want her dead right now.”

“I suppose we do.” Covington was silently proud of himself for baiting her into taking power from his clubs all those years ago. It had always been a power play, an ace up his sleeve that had waited decades to finally be played. With nothing more than a click of his fingers, the power flow that Esther had long ago grown used to was cut off completely from her. It wouldn’t do much- he never let her take enough to hurt him- but it would throw her off just enough to give someone else the advantage.

-----

When Esther was dragged away by Lillith, Monty expected to follow her. As her familiar, he should have been destroyed with her. He always knew that was his fate. But death wasn’t what was coming for him. It was a different kind of magic. For a second, he feared it was Lilliths. But it wasn’t there to hurt him. In the mere fractions of a millisecond before her death caught up to Monty, this odd magic came to his rescue and severed the magic link before it could destroy him.

But with the severing, came darkness and silence, and there was no thud of his body hitting the floor for the detectives in the other room to have a chance of hearing. All they’d know, would be that there wasn’t a second body to bury. Not that there was only one soul to mourn, and even then…

-----

Monty woke up slowly to loud, energetic music. Something about Hollywood? It wasn’t worth paying attention to yet because the ambient magic in the air around him was buzzing. Esther never let this much magic run rampant,  but then again she was gone. Monty had to remember that. He stood and spread out his wings, flapped a few times too. Flying wasn’t entirely off the table, he wasn’t injured like he expected to be. But he was fatigued, and it was warm here- if a bit noisy. But the music was much more pleasant than the screams he’d hear in Esther’s house, so Monty didn’t mind.

He sat on the leather seat where he’d woken up for a few more minutes, listening to the music. But it ended, and a ghost warped into the room right in front of Monty’s eyes. A ghost that Monty took a moment to realize he recognized him. And Esther had only ever let him interact with a select few before… Monty might’ve been a bit slow at the time, but he never truly forgets a face or name of someone he knows.

Covington looked at him with a smile as Monty squawked rapidly in surprise. “Oh, I can’t understand you like this. Why don’t we…” He blew a kiss at the crow and Monty found himself human again. Caleb seemed pleasantly surprised, he’d never excelled at biological transformations, and so he had to assume this wasn’t his work. “I see Esther gave you a body of your own.”

“Not that I asked for it.” Monty mumbled. He still hated her for giving him human emotions. It had been nothing but heartbreak- sadness, anger,- ever since. “Sorry, Mr. Covington. Sir. I… thought I was supposed to vanish with Esther. Did she-?” Was this fear? Worry? Shouldn't he have felt hopeful or happy? If he was still alive…

“No.” Covington put on a look of sympathy. ”She didn’t survive. But she and I made a deal years ago that if she ever perished, you would come to me. And it seems that deal had enough power to bring you right to me.”

“Why would she do that? Why would you do that?” It was almost definitely not for Monty’s benefit. Panic- maybe just fear? What was the difference?- was starting to settle in. Was Covington going to treat him the same way that She did?

“Montague.” His name- was that even his name? Wasn’t it just Monty? He couldn't remember that far back.- caught him off guard. “A ghost like myself, magician or not, cannot acquire a familiar through normal means. Every chance I’ve had to get one I’ve tried to take. Esther’s passing is a horrible thing, but it has brought you to me and that is a wonderful thing.”

“Now, there might not be any spell that will bind you to me the same way you were bound to her, but I do hope you’ll stay with me. I have my dancers, but alas they’re not the same as having a familiar.” Covington’s hands were suddenly firmly on Monty’s shoulders. The touch further grounded? Him. Grounding was supposed to be comforting, right? So this feeling of being trapped was wrong. Must be the bird instincts carrying over. “It’s not the same as having a family, Montague. The one thing my magic cannot bring me, and yet here you are. But you do have a choice.” Surely he wanted an answer instantly, Esther would have.

“I…” Monty's eyes felt wet. Tears..? Fuck these human emotions. He wasn’t even sure what he was feeling- it was all just so much. “I don’t know yet.”

