#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.”

[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.”

[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 have 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 are 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 lot formed in my chest, and I hurried back over there. 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 out the water 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 to 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 in 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 Paul,” she told me, “No matter how angry you were or what he did, you would still go save him if he was trying to kill himself. Just like you 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.

---

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)

[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.

[totallyjustabunchofhocuspocus]

Fic: Something to Sink Your Teeth Into 18/?

Pairing: Buck/Tommy

Vampire/Witch!AU

Read on AO3

“Just say I spelled you! You can pin all this on me! I can put a hex on you. Something minor, something you can break easy…your coven can lodge a complaint with the high coven and they’ll sense the magic still on you. You go in all pissed that I controlled you, give them some details, show you’re cooperating. As old as you are, they’ll believe I wasn’t able to hold a hex long term. They’ll be so focused on finding me, they should leave you guys alone. You can walk away.”

Evan said it so calmly, so matter-of-factly. As though throwing him to the wolves to save his own skin was just the most logical step that Tommy could take. As though Tommy shouldn’t even bother trying to come up with any other plan. His voice was steady, convincing, brave even.

But his heart stuttered in his chest.

His breath hitched on the last words, barely audible even to Tommy’s enhanced senses.

He wouldn’t quite meet Tommy’s eyes.

The idea of forging off alone on Grant’s ‘distraction’ mission scared him. Of course it did. Tommy was not particularly keen to go play bait for agents of the Southern California high coven, and he had centuries of experience in such matters. Evan would be an idiot to not be afraid…and yet looking at him, Tommy could tell he was serious. He wouldn’t just take the opportunity to run, to try and flee the state. He’d genuinely put himself in that kind of danger to try and buy Grant and her coven whatever kind of time he could to figure out a way to prevent a coven war. From what Tommy had seen and heard, Evan’s own kind wouldn’t cross the street to spit on him if he was on fire, but he was willing to risk his freedom and his life to try and keep a coven war from erupting because innocent people would be caught in the crossfire. His witch was that brave, that selfless.

Damn it, he had to stop doing that. Evan wasn’t his anything.

But here he was, in Tommy’s safe haven, dressed in Tommy’s clothes, the maddening, tempting scent of him washing through the place and mingling with Tommy’s own. For a moment, all Tommy could concentrate on was how right it felt. How right it had felt to have Evan at his back, at his side. How effortless it had been to fall into a rhythm with him at the office building, how easily he had trusted that none of Evan’s spells would go astray. Ever since he’d taken his witch out of Gerrard’s party, it had felt like a puzzle piece had slotted into place somewhere, like he’d found something he hadn’t even realized he was missing.

He didn’t understand it. He found himself trusting Evan like he trusted Sal, who had been his friend for hundreds of years. He trusted Evan like he trusted Lucy, his turn in every way that counted, the little sister he could no longer remember if he’d ever had. It was madness to give Evan the same level of trust, the same level of regard.

But it felt so right.

And the idea of stepping aside to leave Evan to face down the high coven alone, to leave his witch to defend himself against whoever was pulling all the strings around them…Tommy had no words for how wrong that felt. Every instinct he had screamed out against the very idea.

“Evan,” he started, searching for the words that would make Evan understand that Tommy was in this just as deeply as he was, that Tommy wasn’t going to just stand aside and leave him in danger.

But before the words could come, his perimeter alarm went off. Evan flinched back and barked out a spellword, an orb of white light igniting around one hand as Tommy whirled to face the front door. In a flash, he was pressed against the edge of the front window, easing the heavy curtain aside just a crack as he listened intently for approaching intruders. He held up a staying hand when he heard Evan move behind him, gratified when his witch instantly went still.

“What is it?” Evan whispered, but Tommy just shook his head, reaching over to the alarm panel by the door to punch in the code to silence it.

The alarm for the gate at the end of the bungalow’s long driveway had been disarmed. Someone who knew his gate code had triggered the secondary motion detectors he had along the fence line. He straightened, sighing in relief at the realization that whoever had breached his property wasn’t an enemy…but a wary sort of caution settled over him anyway.

Sal or Lucy would have texted him to let him know to disable his secondary security systems. Josh, Ravi, and the rest of the coven didn’t even know this place existed, and he trusted that neither Sal nor Lucy would have told anyone. The only other person who knew where this place was and had his gate code was…

“It’s all right,” he said over his shoulder, glancing behind him. Evan frowned uneasily, but dismissed the orb of magic with a flick of his hand. Outside the house, Tommy heard the rumble of an engine pull up the driveway, pause at the front of the house, and then continue along to the covered carpark in the back. “But let me do the talking, okay?”

“Who is it?” Evan demanded, his eyes darting to the back door in the kitchen once the vehicle got close enough for him to hear it too.

Tommy sighed. He would have appreciated a head’s up from Sal or Lucy, but he understood why they hadn’t. Not everyone had the leeway Tommy did with their unexpected guest.

“My coven master,” he said

*

The vampire who called himself Gabriel Alonzo these days was not an imposing figure, to look at him.