Covington didn’t seem surprised at that response. He was fine without a yes or no right now. “Why don’t you see if you like being human? Stay at the club for a bit.”He suggested. ”If you’d like a job, I could give you a simple one.”

A job. That’s what Monty was used to. That didn’t need emotions. A tension in his chest that he hadn’t noticed was suddenly gone. “That would be great. Whatever you need.”

Covington seemed surprised for a second, maybe not expecting Monty to be so eager? “We’ll start you small. Just delivering dishes to the lifers after performances.” He smiled. “Maybe if you decide to stick around I can teach you the choreography.” Covington suggested as he summoned a new outfit and ID card out of thin air and offered them to Monty.

Monty would pay more attention to his appearance later, but right then he was focused on the ID that he had just accepted. “Montague Finch-Covington?”

“I hope it isn’t too much. You’re family now, let me show you off just a bit.” 

Was this what familial love was supposed to be? Monty felt… warm. And that feeling didn’t fade when the music started up again and Covington had to excuse himself to go entertain his guests.

Monty looked at the card. A black feather border decorated a picture he definitely never posed for. Some kind of illusion magic, probably. Covington was powerful, a little illusion printed onto a card wouldn’t have been that hard.  Would it have been difficult for Esther? She never cared much for illusions except for her own cosmetics.

Maybe Monty should compare them less. Covington was an improvement in any way he could think of at the moment.

He might not have decided on being human or crow yet, but Monty had decided that he would be sticking around in Hollywood. He was a Covington now, and as a familiar, he was meant to stay near his family.

-----

Caleb’s expectations for Montague’s ability to entertain were blown out of the water. No matter who the unbound familiar approached, with or without food or purpose,vthey all took to him like moths to a flame. Even the other workers, most of which had to be forced to stick around, were eating out of the palm of Montague’s hand after just a few exchanged words. As for his singing, well, crows might not be well known for their song but Montague was born to be a star. Even if the boy was still too shy to sing if he knew someone could hear him.

He was almost perfect. A little confidence boost here, some etiquette teachings there… But Montague’s biggest flaw was that he didn’t yet know how to use his nigh unlimited magical power. Admittedly it was just legend that unbound familiars were the among the strongest beings in existence, a story that Caleb had never had the chance to prove before, but Montague definitely felt as though he had quite a lot of magic built up in that sometimes feathery form.

Caleb warped just outside the room he had offered Montague. He rapped his knuckles against the door and waited only a second for a response.

“Come in!”

“Montague…” Caleb trailed off. The boy was sitting on the bed, in an absolute mess of blankets that had previously been neatly tucked in.

“Please, just call me Monty. I don’t even remember if Esther gave me that long of a name.” Montague was adjusting the blankets in a manner that just made them seem more messy to Caleb but he was very intent on moving them around in such a way. “So what did you want?” 

Montague still wasn’t facing him, which gave him a clear view of the boy’s back which was tensing with anxiety. An emotion Caleb both wanted to eradicate and take advantage of. “I came to ask how you felt today? I worried sending you right to work would be too much but it seems I underestimated your abilities.”

Montague sighed. No reason to lie, really. “I… All these human emotions are still new to me. I’ve been fully awakened for maybe a month now?” He laughed nervously. “Working is about the only thing I think I can do right now.”

“Esther hadn’t awakened you?” No wonder he was so innocent. Still, there was some darkness behind those ever-sparkling eyes. “Did she not have the power?” Caleb traded a secret method of filter feeding power specifically so he could acquire a powerful familiar.

“She did. Just wouldn’t waste it on me until I would actually be useful.” The mess of blankets finally seemed to be to Montague’s liking and he turned around to face Caleb. “Even then, she practically killed me like two weeks later when I failed.” Caleb’s eyes went dark with distaste and Monty’s eyes went wide with implemented fear. “Sorry, sorry. You weren’t asking about-”

“Montague.” The familiar froze at his name. Or maybe it was just Caleb’s voice that had that effect. It commanded him, but not in the same way he was used to.. “Esther was vain, arrogant, and apparently much more of a fool than I had thought. The reason most lifer magicians have familiars is to bring them power and provide assistance but she ignored and hurt you?” Unless given a reason, even Caleb didn’t hurt his people. And he never ignored them, even if they sometimes wished he would. “You’re safe here. And if you’d like to be given jobs then I’ll find work for you.”

It was becoming evident to Caleb that Montague wasn’t going to be all that troublesome. Kindness was more than enough to both terrify and enrapture the boy. Something- maybe beyond Esther- had hurt him enough that he wouldn’t go off chasing silly emotions like love or pity. This wouldn’t be a repeat of William, in fact Montague was already more than that freedom chasing fool would ever be.

Caleb could tell Montague had something to say so he waited until the boy was ready to speak. “I thought familiars were just… animals. For so long. I-I still can’t see why you wanted one. Much less… me.”

“I can see you were never informed of your own power.” He clicked his tongue in disappointment, not exactly at Montague but he wanted to see the reaction. It terrified the boy. “A familiar is not just an animal. Magicians throughout the ages have taken pride in their familiars because of their abilities.”

“What abilities?” Montague scoffed. “I can’t do anything without Esther, or I guess you.”

“But you can, Esther simply failed to show you what you can do.” Caleb smiled. “All the magic I can do and more, that is what you are capable of. And I will teach you everything I know.” he promised.

Monty’s eyes flickered a gorgeous deep indigo just at the thought of doing magic. A testament to how much power he held. “When can we start?”

[idontknowreallywhy]

Estera Ch 5 - Lesson

(Prologue, Ch 1, Ch 2, Ch 3, Ch 4)

Have I finally got them out of the cave?

Will there be drama when they get to the surface?

Only one way to find out :)

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“Et tu, Brute?!”

“Then fall, Caesar” Estera muttered as a reflex. It always drove her crazy when the line was unfinished.

“Liberty! Freedom! Tyranny is dead!”

Her head snapped up in surprise to see him grinning. Well! She hadn’t expected him to actually know it. Laughing, she gestured behind him.

“If I promise not to stab you, can I have a quick look? I am a qualified first aider, maybe I can help?”

He backed into the wall.

“Honestly, it’s fine, just a little scratch and a bruise I can get it sorted when we are out.”

“It would be a good opportunity to demonstrate some of the lessons the children have learned in class? And it would keep their minds off other things.”

Right on cue, Sam appeared at her side with an eager expression and the smaller, more portable first aid kit she’d stowed in her rucksack just in case. If only she’d brought the large one.

“Oh wow that’s a big kit… you like to be prepared huh?”

She snorted derisively and beckoned him forward. There was a pause. She raised an eyebrow and waited.

His shoulders sagged and he walked towards her with a wry smile and a whispered “I am never going to live this down.”

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Having checked there were definitely no hitherto hidden exits he could take advantage of, he reluctantly sat down where she indicated and allowed her to step behind him, hoping it she wouldn’t pass out again. The rock had clearly nicked a couple of enthusiastic vessels because the sticky sensation had crept all the way down to the small of his back and it probably looked way more dramatic than it was. He plastered on a reassuring smile for the kids but none were looking at him because they were all crowded around a large bottle of hand sanitiser. Wait, what? Little Alex had a gleam in his eye as he scrubbed up to the elbows like a surgeon preparing for a transplant.

The smile became a little fixed. He wasn’t sure he had consented to a team approach.

The teacher was explaining something and had their rapt attention. He let himself be carried along by her voice too, it had a musical quality to it that was soothing. Lucky that, for someone who worked with little kids. He drifted a little then jumped as her face appeared over his left shoulder and he suddenly realised she’d been talking directly to him.

“Can I cut your suit? It’s got a little mangled.”

“No.”

“Oh. It’s already quite damaged I’m afraid…”

He shook himself.