He’d been older than Tommy had been when he was turned, balding and starting to go soft around the middle, closer to Gerrard’s age when his human life had ended.

But the aura of power that surrounded him as he stepped into the bungalow was unmistakable. Alonzo was not ancient, did not give off the air of danger and strength that Tommy knew he himself did…but he was old. And his presence commanded respect.

Tommy only knew a little about Alonzo’s past—he’d been a scholar at some university in Spain in the late 1500’s, a minor aristocrat. Beyond that, Tommy didn’t really know the details. Partly because most vampires who made it past three or four hundred years had trouble recalling the specifics of lives that had ended centuries ago. Partly because he and Alonzo just weren’t that kind of close. He counted his coven master as a friend, trusted him and deferred to him in coven political matters…but they weren’t close. He didn’t care about Alonzo the way he cared about Sal and Lucy, or even Ravi and Josh.

His coven master stepped into the living room, his dark eyes immediately landing on Evan, who had shifted himself back by the bookshelves next to the fireplace, where he’d been huddled last night. Tommy heard Evan’s heartbeat kick up as Alonzo sized him up, but his witch didn’t flinch under the scrutiny. Instead, he squared his shoulders, and a little bit of his own crackling aura of power came to the fore, magic just barely crackling in the air around him. Tommy had no right to the pride that flashed through him—but he felt it anyway.

“Alonzo, this is Evan,” he said, not quite interposing himself between his coven master and his witch, but casually positioning himself that he’d be able to intervene if Alonzo decided to attack. He didn’t think Alonzo would do something like that, but he saw Evan relax slightly out of the corner of his eye. “Evan, this is Gabriel Alonzo.”

Evan gave a short, jerky nod, not offering any kind of greeting. His eyes kept darting between Tommy and Alonzo, clearly nervous—but willing to follow Tommy’s lead.

Alonzo looked Evan up and down again before turning to Tommy with a carefully neutral expression. “Thomas,” he said, never one for nicknames as long as Tommy had known him. But he wasn’t calling him ‘Kinard,’ so he wasn’t angry. Yet. “I’m really hoping you have an explanation for why Mehta and Marks have been sending messages inquiring about your status in our coven.”

That…was not what Tommy had been expecting Alonzo to say. He reeled back a little. “What?”

Alonzo sighed, his lips compressing into a thin line. “Jeshan and Andrew have both been calling all morning, asking if you’d gone rogue. Thomas, they’re saying you were involved in a fight downtown yesterday where multiple vampires were killed. They said the SoCal high coven is involved now. Is it true?”

“That’s, uh, that’s a pretty Cliffs notes version of what’s going on, but they’re not wrong,” Tommy said, looking back at Evan briefly. “How did it get around to the other covens already?”

“Thomas! Why the hell am I just hearing about this? What did you do?”

“I was going to call you later tonight,” Tommy hedged. “After Evan and I checked some things out.” It wasn’t exactly a lie, but he really should have updated his coven master about what was going on last night—as soon as he’d gotten a better idea of the scale of the shitstorm he’d stepped into. He didn’t even have a real reason for why he hadn’t gotten in touch with his coven. He couldn’t very well say that he’d been so incredibly distracted by the effect Evan and the strangely intense connection he felt with the witch that it had slipped his mind.

“That still doesn’t answer my question,” Alonzo snapped.

Tommy frowned at the tone, exchanging another look with Evan. Quickly, he launched into an explanation of what they had discovered so far—starting with how he’d taken Evan out of Gerrard’s party, and going all the way through their meeting with Grant’s coven the night before. Alonzo’s face grew darker and darker as Tommy spoke, his eyebrows drawing together in a thunderous frown.

“Do you have any idea how much danger you’ve put our coven in?” he demanded as soon as Tommy was done. “You were recognized and you didn’t think to tell us?”

“You’re right. I should’ve called you. I was hoping to keep the coven out of it, but I should’ve called you as soon as I knew how fucked up the situation with Greenway and Gerrard’s parties was.”

“You’re damn straight you should have! Thomas, running around with a witch? Unsanctioned killings? Being targeted by the high coven? Do you know what kind of position this puts me in?! Mehta knows you; he just wants your side of the story, but Marks? He and his allies think you’ve either been spelled or gone rogue!”

“Alonzo, this is bigger than I thought it was! Someone’s trying to touch off a coven war in LA, what was I supposed to do?” Tommy pushed back, a growl he couldn’t quite suppress curling through his voice.

“What I told you to do in the first place!” Alonzo snarled. He stabbed a finger towards Evan. “Get rid of him! Turn him over to the high coven, tell them whatever they need to hear to keep them the hell off our backs so I can start damage control with our kind!”

“They’ll kill him,” Tommy said, taking a reflexive step closer to Evan.

It was something he’d been trying to avoid thinking about, something he’d been trying to avoid acknowledging. But there was no doubt in his mind. If either side of this mess got their hands on Evan, his witch would be killed.