“Sorry, I mean you won’t be able to… Here, use this.” He palmed the micro laser cutter from his baldric. “Um… maybe don’t give that to the kids.”

He winced as he felt the air on his back. Fortunately it was only the one pair of hands that proceeded to clean the wound, the small ones had paired off and were enthusiastically swabbing each other instead. Her hands were cooler than Virgil’s, but had a similar level of confidence… He forced himself to relax.

Suddenly, the eager mini-medics all crowded round, watching intently. Then retreated like a wave and started covering each other in steri strips.

“Right, should we use warm or cold for bruising, everyone?”

“COOOOOOLD” came the unanimous reply.

She reappeared over his shoulder, accompanied by the cracking of instant cold packs. “I’m going pop a couple of these over your ribs then tape your suit up to hold them in place. I think it would be best to put your arm in a sling to reduce the chance of you pulling the shoulder wound open again.”

For the sake of being a good example to the children he agreed. That was the only reason. Nothing to do with the power of the teacher voice. He sighed… “Yes, Miss”.

A little hand slipped into his and he looked down at Alex who was looking back at him earnestly.

“It’s ok for rescuers to need rescuing sometimes isn’t it, Mr Scott?”

He was saved from finding an appropriate response by his brother breaking through the wall.

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There had been a LOT of hugging and relieved tears. The rescuer who introduced himself as Virgil had finally gathered the parents to give them some quick advice on symptoms of dust inhalation and when they should seek assistance. Meanwhile the blue-eyed one, Scott that was it, was left-handedly signing the kids’ tattered worksheets and distributing tiny die-cast thunderbird models to many squeals of delight. She chuckled to herself as Alex excitedly snatched a model of the red rocket ship before reconsidering and replacing it with the silver and blue one, gazing adoringly at his new favourite-person-in-the-whole-world.

With any luck, much of the trauma of the situation the children had experienced would be overshadowed by the wonder of meeting their heroes. As she watched the injured man pulling funny faces and offering high fives she realised that was entirely deliberate on their part.

She really should find out more about them. The kids, apparently, had encyclopaedic knowledge and it would be best if she could keep up with what was going to be the primary topic of conversation for the foreseeable. They might not forgive her ignorance as quickly as with the plesiosaurs.

It wasn’t that she had deliberately ignored the Thunderbirds’ existence, hard to do that when they were all over the press (and she had to keep confiscating the trading cards until the end of the school day). Scott certainly seemed a bit familiar so she must have seen a press conference or something at some stage. But, well, she’d generally tried to shield herself a little from constant news of disaster and destruction that she could do little to fix. She threw herself into small scale things. She tried not to get overwhelmed by a world determined to drown her in that same sense of helplessness she’d battled against as her country collapsed around her, as she’d stared into the horrified eyes of a soul who knew he was about to die...

Ahhhh, she shook herself, that was the third time today he’d slipped through her defences. She really had to practice her exercises more. Screwing up her face then relaxing it into a pleasant smile she began to approach the group of parents who were beginning to disperse after their medical debriefing.

And got hijacked by two EMTs keen to ask her about her fainting fit in the cave. One of the children must have tattled on her.

She smiled politely, assured them confidently that she had no head injury but suffered from mild claustrophobia and that plus the shock of everything was probably all it was. Feeling it would be hypocritical to refuse, she allowed them to check her vitals and make some notes while she finally looked up and took in the bizarre scene around her. Her eyes drifted past the gleaming silver rocket towards the huge green cargo ship she’d heard so much about. Plenty of room for pockets indeed… she stifled a laugh and her gaze settled on the two international rescue operatives sat on the side of the ramp leading into the ship. The second man had seemed nice, if somewhat harried and oddly concerned about his colleague.

Beyond the temporary floodlights the sun was beginning to set, the sky was clear and the early stars were visible. She was struck by how close she had come to not seeing them again and felt a wave of gratitude for the second chance.

Third, actually.

She looked up the stars and wished she could have thanked the person who’d given her the second.