“He’s a witch,” Alonzo said firmly, glaring harshly at Evan. “Whether they live or die isn’t our problem.” Tommy bristled, his fangs aching in his mouth, his eyes starting to grow scarlet. Alonzo’s posture turned wary, his eyes narrowing. “Thomas,” he warned.

“No one’s touching him,” Tommy said, the words ripping out of him before he could think about it, before he could reflect on them. It was instinctive. Immediate.

And true.

While Tommy could prevent it, nothing was going to hurt his witch.

Evan made a soft, surprised sound behind him, but he didn’t dare take his eyes off Alonzo. His coven master wasn’t stronger or faster than him, even when he hadn’t recently drunk witch blood, but Alonzo was crafty…and far more dangerous than he appeared.

“Thomas,” Alonzo said quietly. “If you don’t abandon this situation, I can’t protect you. I can’t protect us. The entire coven will be in danger.”

“T—Kinard,” Evan said, speaking up for the first time, his words stumbling slightly in the way he had been all morning. Tommy was trying not to read too much into the sound of it, a little alarmed by how very much he wanted to hear his name on Evan’s lips. “I can handle myself. You should—”

“I should what, Evan? Turn you over to the high coven? Go track down those fuckers that just tried to kill us and see if they want another round with you?”

With another warning glare at his coven master, he turned to face Evan. His witch met his eyes squarely, a tired sadness in them that Tommy wondered if Evan was even aware of. “It’s okay,” he said softly. “I’ve been on my own before. I can manage. Just do what I said before…let me leave and have your coven master lodge a complaint with the high coven. Tell them I spelled you. I don’t—I don’t know what to do about the vampires, but at least that’ll get my people off of your coven.”

“Well. I wasn’t expecting you to be the voice of reason,” Alonzo said, sounding reluctantly impressed. “Listen to him, Thomas. We don’t have a lot of time to go with that story—not even a powerful witch could control you for very long.”

Tommy stared at Evan, his mind racing as he searched for some option—any option—that kept both his coven and his witch safe. That didn’t drag the people he cared most about any deeper into this mess or leave his witch standing alone in it.

He couldn’t let anything happen to Lucy. To Sal, and Ravi, and Josh, or any of the others. Hell, he didn’t want anything to happen to Alonzo either, no matter how difficult his coven master was being. He was trying to protect the coven the only way he thought he could—Tommy couldn’t be mad at him for that.

He couldn’t let anything happen to Evan.

He could not. With no reason, rhyme, or logic to it, he knew that something happening to Evan would wound him. Would wound him deeply. Evan finally looked away from him, his open, expressive face suddenly shuttering. Tommy watched a blank, emotionless mask slide over his witch’s features, as if he wasn’t affected at all by two vampires arguing over which of the paths that led directly to his death they should take. Only his eyes held any spark of life to them—and the building resignation in them hit Tommy like a punch to the throat. He wondered if this was the front Evan had tried to put up during his trial.

There was only one path forward for him. “I can’t do that,” he said, not looking away from Evan, an irrational fear seizing him that if he looked away for an instant, his witch would vanish. “Evan, whoever is orchestrating all this, I’m not leaving you to face them down by yourself.”

“Thomas, are you insane?” Alonzo interjected. “You can’t be serious!” He started to pace back and forth, and now Tommy stepped deliberately between him and Evan. “If you do this, then I’ll have no choice but to disavow you. Sever our alliance.”

Behind him, he heard Evan take a sharp breath. He straightened himself to his full height, calling on the cool detachment that had seen him through more battles than he would ever be able to remember. “Exactly,” he said.

At that, Alonzo froze, turning slowly to face him. His normally calm exterior cracked completely, surprise and no small amount of disbelief twisting his face. “You’d leave? Lucy? Salvatore? You’d leave them, us, your coven for nearly two centuries…for that?!” He threw out his hand toward Evan, and Tommy’s jaw clenched.

“I don’t expect you to understand,” he said.

“Because I don’t!” Alonzo roared. His own eyes gleamed scarlet, and Tommy relaxed his stance, ready to spring in any direction if Alonzo lunged for Evan. “He’s a witch!”

“I have my reasons,” Tommy said calmly.

“Reasons? I haven’t heard a minute of reason out of you since I arrived,” Alonzo spat.

“Disavow me. Sal will swear he witnessed…tell him I said not to be as stupid as he was in Genoa if he argues. Mehta will back you. I know you two have been talking about an alliance ever since Ortiz started making serious moves…do it. There will still be enough people scared of pissing me off to give you all some protection until you can solidify an alliance with Mehta’s coven.”

“Thomas,” Alonzo said, the stunned disbelief overtaking the anger in his face. “You’ll be covenless.”

Tommy shrugged with a carelessness he didn’t feel. “I’ve been covenless before.” He pressed a closed fist over his heart and gave a short bow, a gesture that was as engrained into his muscle memory as which hand he used to write with, though he couldn’t recall the leader he’d first used it to salute. “I can’t do what you’re asking me to. But the coven’s not safe as long as I’m a part of it, right now. So do what you need to, Gabriel.”

Alonzo stared at him a long moment, and then his face hardened. “Thomas Kinard,” he said. “Our alliance is ended. You are no longer recognized as a member of our coven, and are entitled to nothing of ours.”

Vampire covens were different from witch covens. There were no magical bonds connecting them, nothing to sever and diminish. If Alonzo had been his maker, it would have been different…but Alonzo was not the bastard. Tommy’s presence in Alonzo’s coven was purely a political alliance, enforced only by their own choice to remain allies. Alonzo’s coven was not even the first that he had been part of since the bastard’s influence over him had been removed by his second death. It was the first coven that Tommy had seen himself staying with, though. The first coven that had felt like more than a port in a storm, more than a convenience.

Tommy was almost a thousand years old. Hell his name had come into common use during his human lifetime. He was no stranger to loss.

But loss still hurt.

“Gabriel Alonzo, our alliance is ended,” he said formally. “Tell Sal and Lucy I’ll call them when…if it’s safe. I’ll explain.”

Alonzo scoffed, but Tommy knew him well enough to read the real regret in his expression. “You know there’ll be no explaining this to those two.” He ran his hand down his face and sighed. “If the high coven comes to my door, I’m not going to be able to do much to throw them off your scent, Thomas.”

“I don’t expect you to. Get me a heads up when that happens if you can.”

Alonzo inclined his head, before shooting one more dark look in Evan’s direction. Then he turned on his heel and stalked out of the bungalow, exiting the way he’d come. Tommy did not fully relax until he heard the car start up outside, and then cracked his neck back and forth. He closed his eyes briefly, before turning to face Evan.

His witch was staring at him in complete shock, his eyes wide and wild. “Evan, remember,” he said gently. “Coven bonds aren’t like what you’re used to for us. This isn’t…it doesn’t hurt me.”

A lie, but only a small one. Being exiled from his coven wasn’t going to harm him or diminish his power.

Evan shook his head silently, his brow furrowing. “Why…” he started, but broke off, looking off to the side and swallowing harshly. “Why did you do that?” he said finally.

There were several answers he could give, some of which even made at least a little sense. He was no more eager to see a coven war start in LA than Evan was. He believed that Howie’s coven would be able to get to the bottom of what Greenway—and by extension, Evan—had been embroiled in. This even freed him up to be less cautious in his actions, now that he no longer had to worry so much about them coming back on his coven. None of them were true, though.

He had done it because he could no more leave Evan to face this danger alone than he could go out and bask under the light of the sun. Evan didn’t belong to him. He had no claim over the witch, nothing tying them together that would warrant this. And yet…

And yet.

Evan was his witch.

And Tommy was beginning to realize that breadth of what he’d do for his witch was terrifying.

[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

[jahayla-parker]

💭Headcanon: send in a character and a scenario or type of reader to get a bullet point list of thoughts on it.

okay okay, kaz brekker x sister!reader

Kaz Brekker's Sister Headcannons

I feel like his sister would be the youngest (born after both Jordie and Kaz). 'Cause part of his trauma is being afraid to rely on someone older who he thought would take care of him.

Running with that thought, Kaz would take that ^^^ type of role towards his sister very seriously. He vowed he wouldn’t let her down the way Jordie let him down (don’t come for me! His internal thoughts mention this frustration in the books so it’s canon).

We know Kaz is obviously very protective over those he cares about, which would undoubtedly extend to his sister. But, his role as the older brother added to that. And his disappointment and anger towards Jordie’s role in what happened ask those years ago, added to that as well; he wasn’t going to do that to his sister.

Although, he knew it wasn’t something he could prevent. Since it already happened to her once; the same day it happened to him. Jordie was her older brother as well. But Kaz nevertheless vowed to never let her down.

Kaz vowed to never make her have to worry about or even question having a roof over her head, a warm room to sleep in, food , etc.

He kept a healer on hand should she get sick ever (even so much as a cold). He wasn’t taking any chances. While he refused to let healers touch him he required it for her wellbeing.

She never had to worry about her safety. He’d taught her how to defend herself, how to fight, kill, etc.

He kept her from having to experience the financial difficulties he was old enough to experience due to Jordie’s deal with Rollins and as they aged, he made sure it stayed that way now that she was old enough to be able to know if that was the case as he made sure they always had enough funds saved up and the means to get more some should it be needed.

Kaz would’ve been so upset when his sister became ill, to the point it inadvertently made himself much sicker from stress.

Kaz tried to do whatever he could to get her feeling better, giving any scraps of sustenance to her instead of taking his portion/share and using their only blanket to cover more of her body by not covering any of his.