And then gasped, she had nearly done it again! They were about to leave and she hadn’t actually managed to find the time to express her thanks. She extricated herself from the attentions of the EMTs and hurried over to the two men in blue, running through a few potential phrases in her mind. They’d probably heard it all before.

“Excuse me, I’m sorry to bother you again”

Scott half looked up from where he was perched on a boulder and smiled distractedly while his colleague fussed over him with a medi-scanner. Without his helmet on he looked older than she was expecting, maybe early 40s, a hint of grey shot through the chestnut at his temples and the shadows under his eyes and cheekbones made her wonder just how many “long days” the guy had experienced recently. There was a deep sense of tiredness about him.

“I didn’t want to let you go without properly thanking you for all your help down there” she unthinkingly stuck out her right hand, realising too slowly that he wasn’t going to be able to take it.

Before she could withdraw it he’d reached out with his left hand, twisted his wrist to grasp her right and shook it awkwardly.

“Well thank you for patching me up, you left this little guy with not a lot to do.”

There was a huff behind him prompting another grin which this time reached his eyes as he looked up at her. Blue… vivid, unmistakable blue, sparkled with amusement and a spike of adrenaline hit her like a train.

It was him.

He was still holding her hand but hers was numb and she couldn’t feel it. The ground she was standing on tilted suddenly and she tried to hold on tighter to steady herself but her muscles wouldn’t respond

And she was going to fall.

And she heard him scream.

But he was still smiling and hadn’t noticed the world was collapsing. His eyes held a question.

“Thank you for rescuing me” her voice cracked

“Again.”

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“Virgil, please, it’s alright. Look it’s just a bit of bruising and a few cuts which you’ll note are already expertly dressed.”

His brother scowled at the scanner which, for once, was backing up Scott’s assertion that he was fine.

Virgil’s litany of grumbling was interrupted by the reappearance of the teacher.

She was younger than he’d thought, probably early 30s, and he was amused to see that amongst the dusty strands of dark brown hair that had fallen from the practical knot at the back of her neck was a lock of bright blue. A little rebellious streak perhaps?

He gave her a tiny wink along with the backwards handshake and wondered how hard Virgil would kick him if he asked for her number.

The blood drained from her face as their eyes met. Huh, not the usual reaction to his attempts to flirt, he noted wryly, maybe he was losing his touch.

Wait, what did she mean “Again”? He frowned in confusion. When had they…?

The sense of unease rushed back into his bones and brought all of its howling friends.

The smell of rust, the taste of blood, a decade of phantoms.

Without conscious thought he was on his feet and had dragged his arm from the sling to grab her by the shoulders as he studied her face… it couldn’t be…

She visibly flinched but lifted her chin to hold his gaze.

Realising his mistake he hurriedly released her and tried to find words, any words… but none would come. His lips moved soundlessly as he stared. It couldn’t be, could it?

“Miss Hermaszewska, mummy says have you got my inhaler?”

She blinked and turned to follow the child who tugged at her sleeve.

Virgil had him by the good arm and was leading him back towards the ships, his concerned voice rumbling questions Scott couldn’t focus on right now. He tried to follow her and his brother’s grip tightened, restraining him. Fury and panic raged through his veins. He snarled and shook the unrelenting hands off violently, spinning to face the aggressor before the shocked face of his brother snapped him back to the present and his heart plummeted.

He ran for his ship and One was in the air before the seat had fully retracted.

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Chapter 6…

[hiraeth-witch-11]

The Greed of Men Part 5

Warnings: canon typical shit, Katya being a feisty little shit

Word count: 1600ish

The next morning you are shown to your rooms. They aren’t as opulent as Alina’s, but you prefer them this way. The bed is still too soft, the sheets too smooth, the pillows too plump, but you force yourself to use them anyway. The wardrobe is stocked with functional clothing and 2 black coats that feel suspiciously like corecloth. You’d like to complain about the color, or at least about the assumption in making most of your clothing black, but it really does suit you, so you hold your tongue.