It would only have driven his anger against Pekka even further because he not only lost his older brother, he almost lost his little sister and he watched her suffer the loss of jordie as well

Given she was so young (given the age gap between Jordie and Kaz at the time of incident, I’m assuming she’s roughly 7 ish), it was a lot to process and try to make sense of

And poor Kaz wasn’t much better at that; certainly not to the point he’d be able to be much help for her in this area

As such, he resorted to simply helping raise her as if this new life was simply how their lives had always been

Because he’d used the blanket on her and not himself, and had literally given her some of the clothing off his back to keep her from freezing to death, she’d managed to survive the night.

In fact, while her body was too hypothermic to wake up when the medics came through and took her brothers, she was fortunate enough to be just warm enough to not be considered dead the way Kaz was, and as such, wasn’t dumped in the harbor with Jordie.

As such, she didn't develop the trauma with touch like Kaz

But, it was her presence on land that truly drove Kaz’s survival.

His body was giving up and he wanted nothing more than to just give in

And he especially didn’t want to have to use his brother’s body as a flotation mechanism in order to survive

But his vengeance and his inherent need to protect his little sister drove him

We know Kaz is shit when it comes to being around sick people now (understandably) but the one exception would be his sister should she fall ill.

That’s not to say he wasn’t still horrible at handling it, or that he wouldn’t go into a full on panic spiral at the tiniest sign of her getting sick

But, he was also unable to pull himself from her side until she healed.

He refused to ever risk being away from her while she was ill ever again.

As far as his touch phobia, that undoubtedly extended to his sister as well, although he truly hated himself for it (more so than when it came to his touch phobia in general).

But, it was out of his control. Besides things got better with time.

It started rough and killed his spirit each time when his little 7yr old sister wanted to hold her surviving brother’s hand while walking through the “scary” streets of the Barrel or otherwise simply sought physical comfort from him.

Especially because he’d once been able to offer that to her and he knew she was old enough to remember that and he saw the clear proof of that in her sad eyes every time he pulled away

But by that point, he’d suffered the worst of it. So he knew they’d power through

The worst was when he made it back to her and he’d had to explain to her that jordie was not coming back. As if her sobs and screams weren’t painful enough for Kaz, she tried to cling onto him for support, only to find herself confused and more distraught when he scrambled away

With time, the two orphans inevitably took over the town.

At first Kaz wouldn’t let his sister get involved

Until he realized that was futile, especially if he wanted her to start safe

He had caught her defiantly trying to help on her own, so he eventually caved and taught her everything she needed to now how to do and brought her into the business

Inej and Kaz’s interaction about crows was actually similar to what happened with his sister years before and that’s what made him choose to name their new elite crewmembers and dare his sister say friends, his crows.

Kaz used his power in the Barrel to create a safety shield around his sister

He knew she was a vulnerability to him and in turn was at risk by association, so most people didn’t know she was his sister

She’d been hurt at first when he told her this was how they’d go about their new life, after all, she was so young and didn’t understand but he did it for her sake

And if people did find out about them being siblings, they’d assume that she and Kaz must not be as close as normal siblings because they saw the business relationship only and assumed that’s all there was between them even when finding out about the blood relation (it helped that Kaz always made a name for himself as someone who didn’t care about anyone else), which worked to keep people from using her as bait or something against Kaz. Which was what he’d masterminded of course.

She was 7 so she didn’t understand the need to change their last names and start fresh but she trusted Kaz fully

She is and was the only person he ever took flack from and or allowed/allows to yell or argue etc with him but only in private

Kaz knew his sister would be struggling with Jordie’s death, as he himself was and still is

But he knew he was not going to be much help

He did as much as he could, if she’d suffered anxiety or panic attacks, he was there to offer verbal assistance and support

And he helped her take part in getting revenge for what they went through

But he couldn’t talk about it. It was still too much and talking was no longer a strength of his.

He couldn’t talk to her when she was younger as he needed her to simply follow along with what he said and believe this was just the way things went all along

But as they got older he still found himself unable to talk to her about it

But that’s why he finally told Inej just enough for her to know that his sister would be having similar issues as him since she was so worried about his behaviors and in turn, he knew Inej would go to her and be able to offer the support he couldn’t

Again, I could go on and on, but I loved this idea!

Kaz Taglist: @dil3mma @directioner5life @ell0ra-br3kk3r @b3kk3r-by-br3kk3r @winstonthecow22 @alex-kazbrekkersimp @wolfmoonmusic @phoenix666stuff @kentucky-criedfricken @twlegit @valeridarkness @shara-ne @crazyhearttragedy @opheliaofficial07 @historynerd77 @missdreamofendless @nikfigueiredo @el-de-phi @adalia-jaycee @bookloverfilmoholic @beekeepingageissome

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[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.”

[sixhours]

bright spots - chapter 7

Series Chapter Index | Read on AO3 | In progress

Rating: Teen Words: 2k Series tags: The Last of Us, The Last of Us (HBO), Joel & Ellie, Joel Miller, Ellie Williams, Marlene, canon divergence, hospital AU, medical stuff, blood, hurt/comfort, angst, canon-typical violence, vomiting, implied rape/sexual assault, I've probably forgotten some so please let me know <3

Joel

A week of tests and blood draws passes, and then they’re escorted to a wing on the next floor up. The door to the suite reads Imaging & Diagnostics and Joel recognizes the tube-shaped contraption in the next room as an MRI machine.

“Whoa…it’s like a fuckin’ spaceship,” Ellie gasps, immediately reaching out to touch the machine, poking her head inside.

Marlene chuckles. “Kind of. It’s going to take pictures of you. Hopefully.”

 Joel narrows his eyes. “Hopefully?”

“Well…you can imagine what it took for us to get this thing working after twenty years of gathering dust…corrosion…and finding someone with the right skills to refurbish it. And it’s hell on the power supply when it’s running.”

“So what, I just…lay down?” Ellie says, hopping up on the narrow bed.

“Yep. We’ll set you up there, and the tech will give you instructions. You’ll be able to hear them through a speaker inside. We’ll be keeping an eye on everything from there,” she says, pointing to the little room with the glass window. “Nothing to be afraid of.”

“Afraid? Why would I be afraid? This is so fuckin’ cool.”

Hours later–when she’s been forced to lay still on the hard bed for what seems like forever, when they have to restart the machine multiple times, when it shorts out something in the power grid and the hospital goes dark while a Firefly runs to the basement to reset the whole system–Ellie is less enamored with the spaceship machine.

They trudge back to their room, Joel’s back protesting the hours spent in the same uncomfortable chair in the observation room, Ellie fidgety and restless from her enforced confinement.

They hadn’t gotten a single usable scan.

“Still wanna save the world?” he asks, tongue in cheek.

She scowls, then shrugs. “Better than the hole.”

“‘The hole?’”

“It was a FEDRA school thing. You get in trouble, you go to the hole.”

He shoots her a look and she sighs.

“They had this room that was basically an old closet, no windows. You had to sleep sitting up. At least in the MRI thing, I can see. And there’s enough room to lie down.”

Solitary confinement for children, Joel thinks, a pit forming in his stomach.

“You get put in there often?”

She side-eyes him and smirks. “What do you think?”

He can’t find it in himself to return her smile.

“Wouldn’t have been so bad but…there was no one to talk to. The guards were like here, they’d get in trouble if they even looked at you. So it was just me and an empty room for days. Went pretty fucking crazy after a while.”

“How long?”

They’re back in their room, and Ellie hops onto her bed, feet dangling off the edge, kicking the sides with the backs of her heels.

She shrugs. “Depends on how pissed off the CO was. My longest stretch was seven days.”

Seven days. Seven days of isolation for a fucking kid. Joel thinks he’s going to be sick.

He clears his throat, tries to lighten his tone. “Well, maybe we can, uh, make it a little easier next time. We’ll bring one of those comics you like and I can read to you while you’re in there.”

She brightens. “Oh? That’d be cool.”

“Sure, kid.”

The next day, when the MRI is working again, Ellie hands him one of the books from the bin at the nurse’s station before they’re escorted upstairs.

“‘Little Women?’ Really?” Joel wrinkles his nose. “Didn’t think this’d be your kinda thing.”

“It’s not, but the comics won’t make sense unless I can see the pictures while you’re reading. And one of the girls in this is kinda cool. For, like, a kid who lived in ancient times.”

“The Civil War wasn’t ‘ancient times.’”

“I guess you’d know,” she sighs. “Having lived through it and all.”

“Jesus. I wasn’t alive durin’ the Civil War, kid.”

She grins, eyes flashing. “Second World War, then?”

He feigns a scowl. “See if I read to you, you little twerp.”

But he does, of course.

Joel reads about the adventures of the March sisters over the tinny speakers. He can see why Ellie identifies with Jo. The machine does its job and time passes. Soon Joel sees the first scans appear on the screens in his peripheral vision–outlines of her head and torso in dark blue marked with large swaths of white.

The tech remains stoic as each layer of the scan is captured. She says nothing, but he doesn’t need to be a doctor to know that what they’re looking at isn’t normal. The sight takes his breath, leaves him trailing off mid-sentence to stare.

Tendrils sprout from a large cluster at the base of Ellie’s neck, winding tangled fingers deep into her brain and down her spine. Little offshoots like the branches of a tree thread their way throughout her body in a fusion of human tissue and fungal growth, until it’s difficult to tease apart where one ends and the other begins.

Until now, he’d thought of her immunity as something intangible, an invisible formula that ran in her blood, but this is something else. He thinks of inoperable brain tumors and cancers, things equated with sickness, with death. But here she is–talking his ear off and kicking his ass at Boggle and careening down the hall in an office chair.

A walking fuckin’ miracle.

Still in the machine, Ellie blinks and fidgets, looking up toward the speakers where his voice should be.

“Hold still,” the tech snaps over the intercom, startling him from his reverie.

“Sorry, kiddo. Uh…where was I…”

Mouth suddenly dry, he clears his throat and starts reading again.

When the scans are done and they’re walking back to their room, she’s talking a mile a minute, probably something about the book, but he’s distracted, unable to get the image of those tendrils out of his mind.