The next few days are relatively monotonous. Alina trains and you follow her around as often as you can. Usually watching from a distance so she doesn’t feel you hovering. She knows you’re there, though, and will wave when she catches your eye. The change in her hasn’t ceased to amaze you. It’s been so long since she seemed truly healthy and now, all of the sudden, she’s grown and strong and powerful in ways you had only ever been able to dream of for her.

Alina’s confidence is yet another thing you are happy to see improve. She is more sure of herself, of her place in the world, more comfortable in her own skin. You’ll never admit it, but you are grateful to the Darkling for keeping her safe and helping her grow. Arguably much of that change has come from Botkin and Baghra, but you catch the General checking in on her every now and then. Offering words of support, constructive criticism, and even praise. 

You still think he should at the very least be stabbed for this flirtation he has with your sister. She’s far too young for him. For now, you have decided to let the fragile peace remain between the 3 of you. You’ll save the stabbing for another day. So long as he keeps his hands to himself, you will allow him to keep his hands.

Today, you are observing Alina spar with a particularly skilled squaller, one you’ve noticed scowling in Alina’s direction frequently. You’re nearby this time, making small conversation with Botkin.

“Do you fight?”

“Often,” you reply with a grin. He gestures to the training field and you shake your head. “I couldn’t impose on you like that.”

“You are afraid.” Botkin states and you have the feeling he’s mocking you.

“It wouldn’t be fair for your students.”

“You would deny them the chance to learn?”

You watch the squaller knock your sister on her ass for the 3rd time today and shrug. “When you put it that way, I guess I have to do it now.”

“Who do you choose?”

“Who’s your best?”

“Zoya.” The squaller sparring with Alina looks up at his words.

“Perfect,” you say sincerely.

The two of you enter the circle drawn in the dirt.

“Kick her ass, Kat,” Alina says in your ear as you pass her. You smirk. This should be fun. Saints know you need some stress relief.

“I do have a few years on you, squaller. I’ll go easy on you.” You can’t resist the urge to taunt Zoya.

“From what I’ve heard, you’re a no-name street rat. I don’t expect it to be much of a fight.” 

You smile thinly, but you aren’t bothered by her words, and strike first. It’s more of a warning shot than anything, you are unsurprised when she dodges it. Zoya swings a fist towards your jaw and you block it with your left forearm, throwing a punch with your right fist. This one lands and she grimaces, recovering quickly, stepping closer to you and hooking a leg around your own in an attempt to throw you. You let her, but use the momentum of the move to continue rolling the two of you until you land atop her, hand resting on her throat.

“Good match,” you offer your hand out once the two of you are standing.

Zoya ignores it and hisses,” Beginner’s luck.”

“If you wanted a rematch, you only had to ask,” you quip with a shrug.

“Ms. Starkov,” The General calls from Botkin’s side. You and Alina both look towards him. “The elder Ms. Starkov.”

“Saved by your General, princess. Next time I won’t go so easy on you.” The look Zoya gives you might be strong enough to kill a lesser woman. 

You join the General and ask, “What do you need? Sir.” You add the ‘sir’ for the sake of appearances and because you know the Darkling will hear its sarcasm.

“Come take a walk with me, Ms. Starkov.”

You wait until the 2 of you are a safe distance away to begin your usual banter. “Are we going to have another one of our ‘chats’ where you ‘don’t’ try to kill me?”

“Baghra is aware of your ability,” the Darkling said, ignoring you.

“You mean you told her,” you say pointedly.

“Yes. She would like to meet you.”

“Oh, excellent,” you say with glee.

The Darkling turns to you with a raised eyebrow. “That is not the reaction I was expecting.”

“I heard she hits students with her cane, swarms them with bees, and other various tortures. I can’t wait to see what she tries with me.” There’s a skip in your step as you turn yourself around so you walk backwards as you speak with the General. “When does she want to meet me?”

“Now,” the Darkling says.