“Joel?”

“Huh? Oh, yeah, uh–”

“You’re not listening.”

“Sorry…I’m, uh…just tired.”

“Did they tell you anything? When they were looking at the…y’know. The scans?”

“No.”

“Did you get to see my brain?” she asks.

He swallows hard. “Dunno what I saw, kid.”

He can’t shake the fear that’s taken root in his heart as solidly as the fungus in her brain. She’s precious to him; he knows that now, has known for much longer than he’d willingly admit. But something about seeing the visual proof of her immunity–physical evidence that her life is irreversibly entwined with the fungus that demolished his world–makes him feel like he’s that much closer to losing her.

“What, am I some kinda monster?” she jokes, arching an eyebrow.

“No, Ellie,” he says quickly, seriously, his tone taking some of the levity from her eyes. “You’re not a monster.”

You’re a miracle, he thinks. But in his experience, miracles are too easily taken away.

Ellie

“So if you’re taking my blood all the time…does that make you a vampire?”

Nurse Cooke huffs and doesn’t answer. Apparently, she’s just as enamored with her jokes as Joel was at first.

Ellie will wear her down.

“Nurse Cooke–that’s kinda like two jobs, one name, huh? Maybe you should have been a chef. Then you’d be Chef Cooke–”

The nurse withdraws the needle more roughly than she needs to and Ellie bites her lip to stop from crying out at the sting, hissing a soft fucker under her breath instead. The last thing she needs is Joel getting all pissed off in her defense. Again.

His grumbled Is this really necessary? is already a constant refrain, to the point where Ellie has to cut him off with a glare every time they come at her with another needle. Usually that’s enough to shut him up, but he’s been acting really fucking weird ever since the MRI thing. Sometimes she catches him looking at her with this sad, faraway stare, like she might disappear into thin air. And he’s always asking if she’s feeling okay, which is dumb, because he’s the one who’s still recovering from a concussion.

When the draw is done, Nurse Bitchy McBitchface leaves and Ellie goes to the window, hopping up to the window seat.

They also take biopsies now, tiny cores of her flesh to be studied under microscopes, something about examining the progression of the mycelium scarring under her skin. Her arm looks badass after, covered in black marker, like a tattoo in code.

“Hey Joel, do you think I should get a tattoo?”

She examines the latest biopsy markings. If she squints, she can almost make out a pattern in the marks, like a cool constellation of stars.

“A what?”

“Y’know, a tattoo,” she says. “Ink. Maybe like…a dragon? Ooh! No, a whole solar system all up this arm, and then maybe a–”

“Jesus, kid, you’re fifteen.”

“So?”

“So you’re way too young to be permanently colorin’ all over yourself like that.”

“They’re already sticking me with needles all the time. Can’t be any worse than that.”

His face twists into an expression she can’t place like he’s tasted something bad.

“Do you have any tattoos?” she prompts.

“No.”

“You should get one,” she tries. “I could draw you something really fucking cool, like a heart with thorns and a dagger through it, dripping blood–”

“Not gonna happen,” he says.

“Dude, c’mon! Or you could get, like, a cowboy boot with spurs and a hat and–”

“I ain’t a cowboy.”

She narrows her eyes. “But…you said you were from Texas.”

“Not everyone from Texas is a cowboy, kid. I was born in Austin. That’s a city. Or…was a city, I guess.”

“But you read those dumb westerns! You ride horses and shit.”

He sighs, but he’s smiling a little, the way he does when he’s trying not to laugh. “So do you. That make you a cowgirl?”

“What about a guitar?” she tries. “You like guitars.”

“I ain’t gettin’ a guitar tattooed on my ass.”

“Dude, gross. Why the fuck would you put it on your ass?”

“Well, the only way I’m gettin’ this theoretical tattoo of yours is if it goes where no one's gonna see it.”

“Ugh, you’re a dick, you know that?”

“Yep.”

She turns back to the window, puts her chin on her knees. From this vantage point, all she can see is concrete and overgrowth, the rooftops of the building next door, a portion of the street.

“Joel? Do you miss it?”

“Miss what?”

“Being…out there.”

He snorts. “Don’t miss the starvin’.”

“Well, duh,” she rolls her eyes. “That’s not what I mean.”

He turns, and there’s that stupid look again. Worry etched in every one of his old-man creases. His voice softens.

“What’re you askin’ me, kiddo?”

“Nevermind,” she mutters. “It’s nothing.”

She’s not sure how to say it…that everything has changed.

The outside was hard, but the rules were simple. They had routines and plans and an understanding, and even if the circumstances were unforgiving, they shared a common goal: Stay alive.

Here, Joel is different. He’s still a broody asshole but he…worries more. Not that he didn’t before, but now it’s a different kind of worry. The kind that makes him drawn, darkens his face until she has to tell a shitty pun to bring him out of it. A sad kind of worry that scares her more than she’d like to admit. 

He’s supposed to be the strong one.