“Today is turning out great!” You exclaim, clapping your hands. “Oh come on, why are you looking at me like that? I like fucking with bullies. It’s one of my favorite, mostly legal, pastimes.”

“I look forward to hearing how it goes, Ms. Starkov,” he says and you swear he’s trying not to smile.

“You aren’t coming with?” You ask as you arrive by Baghra’s hut.

“Your… conversation with Baghra will likely be more productive without my presence. She and I do not see eye to eye on most things.”

“Really? You don’t get along with someone? That’s super surprising.”

“Very amusing, Ms. Starkov,” the General says dryly.

“I try,” you grin and give him a wink before stepping into the hut and closing the door behind you.

The woman in front of you is both ancient and ageless. Her skin is mostly smooth, but her hair is graying, and her eyes have a depth to them that only time can give.

“Have a seat, girl.”

“You wanted to talk with me,” you prompt as you sit across from her.

“Have some tea,” Baghra orders more than offers.

“I’m good, thanks.”

“Hm. So you are the woman who claims to be the Sun Summoner’s sister. I must admit, I fail to see the resemblance.”

“We aren’t related by blood, but we are family.”

“I see. You’ve known her for 10 or so years now, and you’ve never told her about your summoning. It sounds like you don’t trust her very much, for family.”

“So this is your angle then?” You roll your eyes. “Trying to drive a wedge between me and Alina, getting into my head. Very original. Do you have any family, Baghra?”

“This conversation is not about me, girl.”

“My name is Katarina, not girl, and this conversation is very much about you. What is it about you that is so broken you want to break everyone else?”

“How dare you?” Baghra spits out sternly.

“Quite easily. If this little chat doesn’t have a real purpose, then I am going to leave.”

Baghra’s posture relaxes slightly. “You aren’t what I expected.”

“Good.”

“The General tells me you are an adequate shadow summoner.”

“Does he really? High praise coming from him.”

“He also tells me you claim to be self taught.”

“I am self taught, unless you know any other shadow summoners besides the Darkling running around Ravka, I didn’t really have any other option.”

“You taught yourself the Cut.”

“Yes.”

“Shadow-walking?”

“Yes.”

“Simultaneous, multi-limbed movement?”

“Yes.”

“Shields, walls, and barriers?”

“I’m still working on those,” you admit.

“Intriguing. I will teach you from now on.”

“No you won’t.”

“Why not?”

“Because I don’t like you and I think you are a duplicitous snake,” you respond cheerfully. While Alina may not have picked up on the depths of Baghra’s manipulative nature, you can tell this woman has about a thousand personal agendas just by looking at her. Much like the General, though you find Baghra to be more off putting. 

“You don’t know me, girl.”

“I trust my instincts.”

“Do you truly believe the Darkling to be a superior instructor? That he does not have any ulterior motives for everything he says and does?”

“Oh I’m certain he does.”

“Very well. I will not force you to stay.”

“Good, I don’t do very well with being forced into things.” With that, you get up and leave. You’re surprised to see the General still waiting for you on the other side of the door.

“You’re still here.”

“That was quicker than I expected.”

“Were you expecting me to drink the drugged tea?” 

The Darkling looks surprised. “I was not aware you knew about her tea drugging habits.”

“Alina told me. Don’t you think allowing her to beat, terrorize, and drug your soldiers is a bit much?”

“I admit some of her methods may be extreme at times, but they are effective.”

“If you have to harm a child to teach them, then maybe you aren’t a good teacher.”

“The world my Grisha grow up in is not good or fair, Ms. Starkov. They are in danger from the moment their abilities manifest. Sometimes cruel and extreme measures are needed to prepare them for that reality.”

“It shouldn’t be that way. Grishenka are training to be soldiers from the moment they arrive. No one should have to be concerned about war that young.”

“No, they shouldn’t,” the Darkling agrees, solemnly. “One day, Grisha will no longer need to fear the world around them. They will no longer live to be soldiers.”

“I hope I live to see that day,” you say earnestly.

“You will, Ms. Starkov.”

**********

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