But she can’t say any of that, because he’ll take it the wrong way. He’ll tell her they should go back to Jackson. He’s already mapped out their exit and keeps his bag packed. He doesn’t understand.

How can she turn away now?

She sighs and stares out the window. She misses the simplicity of long days where they’d walk until her feet felt like they’d fall off, misses the spray of rainwater on her face and the cozy heat of a campfire. She misses the stars, how every night in the wilderness was spent under a black canopy of pinpricks.

Everything in the hospital is flat, sterile, unchanging.

Safe.

Boring.

Really fucking boring.

[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

[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.

[ridiasfangirlings]

Misaki is afraid of ghost and finds out Saruhiko is being haunted by one. He thinks it's scary at first and wants nothing to do with it until he found out that the ghost is Niki and now Misaki wants to face his fears to save Saruhiko.

Imagining this as like a no-powers AU where maybe everyone’s in high school and Yata and Fushimi are the usual ‘friends who have had a falling out.’ Yata has always been able to see ghosts but he tries to pretend he can’t because he’s really afraid of them and has been ever since he was small, like when he was a child the ghosts used to try and get him lost or killed so he could be a ghost too. Fushimi is actually the only person Yata’s ever told about his power, Fushimi would tease him about it when they were kids but at the same time if Yata said there was a ghost somewhere Fushimi would just avoid that place without having to be asked. Yata always felt like Fushimi was the only one who really understood him when it comes to his powers, so after they have their falling out and Fushimi sometimes teases him about seeing ghosts Yata feels really upset. Yata hasn’t even told his friends in the Red club about his powers, because he doesn’t want upperclassman Mikoto to think that he’s like crazy or lying, Yata wants to look cool and dependable in front of Mikoto.

However as it happens Mikoto’s cousin Anna can also see ghosts, she doesn’t talk about it much and everyone just thinks she has good intuition. Sometimes when she looks at Yata he feels uncomfortable and doesn’t know why, he cares about Anna too after all and wants to be a dependable big brother type to her. One day Anna stops by the school and Yata runs into her, he’s taking her to the library (where Mikoto has detention under the watchful eye of student council president Munakata) and they pass by Fushimi. Fushimi taunts Yata and Yata gets angry but he doesn’t want to fight in front of Anna so he just storms off, dragging Anna with him. Anna tugs on his sleeve and says ‘Saruhiko…’, Yata’s like I know I know that guy’s such a jerk. Anna shakes her head and says no, there’s a ghost around Saruhiko. Yata laughs nervously all ghosts don’t exist and Anna just gives him a serious look. Yata bites his lip and says well even if ghosts were real I’m sure that jerk is fine, Anna shakes her head again and looks at Yata very seriously as she says ‘that ghost’ is going to hurt Saruhiko.

Yata tries to put that worry out of his head, telling himself there’s no way because wouldn’t he have noticed if Fushimi was being haunted. But the next day at school he starts like badly sneaking around trying to watch Fushimi, Fushimi of course spots him immediately and calls him an idiot, wondering if Yata wants a fight. Yata notices that Fushimi looks even paler than usual and he starts really looking at Fushimi, staring hard and trying to clamp down on all his old fears of ghosts, and suddenly he can see like this dark aura around Fushimi. Yata takes a step back as Fushimi mockingly asks what’s wrong and the darkness coalesces into the shape of Fushimi Niki, who’s got his arms wrapped around Fushimi’s neck in a hug and is laughing at Yata. Yata’s so surprised that he cries out and falls backwards, Niki laughs harder as Fushimi wonders why Yata is being extra stupid this morning. Yata grabs Fushimi’s wrist and is like ‘your dad…’, Fushimi gets this momentarily haunted look and then his expression just freezes over as he smacks Yata’s hand away and says not to talk to him if Yata’s only going to say stupid things. 

So now Yata’s figured out that Fushimi is being haunted and it occurs to him too that their falling out happened right after Fushimi’s dad died. He wonders if Fushimi’s been haunted all this time and say he goes to see Anna again, admitting he did see that ghost. Anna says that the ghost is stealing all Fushimi’s energy, it has a bad aura and she’s worried about Saruhiko. Yata decides to do some research and imagine he realizes that if Niki keeps haunting Fushimi then Fushimi really could die, like Niki is just slowly leeching away Fushimi’s life force and causing misfortune so that eventually Fushimi will either collapse or end up dead in some supernaturally-caused accident. Yata’s spent his whole life trying to avoid ghosts and pretending he couldn’t see them but suddenly this power doesn’t seem so bad, because Yata realizes that if it wasn’t for his power he would never have the chance to save Saruhiko. He’s afraid and doesn’t know what Niki will do but now Yata’s determined, trying to find a way to exorcise that ghost for good. (And maybe it turns out Fushimi’s known about the ghost all along and purposefully broke things off with Yata so Yata wouldn’t get destroyed by Niki’s ghost, but Yata isn’t going to let that stand in the way of saving Saruhiko).

[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.